Valentine’s Day is a big deal here. About a week ago stands selling chocolate popped up in front of all the grocery stores. I took this picture yesterday, but I should have taken it today, as it was mobbed. I’m not sure why, but all the signs I’ve seen for Valentine’s Day are exclusively in English (usually English words are transcribed into Katakana).
The Japanese celebrate St. Valentine’s day in a rather unique fashion. Women give the men gifts of chocolate as well as other gifts.
These gifts of chocolate are divided into two types: giri choco (obligatory chocolate) and honmei choco (chocolate for the man the woman is serious about). Giri choco is given by women to their superiors at work as well as to other male co-workers. It is not unusual for a woman to buy 20 to 30 boxes of this type of chocolate for distribution around the office as well as to men that she has regular contact with.
Needless to say, the approach of Valentine’s Day is something that department stores and shops look forward to and promote with zeal because of its potential for increased sales. Large displays featuring chocolate usually with heart-shaped displays start to grace the floors of department stores from mid-January or so.
The payback comes, with interest, on White Day:
While all of this may seem quite one-sided, confectioners in Japan - never ones to miss an opportunity to sell more - took advantage of the Japanese feelings of obligation and created “White Day” in 1980 to help assuage the guilt feelings of those poor obligated males who received chocolate on Valentine’s Day. On March 14th, exactly one month after Valentine’s Day, men who were lucky enough to receive gifts of chocolate have the chance to return the favor by giving the women who gave them gifts of chocolate a more expensive box of chocolate or sweets (for some reason or other, these return gifts seem to be priced slightly higher than those the women purchase).
According to Wikipedia, “There are many theories about the origins of White Day, but according to one, the holiday began in 1965, when a marshmallow maker started marketing to men that they should pay back the women who gave them chocolate and other gifts with marshmallows. Originally it was called Marshmallow Day, and later it was changed to White Day.”
White Day is catching on in other parts of Asia, and the South Koreans have added their own, darker sensibility to the sequence of holidays by creating Black Day, on April 14: “The idea is that those who didn’t give or receive gifts on Valentine’s Day or White Day, can get together and eat Jjajangmyeon (짜장면); Korean noodles with black bean sauce (hence the name) to commiserate their singledom.”
The Antarctic - I thought this was the best snow sculpture. It features "…the Japanese Antarctic expedition ship Soya on the left and the Sakhalin Huskies Taro and Jiro in the center along with a whale, penguins and seals." http://www.snowfes.com/engli
The Antarctic - I thought this was the best snow sculpture. It features "…the Japanese Antarctic expedition ship Soya on the left and the Sakhalin Huskies Taro and Jiro in the center along with a whale, penguins and seals." http://www.snowfes.com/engli
Our trip to the Snow Festival is one of three major ventures we planned for outside of Tokyo while we’re here (the other two are Kyoto and Okinawa, in the spring). Overall it was a great trip, and as you can see from the photos, the snow sculptures were amazing. I don’t think Kai has ever had so much fun, and, unfortunately, I don’t think Eidan’s ever been so miserable. He had a good 24 hours before we left, having just recovered from the stomach flu. But, as we discovered in our first night in the ryokan, the disruptiveness of the travel triggered a relapse (let’s just say this “discovery” entailed an extra cleaning charge for our room).
But first let me tell you about the 90 minute flight from Tokyo to Hokkaido. This was the second time I’ve flown on ANA airlines, and both times have been a real pleasure. The discomfort and general unpleasantness of flying on US-based airlines is not something you’ll experience on ANA. They retain an emphasis on service that doesn’t make you feel like cattle when flying coach. I should point out that my evaluation of the experience may be biased by the fact that the all female flight crew looked like models. I imagine they are all “promoted” in some way or other before they hit 35 (see this “Ask the Pilot” column for more on how many Asian airlines still have attractive-women-only policies for flight attendants).
A few other differences I noticed: At Tokyo’s Haneda airport, for carry-on liquids, they have scanners that somehow detect whether they’re dangerous or not. I haven’t seen these in the US yet. There’s security at the baggage claim - you have to show your claim ticket before you can leave with your bags (I’ve always been amazed that the baggage claim areas in the US are completely open to the public). The only negative is that you can’t claim a stroller at the gate - you have to carry your kid to the baggage claim area.
Sapporo is Japan’s 5th largest city. I’d say that I really liked it, if it wasn’t so mind-numbingly cold (it’s on just about the same parallel as Russia’s Vladivostok, if that helps you place it). It’s not nearly as overwhelming as Tokyo, but has enough “big city” attractions to still have some dazzle. We were there for three days, and taking in the Snow Festival dominated our time.
The first nine pictures are from Odori Park, which was where all the large snow sculptures were on display. I’d never seen anything like these before. The Japanese Army is a big player in the festival, as they built several of the largest sculptures. The Park is a long, narrow strip that divides the north and south sections of the city. There were some ice sculptures there as well, but they weren’t in very good shape, as it had been a bit too warm in the days before we got there, and their details had melted away (but it was plenty cold on the days we were there!). From what I read, they were able to fix up the snow sculptures after the warm weather passed by packing new snow on them and re-making the finer details, but that’s not possible with ice.
Kai was thrilled just to be in the snow. Everywhere we walked, he and I were having a running snowball fight, or - when there were too many innocent bystanders around - he was building little spaceships out of snow and then crashing them into the ground.
We stayed in the Nakamuraya Ryokan, which I highly recommend if you ever find yourself in Sapporo. It’s not too expensive, and not too fancy, but the rooms are comfortable and the food was very tasty. Maria was smart and booked the room back in November, as the Festival attracts about two million visitors that overwhelm the local hotels.
The next sequence of pictures is from Satoland, which was on a field in the outskirts of town. This was the snow playground area for the kids, with ice slides, a snow maze, and lots more. It ended up not working out too well, as there were waits of up to an hour for just about everything - lines that were too long for two little boys to stand in the cold. We probably should have gone on a weekday instead of the weekend, to avoid some of the crowds. Nonetheless, it was cool to see it, and Kai enjoyed chiseling his own cup out of a block of ice, and taking it to an ice bar for a kiddie drink (this was one of the few activities where there wasn’t a long wait).
We visited Susikino, which was the part of Sapporo where they had a 5 block long display of ice sculptures. Like the ones in Odori Park, the warm weather in the days before we arrived was not good for them, and sadly, they were no longer much to look at. But this put us near ramen alley, where we had an excellent ramen lunch in a shop that had a dining area about as big as a large bathroom (it had just enough room for two small tables). The staff consisted of a middle-aged couple - a true mom and pop shop.
We also spent some time in Sopporo’s two enormous underground shopping malls. It makes sense in a place this cold to put the malls underground. The two malls are laid out in long, narrow strips perpendicular to each other, which makes them a nice way to get across town without having to walk in the cold outside (a big plus with kids). While walking through, I had the surreal experience of hearing a Japanese cover version of the Skids’ 1978 song “The Saints are Coming” being piped in (but I imagine it was probably inspired more by the 2006 U2/Green Day cover than by the original).
Thankfully, Eidan was feeling better by the time we returned to Haneda airport last night, and he’s eating well again now for the first time in about a week.
I’ve included a lot of commentary in the photo captions, so you’ll find details on the sights there.
I told Maria that if we ever come see the Snow Festival again, we should stay for the day after it as well - it’d be fun to watch these things get bulldozed.
For the past few days we’ve been watching Japanese children’s television - a lot of Japanese children’s television. Kai and Eidan were very sick with the stomach flu, and just as they were getting better, Maria and I came down with it yesterday. To keep the boys happy while they were sick, and to ease their parenting needs while Maria and I are sick, we’ve kept the TV on.
We all agree that, without a doubt, the best show is ピタゴラ スイッチ (Pitagora Suitchi - in English, Pythagora Switch). The closest parallel on American TV would be Sesame Street, in that there are recurring segments and characters. What makes Pythagora Switch fun to watch is the simplicity and humor of it - it has an innocent charm to it. Our favorite segments are the two that they close the show with: the elaborate marble mazes they build from household items (this segment is usually about 30 seconds, and someone put together an amazing 9 minute compilation of them on YouTube) and the Algorithm March. Eidan in particular goes crazy for this. A really entertaining example is on YouTube - the Algorithm March with Ninjas (the ninjas show up halfway through):
The steps and song in the Marches we’ve seen on TV are completely different from this one (with 4 guys from the Yomiuri Giants yesterday), so it’s not the same thing every time.
We were surprised to see Dora the Explorer on TV here. Instead of English and Spanish, it’s Japanese and English. It turns out that Dora’s vaguely Hispanic look passes for vaguely Asian as well. Dora’s actually been improving my Japanese vocabulary, as they always show pictures when introducing new words, and then they say them over and over (and over) again.
Tomorrow in Tokyo it will be sunny and a pleasant 55 F degrees, but with a 30% chance of Mothra.
I’ve been asked a lot about the weather here by folks at home. The winters in Tokyo are dry and relatively mild - with daytime temperatures between the low 40s and low 50s. I’m told Tokyo never gets more than a light dusting of snow. We’re on a small island though, and it has quite a cold breeze, particularly in the mornings. Fortunately, we are upwind of the sewage treatment plant that’s less than a half mile away. I’ve walked through the neighborhood that’s downwind. It’s just as packed with shiny new apartment and office buildings, like the rest of Shinagawa, and most of the time you don’t smell anything, but at random intervals you’ll hit an air pocket with an incredibly foul stench. Interestingly, there are still some dilapidated shacks along the waterfront, which may be indicative of what the whole area may have been like in the past. Maria thinks it may once have been a burakumin (Japanese underclass) town.
We’ve felt two mild earthquakes in the month we’ve been here. Maria tells me that’s the typical frequency. The island we’re on is entirely man-made, which means it won’t fare too well if there’s a really strong earthquake - hopefully my Japan experience won’t include one of those!
Next weekend we’re headed to Sapporo for the annual Snow Festival. They usually get around 15 feet of snow in the winter, but they have hardly any this year. On the news they’ve been showing the Japanese army being put to work trucking in snow so the festival can go on as scheduled.
Maria told me she saw a public service ad on TV the other day that really highlights one of the major cultural differences between Japan and just about anywhere else in the world. It featured two parents and their daughter having dinner - she looked to be in her early teens. The daughter was telling them how mortified she was that a total stranger said a friendly “good morning” to her earlier that day. The parents then did the opposite of what American parents would do - instead of advising her to keep away from strangers who seem a little too friendly, they admonished her for not cheerfully saying “good morning” in return.
A big part of what makes Japan tick culturally is its very broad sense of community. The older generation is worried that the younger generation is becoming more individualistic and self-absorbed, and ads like this are efforts to counter that trend.
My experience so far is that kids feel safe here and aren’t shy around strangers. I know this because some of the kids at Kai’s school don’t hesitate to climb all over me. Also, adults are not shy about playing with kids they don’t know. Several times now random people on the street or on the train have come right up to Eidan in his stroller and started talking to him and playing with his hands and feet. Kai had a little bag of snacks tossed to him on the train by an old man. It’s the kind of thing that would make you want to call the cops in the US, but here it’s completely ordinary. Probably the main reason why it’s so ordinary is that crime rates are much lower in Japan than in the US:
This is all extremely significant considering just how tightly packed the Japanese population is. It would seem that the population density would lead to a very high crime rate, but that is not what happens in Japan. This helps to show that crime, especially violent crime, is dependent on external factors (the lack of availability of guns) and cultural factors (emphasis on honor and group harmony.) In the U.S., with the incredible ease of obtaining weapons and the emphasis on people “doing their own thing,” a much higher level of violent crime should not be a surprise…
Another factor that may play a large part in the lower crime level in Japan is the use of their police forces. There are kobans, (fairly small police stations) in profusion in Japanese cities. The police there seem to work much more closely with the community than in the U.S. where there is a “us vs. them” mentality on the part of many communities and even some police forces…
There are a couple other factors I would add. One is that Japan has a 99% conviction rate for those charged with crimes (as people here do not have the same rights they have in the US), which likely serves as a strong deterrent. The other, which is more to do with perceptions of crime, is that local news here is quite different - it does not suffer from the “if it bleeds it leads” mentality that pervades US newsrooms. I believe this is related to many Americans thinking crime rates were going up when they were actually going quite significantly down. When the news you see on TV every night is about murder and mayhem, it’s likely to add to your fear about strangers who approach you, and make you less likely to approach anyone you don’t already know. There is a certain degree of anxiety about crime that’s definitely warranted in the US (especially in certain areas), but - IMHO - local news coverage distorts it out of all proportion. If all you knew about your community was what you saw on US local news, you’d probably be afraid to leave your house, no matter where you lived.
Indicators of the infrequency of crime are visible just about everywhere here. I provided some pictures about this in my 2004 post Things You Don’t See in the US during our last trip here. There’s the unlocked bicycles everywhere, the pay phones that get electricity from regular wall outlets (suggesting no worries about vandalism), the availability of completely realistic toy guns, etc.
Update: After reading John’s comment I learned a little more about the milk here in Japan, and I decided to re-write the last couple paragraphs of this post.
I’ve found that the Japanese and the denizens of my home state, Rhode Island, share at least two things in common.
One is the tendency to drop the letter R from English words. Rhode Islanders aren’t quite as bad as Bostonians with their “pahk the cah in the yahd” style of speech, but they’re close. In Japan, when you see or hear English words that have been adopted into Japanese, the Rs are dropped whenever possible. For example, a Japanese sign for a “Visitors Center” will be transliterated into Katakana as ビジター センター “bi-ji-taa se-n-taa.” In some ways the Japanese accent is eerily familiar to me.
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The other commonality is a passion for coffee milk - something I always thought was a peculiarity unique to Rhode Island (it’s the official state drink - see this article for more on this and other Rhode Island culinary oddities). I discovered tonight you can get coffee milk here in Tokyo too. We had dinner at the home of some new friends we made - Fred, who is from the US, his wife Hitomi, and their two kids. Hitomi made tacos for us, an exotic delicacy here in Tokyo (they get the ingredients from the Foreign Buyers Club). Their son Kaito goes to school with Kai (Kaito and his sister call our Kai “Toppa Kai” to avoid confusion over the similar first names). They had coffee milk with dinner, and I learned it’s a popular drink with kids here. Perhaps even more popular than in Rhode Island, given that you can get it here ready-made - in Rhode Island there’s just the Autocrat brand syrup (or maybe Eclipse too, but I haven’t seen that brand in years).
I haven’t had Rhode Island coffee milk since I was a kid, and I don’t remember the taste well enough to offer an opinion on which tastes better. Next time I’m in my home state, I’ll try some again, and let you know.
The milk here is not very good, which might have something to do with the coffee (and plenty of sugar) flavoring being popular. The low-fat is OK, but the higher fat milk that Eidan drinks smells bad even when it’s brand new. The milk industry is not regulated here to the extent it is in the US, and the results are not good. I found this rant written by an American teacher working in Japan that pretty much sums up the awfulness of Japanese milk. I’m not a milk drinker, but Fred is - he says he had to give up on the higher fat milk because he thought it smelled like chicken gone bad. To me, it smells bad but tastes ok, and - fortunately - Eidan doesn’t seem to mind it.
From what Maria can tell trying to decipher the Kanji on the cartons, the milk here is not homogenized. It seems to be pasteurized in some fashion, but I think not as well as in the US. You’ll come across cartons with all different kinds of fat percentages - they’re not standardized into just a few categories like the US.
I kept the tone positive in my Big City, Small World post, but I have to admit my weekday routine has been much more claustrophobic than I ever expected. I was prepared for being a full-time dad, but I wasn’t ready for the the long hike to Kai’s school, the difficulty of getting around on buses and trains with a stroller in the winter weather, Eidan’s ever-increasing rambunctiousness, and his daily nap all coming together in a conspiracy that confines me to our small apartment, the playground at Kai’s school, and the journey in between. Like I said before, I’m looking forward to Kai’s switch to 1st grade in April, as that will allow some more flexibility in my daily schedule, but April is a ways off. So today Maria was kind enough to take the day off work to take care of the boys, and I got to run around on my own for the day. The first in an occasional series of Dad’s Days Off.
I decided to visit 5 destinations in Shinjuku, and then 3 in the Ginza, for a total of 8. I’m pointing out my planned numbers, as some misadventures along the way led to a rather different actual number…
First stop, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Offices, for a free elevator ride to the 45th floor and a spectacular, 360 degree view of Tokyo. Given its size and proximity to the JR station, I found the building easily enough, and then found the right entrance by following a gaggle of school kids, as I figured their destination was the same as mine. I was able to catch my first glimpse ever of Mt. Fuji, through the haze that was lingering in the air past the edge of the city. It was awe inspiring to see just how gargantuan Tokyo is - the buildings extend to the horizon is every direction.
Second planned stop, the Tokyo Opera City Art Gallery (a modern art gallery that has nothing to do with opera). Normally I wouldn’t put an art gallery on my short list of things to do, but I can just picture Eidan tearing priceless canvasses apart with his bare hands, so a day without him struck me as the right time to go. But it didn’t open until 11 and I was half an hour early. So I decided to switch the order with my next destination, and skip ahead to…
My third planned stop, the Japanese Sword Museum - I was really looking forward to this one, as my Lonely Planet guide said it had more than 6000 swords on display. I got lost trying to find it. I went down a street, looking to take a left, but there were no lefts to be taken, aside from little alleys going into dense residential neighborhoods. I finally realized I was off by a block from the street I should have been on, so I figured I’d cut through one of the neighborhoods (a challenge with navigating in Tokyo is that most of the streets don’t have names - addresses are instead determined by lot numbers). Just when I thought I had gone too far, I saw a McDonald’s that looked familiar. Then I realized where I was - in the same spot we all got lost 3 weeks ago, looking for something totally different. So in the massive expanse that is Tokyo I’ve been lost only twice so far, and both times in the same exact place. It’s Tokyo’s Bermuda Triangle. I eventually found the museum - it turns out it’s in a small building down an alley, nestled right inside this residential neighborhood. I have to say it was a big disappointment - I don’t think the Lonely Planet author actually saw it, as they do not have 6000 swords on display. They may own that many swords, but after paying the admission fee, you are given access to a singular, modest size room displaying about 30 swords. They are all quite old and their handles are gone, so what you’re looking at is a series of unadorned, curved pieces of metal. There are extensive notes with each, but only in Kanji. Each sword had one of two terse English notes that said only - I’m not kidding - “Important Sword” or “Special Important Sword.” So I made it through the room in about 10 minutes. So when you come to Tokyo, skip the Sword Museum.
On my way back to the Opera City Art Gallery, I realized my cell phone was off, so I turned it on and gave Maria a call. She had been trying to call me, as she forgot her key when she left in the morning, and she and Eidan were locked out of the apartment. Fortunately there’s a modest, publicly accessible kids playroom near our apartment, so they hung out there. We agreed to meet at Shinjuku station so I could give her my key and we could have lunch. But she had to make it back in time to pick up Kai, so I set off for the station and skipped the Art Gallery.
After lunch, it was too far to head back west to the Gallery, so I headed to the east side of the station for my fourth destination, the Shinjuku nightlife. It was daytime, so there was no nightlife to experience, but I wanted to see the Golden Gai, which consists of a bunch of narrow alleys and very rickety looking buildings, all filled with very small bars. It looked like a sort of 1950s era shanty town, which Maria tells me is something that holds a certain charm for the Japanese. I passed through Kabukicho, which is the red-light district (another place I can’t take the kids!), and one of the inspirations for the look of the movie Blade Runner. Whatever glitz it may have in the dim shadows and flashing lights of the night is sorely lacking in the unforgiving glare of the midday sun, where the seediness seems more sad than anything else.
I skipped my fifth planned stop, the Shinjuku-Gyoen. It’s supposed to be a spectacular garden park, but my legs needed a break from strolling at this point, and I figured it’d be a better destination in the spring than the dead of winter anyway. So I hopped back on the JR to the Yurakucho Station, and the Ginza district (it’s a big, high end shopping district with a fair number of small museums sprinkled in).
I headed straight for Muji after taking a 10 minute nap on the train (like a good salaryman, I’m mastering the art of train-napping). You can think of Muji as a store that has the very best of the kind of furniture you see in Ikea, plus clothes and stationary. I’ve been switching between the same 3 shirts for the past month (we traveled light), so I needed some new ones, and Muji is the place to go for cheap but decent looking clothes. You can also buy a very cool, small but livable Muji house - they will actually build and furnish a house for you - more on that in a later post.
Next on my list was the World Magazine Gallery, described by Lonely Planet as a no-loan library of thousands of magazines from around the world, where you can hang out, browse, and visit their coffee shop. Unfortunately my Lonely Planet guide was out of date - after I found the place, I was unsuccessful understanding what the security guard was telling me in Japanese, so he dug up a note in English that said the the public part of the building closed in 2003
On my way to my last stop, I passed the Kabuki-za theater. I didn’t have time to take in a Kabuki show, but I thought the building was an interesting blend of western and eastern
architectural styles. My last planned stop was the Tokyo Gallery which Lonely Planet says specializes in political art - something I’d find interesting. But it wasn’t where the book said it was. I looked it up on the web after I gave up and came home, and it’s the Ginza, but at a different address. So the book is just wrong, or the gallery has moved recently.
In the end I made it to 3 of my planned destinations (or 2 depending on how you want to count the Sword Museum…). Lesson learned: check websites or call before going anywhere in Tokyo - guidebooks can be wrong or fall out of date quickly.
Despite the setbacks, it was still a great day - it’s always fun to just walk around in Tokyo. I got to see parts of town I’ve never been in before, and it was a nice change of pace to be on my own for a while. What struck me the most is how endless each district is when you take the time to just wend your way up and down the streets. It’s an endless sea of shops and restaurants. And they’re all busy.
![Old Hokkaido Government Building - "When completed [in 1888], it was one of the largest and tallest buildings in Japan and symbolized the prestige and importance the Meiji Government placed on the development of Hokkaido...Why the popular name akarenga? [](http://lh5.google.com/michaeltoppa/R5nz9rtpomI/AAAAAAAABzI/1SDL2qhWqNM/200702b%20040.jpg?imgmax=800 "Old Hokkaido Government Building - \"When completed [in 1888], it was one of the largest and tallest buildings in Japan and symbolized the prestige and importance the Meiji Government placed on the development of Hokkaido...Why the popular name akarenga? [")
