July 2016

Greetings, 

David and I just returned from Japan, and as is traditional, I've served up some travelogue for you. Since David does not fear and despise cameras, he has also provided some delightful pictures to accompany my over-baked prose. Oh, and before you hit that delete button, know this: unless you at least skim the follow-ing, don't dare to ask me how the trip went. 

Let's begin with some general observations (after having spent approximately ten days in Japan, I can assure you that these are absolutely authoritative pro-nouncements on Japanese culture): 

1) The famed Japanese efficiency is very much for real. Indeed, of the places I've visited, only Sweden and Switzerland come close to matching this, and they still lag somewhat behind. Trains arrive and depart exactly on schedule, and if your tour departs at 10am, you best be there at 10am. 

2) Speaking of dinner, Japanese cuisine met our expectations, and then some. Like France (and very unlike New York), you can stop into nearly any restaurant or cafe and things will generally be delicious. The sheer variety of Japanese cui-sine is also staggering. We had sushi only twice, and even that was probably overkill. Particularly delightful is kushiage (a lighter version of tempura) and the grand dame of Japanese cuisine, kaiseiki.

Let's not forget chicken sashimi either; raw chicken casts fear into the hearts and minds of Westerners, but it's pretty darn tasty. 

That said, Japan needs to seriously up its game when it comes to bread, dairy, and desserts. In particular, Japan's many sweets might be aesthetically stunning but taste pretty meh.

3) Generally, I find traveling to be an exercise in vulnerability. You have to rely on the kindness of strangers, which means navigating how to get ripped off as little as possible. Japan is a rare place where you can actually let your guard down (assuming you are so capable). 

Indeed, this degree of collective courtesy would be comical if it wasn't so endear-ing. This begins with the bowing (done by everyone from train conductors to shopkeepers) and culminates in peoples' dogmatic politeness when conducting their professional duties. (Apparently this also includes Yakuza foot soldiers, who, as described in one article I read, intimidated lay judges (jurors) by "thank-ing them in advance" for making the "right" decision in voting to acquit their bosses.) No doubt this very solidarity hampers individual innovation; as a dumb tourist, however, it was a real pleasure to behold. 

4) Things ain't cheap, and stupid Brexit (by making folks panic and buy yen) cer-tainly didn't help. Never needing to tip is a plus, though, and if you do try and leave a little something behind, folks will literally chase you down and demand you take it back. (David once left fifty cents on the counter, and the hostess had a near meltdown when she realized there was loose change left over.) 

5) It was so, so humid, and Japanese air-conditioning is -- for the most part -- so, so weak. If your schedule allows it, I hear visiting in October is the way to go. 

Now, on to the sights: 

David and I began our trip in Tokyo, the latest capital of Japan (as of 1868) and by far its largest city (by a solid 10 million citizens, give or take a few). Our first destination was Ueno Park, described to us as Tokyo's Central Park, and that is, in fact, a third larger.  Within the park is the Tokyo National Museum, which gives a good overview of Japan's past and present. One of the more fascinating facts about Japan, and which the Museum drove home, is that the Emperor -- except for a brief period of 150 years or so -- has never really had much power over the country. Rather, Japan was long run by a military elite (first by the shoguns and then by generals), and many historians attribute the country's hierarchical, rigid social structure to this reality. 

Speaking of his royal highness, David and I next visited the gardens of the Impe-rial Palace. Although its surrounding grounds are beautiful and have a lovely moat, the palace itself is hidden from sight and apparently heavily guarded. This

is interesting, since literally no one in the entire universe cares about--never mind would wish to do ill to--the Emperor of Japan. 

The next day David and I headed to the famed Tsukiji Fish Market. The fish mar-ket opens at 5 a.m. sharp, and tourists line up well before then to potentially see the live tuna auctions. Given this, David and I got up bright and early, and arrived at 11 a.m. Unfortunately, the fish market begins closing at 9 a.m., and we thus may not have received the full experience. That said, we did witness a few of the day's spoils (like giant fish heads), insane amounts of water used to clean things up, and vendors packing up for the day so they could get home, go to bed by 6 p.m., and prepare for the next day's auction. 

Content with our fish-mongering, we journeyed to the Mori Museum of contempo-rary art, which -- much to our shock and delight -- featured a rather random ex-hibit on gay designer parenting, or, more specifically, what will happen when two same-sex parents can contribute both genes to their children. (In other words, this: http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2015/02/25/biological-same-sex-par-ent-babies-could-be-a-reality-by-2017.html.) To illustrate the point, the artist had chosen a lesbian couple and created conceptual designs of what their composite

child would look like. I'm not sure how this qualifies as art. Regardless, it seemed a good metaphor for the Japan's general view on gay families: fascinated but baf-fled. But let's move on. 

For our final full day in Tokyo, David and I walked through some of the city's ma-jor districts. We began on Takeshita Street, a combination of children's toys stores (which made me feel quite creepy) and designer clothing shops (which made me feel quite poor). We then journeyed into the heart of Harajuku, which is colloquially known as Tokyo's "dork district." This is for good reason: Every store sells either manga or some bizarre form of anime, and the streets are riddled with women dressed as so-called "Lolita" girls (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lolita_fashion). If that wasn't terrible enough, we soon wandered into Shibuya Square and its (in)famous scramble crossing, which makes Times Square look positively tame. Surrounded by giant screens blasting all sorts of hallucinogenic advertisements, people converge from various directions into a giant mass of tangled limbs and then separate as quickly as they congealed. 

Fortunately, we were able to "escape" into a nearby Uniqlo before wrapping things up in Roppongi, which contains a replica of the Eiffel Tower (the Tokyo Tower) that feels more like the famed Paris icon's gaudier and profoundly lost younger brother.   

The next day we took the bullet train to Kyoto, Japan's historical capital and its cultural pride and joy. And justifiably so: Kyoto is a wonderful mix of cool new ar-chitecture atop centuries-old Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples, surrounded by beautiful gardens and babbling brooks. (Oh, how they babble.)  

One of the first things we did in Kyoto was commandeer a cab driver and ask him to take us to Ginkaku-ji, the city's famed Silver Temple. Unfortunately, the driver took us to Kinkaku-ji, Kyoto's famed Golden Temple, instead. We didn't realize his (and our) error until after we left the temple grounds, despite the temple be-ing, well, golden: 

Two important lessons (besides looking at temple pictures in advance): First, there is a limit to the amount of shrines and temples one can see, and that limit is three temples and three shrines. (We did eventually see the Silver Temple as well, which was equally impressive.) Second, I am pleased to officially report that, after talking to two sources (our temple tour guide and an expat living in Japan for fifteen years), the Japanese do not literally believe in their many Shinto gods, but treat these much like my OCD compulsions: Rituals to invoke in times of anxiety, which one rationally knows have no effect on the material universe but make one feel more secure "just in case."   

Templed-out, David and I concluded our sight-seeing in Kyoto with visits to Arashiyama Monkey Park and the Bamboo Grove. Although I can't say David and I fell for the monkeys--dirty, dirty creatures--the Bamboo Grove was nothing short of spectacular. (Pictures don't do it justice, but here's one anyway.)

To lighten things up, David and I also took a day trip to Hiroshima, which (suffice it to say) did not actually lighten things up. The city of Hiroshima itself is fairly nondescript, until one comes upon Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park and the A-Bomb Dome, the remnants of a former exhibition hall reflecting that terrible day. 

At one end of the Park is the Memorial Museum, in which David and I found the videos of survivor testimonies especially powerful. One testimony struck me in particular, that of a Korean man forced into labor by the Japanese during World War II, who then had the double misfortune--to put it lightly--of being near the center of the atomic bombing.   

David and I concluded our trip in the scenic mountain town of Takayama, where we stayed at a ryokan and did some bathing in an onsen. (And, no, I will not Wikipedia those words for you.) Simple cynics might argue against paying good money to sleep on the ground in a very small room with a stray cat (or in the words of our hostess, "homeless cat") constantly scratching at one's door. Given the quality of the food and sheer loveliness of the inn's husband-and-wife propri-etors, however, I should not be counted among them. From there we headed back to Tokyo and yesterday left Japan behind -- very satisfied, soaked in sweat,

and ready to return to a country where courtesy and decent infrastructure are in much shorter supply. 

--  

I hope that wasn't too painful. If you're in NYC, I'd love to get together. If you're not in NYC, drop me a line and let's catch up.   

Cheers,Zach