Changing Impressions

  For this final post, I would like to share my observations about the adopted customs and holidays in Japan.  While living in Japan, I’ve had the opportunity to constantly compare my culture with the culture of Japan—although there are obvious differences there is one constant: cultural borrowing is a natural event and the adopted customs are taken and altered to fit the existing culture.  In my first post I discussed the adoption of foreign words in to the Japanese language.  The words taken from other languages are altered to fit the Japanese language, they are fully integrated and used as if they had originated from Japan; similarly, Japan has adopted Western holidays such as Halloween and Christmas in the same way. 

  The Halloween festivities at Kansai Gaidai was interesting to witness—seeing the exchange students and the Japanese students alike dressing up in costumes.  In Japan, the main aspect of Halloween that is practiced is the costumes.  This aspect is what the Japanese see as desirable and as such they use it to base their celebration of the adopted custom.  In America as well, the celebration of Halloween has largely lost its original meaning and become a large advertising campaign; the festivities are largely meant for children to have fun by dressing up in costumes and getting sweets and candy.  Culture takes the aspects of a tradition that most appeal to the populous and gives it its subsequent significance. 

  I was pleasantly surprised to see the great significance placed on the fall change of seasons here in Japan.  The leaves changing colors is a natural worldwide event, but it seems to be given an added significance here than in America.  It is Japanese culture that places added importance on the distinctions of each season (Koyo-changing of the leaves, yuki matsuri-snow festival, etc.).  This is one aspect that as an American I would like to see this significance transferred to my own culture.  This is not to say Americans do not appreciate the change in seasons, but as far as I know, there is not as much of a culturally festive atmosphere.  In years previous, I have been in the midst of such natural beauty and been preoccupied with daily life that I missed one of natures greatest visual spectacles—the changing of the leaves in autumn. 

  And finally, the last aspect of cultural borrowing I noticed is the Christmas festivities in Japan.  Christmas is an obvious Western holiday, but Japan has taken the aspects that it likes best and added its own flair.  For instance the Japanese traditional Christmas meal is the colonel’s KFC fried chicken and Christmas cake.  It seems strange when one looks from the Western view of the holiday, but throughout this semester, I have learned to regard cultural borrowing as a separate entity—though the traditions and practices do not directly transfer, do they really have to?  Christmas in Japan is its own unique practice and as such represents the aspects that its people find worthy of celebrating.

  This past weekend, I had the opportunity to go to Kobe to see the “light-up” event.  I experienced my first ever pedestrian traffic jam—in order to see the illuminated sections, we had to walk with the masses of people through the closed off roads.  The mood was very festive and for the first time this season, I was aware of the Christmas atmosphere.  In America, I have gone to see Christmas lights before, but this experience is truly different from the Japanese “light-up”.  My experience in Kobe also demonstrated to me that no matter where you are, your culture and the significance is what you the individual make of it.  Japan’s affinity for Western traditions does not by any means, mean that they celebrate them in the same way.  Instead, it is the taking of certain elements and the adaptation of those elements into the existing culture. 

Skateboarding in Japan

Prior to coming to Japan, I did not know much about the skateboarding scene, but because it is a big interest of mine, I decided to bring my board and skate whatever I could find.  After being in Hirakata for a few weeks in the beginning of the semester, I met a few skateboarders and discovered that the majority of skating in Hirakata was at the train station.  However, there was a catch—the pedestrian traffic passing through the main section of the station during the day prevents any skate activity—not to mention the “no skateboarding” signs posted on the pillars.  But at night when the station is nearly empty, the station transforms into something truly different. 

"No Skateboarding" sign at Hirakata station

   My first time going to the station, I was supposed to meet a friend; when I arrived, I was surprised to find that not only were there skateboarders, but also hip-hop dancers of all styles as well as flatland freestyle bikers.  Although the trains were still running, the transit users didn’t seem to have a problem with the dancers, bikers, and skaters.  As I cruised around the station I noticed that the dancers used the smooth, reflective cement as mirrors to practice their routines and or moves.  My eyes were constantly busy watching the entire scene—I’ve never seen such a mismatch crowd of people together in the same place before. 

  I soon became a regular at the station and got to know a few skaters—we didn’t talk much but with skateboarding, you don’t really need to talk much to have a good time with others.  During this time I also skated around Hirakata exploring back alleys and random spots—because I enjoy street skateboarding, I tend to look at objects and architecture as not merely functional facets of everyday life (stairs, curbs, walls, gaps, etc.) but as objects that could potentially be used as skate obstacles.  However, in order to skate freely, I usually skate at night when the streets are empty.  I was amazed at the difference between night and day in Hirakata—the hustle and bustle of the daytime activity and noise is a stark contrast to the almost deserted feel that night time brings.  I literally felt like a nocturnal creature as I skated down the street with only an occasional cab passing by. 

  When I skated during the day, I felt that from the stares that I received, skateboarding in the Hirakata area and that of Japan in general is not too common or popular.  I soon found from several Japanese skaters that told me that although there is a skate community, it is small.  I found it interesting that like in America, certain areas of the country were better accustomed to skateboarding than others; in America, California—specifically the Los Angeles area is known as skateboarding’s Mecca.  Likewise, Japan’s skateboard central is Tokyo.  Also because it is not a largely popular activity, skate setups and attire are in comparison to America very expensive—almost twice the price.  This affects the popularity of skating in that the cost could prevent people from trying simply because it is too pricy.

   As of right now, I have only skated in the general area close to the university and have gone to one skatepark with a friend.  With the limited time left, I would like to skate and meet more people and learn a bit more about the skateboarding culture of Japan.

Autumn Visitations

   This past Saturday I visited Kinkak-Ji—the Golden Pavilion for the first time.  I had wanted to visit Kinkaku-Ji since the beginning of the semester, but waited for this time of year so as to see the koyo—autumn leaves change colors.  The Kyoto area has numerous famous sites in which to see the koyo and because of its immense popularity, there are many resources to help visitors choose where to visit based upon the best possible time and color change of the leaves.  At the train station there were posters that indicated the sites that were almost ready, actively viewable, and no longer viewable—in terms of the autumn colors.  Luckily enough, the trees surrounding Kinkaku-Ji were at the peak of their transformation and provided a complimentary beauty to the temple.  Having never been to Kinkaku-Ji prior to Saturday’s excursion, I had only briefly studied and read a bit of literature about the temple.  Seeing it first hand was a great experience because it helped me to piece together the information I had previously learned with the visual aspect of visiting the temple.

   We arrived at the temple at what seemed to be the prime time for visitors during the day.  There was such a large number of people that there was a guard stationed at the entrance to facilitate the flow of people that were passing by for a view of the temple from across the water.  The weather was perfect and the sun was shining enough to make you squint when gazing at the Golden Temple itself.  I wanted to get a few good photos of the temple, but had to jockey my way through the masses of other people who likewise wanted to take pictures.  It was really amusing to me that nearly everyone young and old had some type of camera, whether an actual camera or mobile phone camera.  The availability of technology such as cameras is so widely spread that anyone can now use visual media as a means to catalogue their lives.  While taking photos more often then not, I found that in trying to simply take a photo of the temple or trees, I inadvertently took a photos of other people taking photos. 

   As we walked away from the lake and the area surrounding the temple, we came to a small pavilion that had coins of all sorts stuck on its thatched roof and the in the small stream that passed beneath it.  The purpose of the pavilion is to throw a coin onto the roof and if it does not fall off, it entails that you will have good luck.  Being in the spirit of the moment I threw several coins of various value onto the roof before finally succeeding in lodging one on top.  There were several of these types of things there, but the pavilion was the first and only one I tried.  As we neared the exit to return to the main entrance, I noticed the food and gift venders; one in particular caught my eye—sake with gold flakes. 

   I have had the opportunity many times to witness the leaves change color in the fall season before coming to Japan, but it was refreshing to see the degree of acknowledgement and the festive attitude that people in Japan give the koyo.  

The Art Around Us

   This past week was Kansai Gaidai University’s annual cultural festival “Gaidai-sai” in which the students participated in various fundraising campaigns for their respective clubs and had the opportunity to showcase their talents through a wide variety of activities.  While the Japanese students got the majority of the week off, the international students only got Wednesday as a holiday.  Nevertheless I was appreciative and decided to venture into Shinsaibashi with some friends on our day off.  

While there, I enjoyed simply walking around and looking at the variety of visual stimuli that can at times be overwhelming.  In such a dense area, it is easy to overlook many interesting things, but as I was walking down one of countless small side roads, I glanced across the street and saw a rather large piece of art on the wall next to a small café—it was an enlarged stylized image of a man’s face that stared back at me. 

Upon further investigation I noticed that on the left cheek was a series of sign language characters.  This greatly intrigued me and I decided to take a few photos.  I was interested to know what the characters were, but was disappointed when I could not find a sign language alphabet that had all of the present characters. 

   The image itself is in appearance simple and looks cool, but because the only description present is in a form of sign language I am not able to fully understand the reason or meaning behind the image itself.  For all I know it could be simply an advertisement for something or have a more significant meaning. This made me feel in a small way slightly illiterate; having no prior experience in sign language, I felt that in only being able view the image I was missing something.  The image itself had served its purpose in drawing my attention, but without being able to comprehend the message, it left me feeling slightly puzzled.  After seeing this image it made me realize that in this case, the description (sign language) is just as important as the image itself—in order to take any meaning from it, one must both view the image as well as the description.

   On Saturday I went to the Gaidai-sai festivities and had a fun time just wondering through eating the student-made food and watching the various performances, but the most interesting exhibition was the graffiti murals across from the shokudo. 

I enjoyed watching the student artists progressively work piece by piece to finish their murals.  While at the festival, I made it a point to periodically return to the area to check on the progress—each time I did so, the art took on a more defined shape.  It was a good idea not only to showcase the artwork, but also to have the artists actively work on their pieces for the benefit of the viewing audience.  By doing so the art becomes more tangible in that the viewer is able to witness the process and the intricate steps it takes to develop the finished product.  Because I have an interest in that particular genre of art, I really appreciated being able to watch the artist’s methods and techniques as they worked.

The Tact of Photography

   After viewing the films “Life Through a Lens” and “War Photographer”, the two distinctly different photographers discuss their takes on the tact and technique of photography.  While Annie Leibovitz focused on both real and idealized life, James Natchwey launched his career in photography with a single purpose—to effect change.  Although their subject matters are vastly different, it is a testament to the wide range of photography and the depiction of our surroundings.  Despite their differences, they share a uniquely similar perspective concerning photography: photos have a large impact upon the public and the compositional aspects give the photo a voice.

"Richard Nixon leaving the White House, Washington, D.C." 1974.
From Annie Leibovitz: At Work (Random House, 2008)

   Leibovitz grew up under the scrutiny of the lens, so her natural inclination was to gravitate towards photography.  Throughout the film, she explains her habit of constantly taking photos and how in doing so, it has helped her to develop her individual sense of photo composition.  In order to find the right shot or the desired effect in one’s photography, he or she should be willing to explore both with the equipment and the subject matter.  Leibovitz achieved much of her fame by not only constantly exploring the elements of photography, but also by displaying a sense of daring when depicting the subject matter.  Photos are fragments of life and therefore as the photographer, one has the opportunity to both voice an opinion as well as provoke a response from the viewers.

Lance Armstrong, photo by Annie Leibovitz Dec. 1999 issue Vanity Fair

   Natchwey was strongly influenced by the images of the Vietnam War and became inspired to become a war photographer.  It was the war photos that had effected his perception and in an effort to make a statement, he launched into his career.  His career choice is proof in itself that images do have an effect on those who view them—this points towards the importance of depicting events accurately.  The gruesome and disturbing images that Natchwey produces, embody the awfulness of human conflict.

   In the film, there were many instances in which Natchwey seem to overstep his bounds as an observer to the grieving victims of war, but he states that in those situations the normal etiquette is temporarily ignored.  He explains that his desire to show the world the wrongs being committed against humans coincides with their desire to in turn gain a voice through their suffering.  Similar to Leibovitz, Natchwey also uses tact when dealing with the subjects of photos—one must approach slowly and show interest in the victims so as to gain their trust and in turn convey the mutual desire of the tragedies of war.  From these two photographers, it is clear that they do not simply shoot photos, instead both as humans behind the camera lens regard their human subjects with mutual care and understanding.  

Photo References:

1. http://www.jewishpress.com/printArticle.cfm?contentid=38054 

2. http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/features/2008/09/armstrong200809 

3. http://dmz2008.wordpress.com/page/2/ 

4. http://woodenkimonos.com/therealmurphy/2009/12/friday-inspiration-james-nachtwey/

Japanese People (portrait)

For this blog post I chose to write about my Japanese language speaking partner Rie Sakai.  Having signed up for the speaking partner program prior to coming to Japan, I was curious to see how this relationship with a Japanese student would be.  In the month and a half’s time spent at Kansai Gaidai, I have met with Rie several times and have gotten to know her little by little.  It was surprising to discover that she and I shared similar interests—oddly enough, she is interested in board sports (surfing, snowboarding, skateboarding, etc.).  So when I told her that I also enjoyed those activities, particularly skateboarding, she asked if I could teach her.  So this past Sunday, I went with Rie to buy a skateboard at a sports store in Shinsaibashi.  In Japan, because skateboarding is far more expensive than in America, by purchasing one, it is a testament to her actual interest in pursuing skateboarding as a hobby.  When I met with Rie today, I told her about the blog assignment and she agreed cordially and I took a photo few photos.  (I thought it was funny when I asked to take her picture she put the peace signs up.)  I described briefly to her the assignment and then I showed her my techdeck (mini fingerboard) and we started talking about skateboarding.  I usually go to Hirakatashi train station on the weekends and asked if she would want to go and she said she would.  Now I have the opportunity to not only practice my Japanese speaking with Rie, but also am able to share my hobby as well.

When speaking with Rie, our conversations are sometimes limited by the language barrier; however, to compensate we use various means of communication to help each other understand.  It has been a learning process, but when speaking with her, I am inspired to study hard and practice speaking Japanese.  Like most Kansai Gaidai students I have met, Rie studies English very studiously not only to become proficient, but also in preparation for future study abroad opportunities.  During one of our meetings, I noticed that she had a textbook that had the acronym TOEFLE on the cover, but when I asked what the initials stood for, Rie did not know.  Upon further research involving asking many students what the initials meant, I finally found that it stands for “Test of English as a Foreign Language”.  

Rie's very busy school schedule

I was interested to find when chatting with her that in the future, she wants to teach Japanese in America.  Because I also share a similar desire to teach English in Japan after graduation, her dedication to studies and ambition also inspire me to make the most of my time in Japan and make each moment a learning experience.

Neighborhood Hirakata

In my brief time as a resident of the city of Hirakata, I have observed people from all walks of life participating in various activities in and around the community that surrounds my current residence--Seminar house 4.  In particular, the park located across the street is heavily used by the community as a gathering place for families and also serves many other functions.  the park consists of much wide open grassy areas, some playground equipment, a series of water fountains in which kids play on the particularly hot days, physical exercise equipment, and a walking path.

Prior to arriving for the fall semester, Kansai Gaidai University sent an email to exchange students concerning the use of this park and the reputation that previous exchange students have made as a result. the notice indicated that students typically gathered at the park to drink beer and often became rather loud and disruptive in the process.  Upon arriving I soon understood why the park appropriately referred to as "beer park" attracted students--located across the street from the park is a liquor store with a beer machine standing at the corner.  The seminar houses are also in the direct vicinity, which makes it a convenient spot to meet with friends and maybe have a cold one.

This year is no exception to the trend in popularity--having visited the park on several occasions, there are frequently various groups of students that gather on the benches near the beer machine to socialize.  Each time I have gone, I try to observe the general reactions of the local residents but have found that they largely ignore these "gaijin" gatherings.

On a daily basis, I have noticed a large number of residents walking their dogs in and around the neighborhoods.  Being a dog owner myself, I have had short interactions with residents as a result of their dogs.  In my neighborhood in Hawaii, a good way to meet or start a friendly conversation with neighbors is through their dogs--a common point of interest.  Similarly, I have had the opportunity to speak briefly with local residents who, if it were not for their dogs, we would most likely not have even made eye contact.

On route to school everyday, I pass by many local businesses and shops.  There are a few places that have security guards stationed at the entrances to the parking lots and or the company facilities.  These guards stand at the entrances and offer assistance to any vehicle entering or departing from the facility while also ensuring pedestrian safety.  In my short time in Hirakata, I have come to recognize the guards simply from passing who, if you catch their attention, will always give a polite nod and say "ohayou gozaimasu" or "konnichiwa".  These pleasantries may be minute and insignificant, however it has shown me that even with strangers, it does not hurt to be courteous and or friendly.  It may lead to future interactions.