As of last weekend, I’m officially in the middle of my late 30s. And where better to spend a birthday that in one of the greatest cities on the planet. We spent the entire weekend in Tokyo with no real agenda, which ended up being an action-packed three days.
Instead of a long rundown of events, please enjoy some photos from the weekend.
This playground near Tokyo Skytree had an awesome metal-roller propelled slide. We only saw adults use it in the short time we were there. Video below.
Yokohama was high on my list of places I wanted to visit while in Japan. I really knew nothing about it and the desire was probably due to it being home to the Yokohama Baystars baseball team, Japan’s equivalent to the Chicago Cubs (think “lovable losers”).
Last weekend, we popped down to Yokohama for the day. Located a short train ride south of Tokyo, it’s actually the most populated municipality in Japan and second most populated city after Tokyo. Due to its development as a port town in the 1800s, Yokohama is a melting pot of Pacific cultures.
Our first stop was the Shin-Yokohama Raumen Museum, billed as the world’s first food-themed amusement park. On the two lower levels, a 1950s-era Japanese street scene has been replicated in authentic detail with signage, music and a variety of ramen shops. A less-era-authentic magician performed tricks for the large crowd while blasting modern electronic music from his iPhone.
The wait times for each shop are on a chalkboard by the main stairs. We arrived around noon and already some of the shops had 30 minute waits. Waiting that long for ramen in Japan seems a little silly since there are literally 20,000 shops in Tokyo with no wait, but it’s a little like waiting in line at Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland. The wait is part of the experience.
We picked NARUMI-IPPUDO, a French bouillon/Japanese dashi hybrid for our first course. The mini-sized bowls with medium-sized noodles and light broth were the perfect appetizer. In response to the variety of tourists who come through the museum’s doors, most of the shops offer at least one vegetarian bowl and one halal option for the increasing number of Muslim visitors. Guilt-free ramen is the best ramen of all!
Lunch #2 involved one of the aforementioned 30 minute waits. Ryu Shanghai offered a unique spicy ramen with thick noodles in a rich, flavorful soup. The added dollop of the spicy miso sauce on top was enough to open up the sinuses on a cold day.
Kamome Shokudo was one shop caught my attention in the brochure. The original shop washed away in the 2011 earthquake and tsumani that decimated northeastern Japan. The shop has been replicated in the museum, giving their Sendai-style ramen a second life.
Era-correct props dotted the museum’s basement floors. A payphone booth was made even more authentic by the black electrical tape holding the cord to the handset. An old black and white television console showed 1950s professional wrestling matches (side note: the sport’s popularity in the 1950s used to draw large crowds to watch the matches on big screens in Tokyo). A stained vending machine rolled out small glass bottles of Coca Cola. Plenty to see while waiting in those long ramen lines.
Next, we headed south toward Tokyo Bay. Every once in awhile, we get those “doesn’t feel like Japan” moments. The area around Tokyo Bay certainly qualified as one of those times. The massive Landmark Tower, Japan’s second largest building, anchors the skyline and casts a large shadow over the Nippon Maru, a clipper-style boat-turned-museum that was used as a training vessel for the Japanese Merchant Marines from the 1930s to the 1980s.
Looking toward the bay, you can’t miss the Cosmo Clock 21, the centerpiece of the Minato Mirai 21 (MM21) shopping center. Built in 1989, it was the world’s tallest ferris wheel for nearly a decade and, thanks to the digital clock on its face, it still stands as the world’s largest timepiece.
From MM21, we followed Kishamichi Promenade along the bayfront. It felt more like the Cairns Esplanade in Australia than anything we’ve seen in Japan. A running event was taking place on the day we visited, so we shuffled alongside those athletes braving the cold weather along the bayfront, ending up at the Red Brick Warehouse. The event overtook the grounds of the former customs warehouse, which was restored in the early 1990s and is now (of course) a retail center.
From there, we ventured inland toward Yokohama’s thriving Chinatown district. Thousands of Chinese immigrants arrived at the port in the 1800s, bringing with them food (including ramen) and customs that still thrive in Japan today. More than 250 shops are fit into several city blocks, making it one of the world’s largest “Chinatown” districts.
Two ornate and impressive temples appear between the pork bun shops in Chinatown. Guan Di Miao was founded in the 1860s by immigrants as a central spiritual site as well as a tribute to Guan Gong, a well-respected general during the Han Dynasty in around 220 B.C.
The second temple rivals all of the great structures we’ve seen in Japan, yet was built less than a decade ago, officially opening in March 2006. The city had planned on building a large apartment complex on the site, but the community was concerned about the impact such a building would have on the area. They negotiated with the developers and eventually purchased the land, building Mazu Miao in its place.
Less than two hours by train, Yokohama deserves another day trip in the near future. Would love to hear from anyone who’s visited about what we missed the first time around.
Working with young people, I have a chance to hear about some of the “exciting” first rites of passage into adulthood. Students getting their driver’s licenses or first jobs. First forays into drinking, smoking, sex. Forming opinions. Rebellion. Normal teen stuff.
Each culture has its own definitions of the not-so-fine line between childhood and adulthood. But, in the U.S., there’s no official ceremony surrounding it. The closest thing we have is perhaps a “Sweet Sixteen” or the 18th birthday. Latino cultures have the “Quinceañera” for young women at 15 years of age. In Japan, there is a public holiday on the second Monday of January, which is deemed “Coming of Age Day” (Seijin no hi).
In Japan, the legal age of adulthood is 20—for voting, drinking and smoking. For about a year, I’ve been hearing about the preparations for this day from some of our sophomore students at the university. And finally, it was here. My Facebook feed was suddenly flooded with loads of young women in beautiful kimonos and ornate hairstyles.
Japan really is a curious mix of the old and the new. To see young women transformed from their jeans and t-shirts to feminine visions from a past era was fascinating.
I asked a few students to share the significance of this day. Maybe it’s similar to asking an 18-year-old in the states why all of a sudden they can now vote, join the military or get a tattoo. “It’s a tradition,” they say. “We’re now considered adults based on our age.”
The Coming of Age ceremony usually takes place the weekend before or around the official public holiday. Young people who turned 20 after April 2 of the previous year or 19-year-olds who will turn 20 before April 1 of the current year take part in the ceremony. Students traveled across Japan to go home for this occasion.
Women usually go to a shop about a year in advance to be fitted for their “furisode” kimono with all of its intricacies. It’s similar to how women choose a wedding gown. It’s a chance to put your stamp of creativity and stand out in the sea of beauties. The family plays a large role and it’s not a cheap endeavor with kimonos costing in the thousands of dollars (many borrow or rent). Young women wake up early—about 6 a.m.—and go to a special salon that does hair and makeup. There is also someone who helps with fitting the furisode.
At around noon, students join their former junior high school classmates in a public hall for the ceremony. From what I understand, there are many speeches and formalities. Most of the men wear suits and a few wear the men’s version of the kimono, which is called a hakama.
I taught Masaaki when he studied abroad in Oregon (he has now returned to Japan). His appearance stood out to me as he was one of the few who chose to rent a hakama for this day. He said three people had to help him dress in the kimono. “After I wore the kimono, I ate special lunch with my relatives gathered,” Masaaki said.
And after the ceremony? Students have a reunion with their classmates. And, then the parties! And rowdiness! “I had second and third parties. I enjoyed until next morning ‘cause we were legally able to drink alcohol!” Masaaki said.
Shuta is a student at the university. He just turned 20 in October and he traveled two hours by plane to get to his hometown of Isahaya in Nagasaki Prefecture. He wore a suit for his ceremony and he said he didn’t have enough time to rent a kimono. In October, when some of the other students surprised him for his birthday in our class, he said a few words about the significance of 20 and how he must be a man now and take schoolwork and his future seriously.
But when I ask some of my students if they feel like an adult now that they have gone through the ceremony, most of them say not really. Are they ready to vote and form opinions and explore all of the fun and not-so-fun rites of adulthood? Maybe not. And that’s OK. There’s no hurry to grow up.
A mysterious sign appeared in our neighborhood trash collection area around New Year. In addition to being the receptacle for our weekly waste, the concrete bunker also serves as the neighborhood bulletin board. Usually the messages are related to trash pickup, but I could read enough of this sign that I knew it wasn’t about garbage.
I snapped a photo and, after a few minutes with Google Translate, I discovered the local community center was hosting a South American music performance. I slapped it on our calendar and we made plans to attend.
On the day of the performance, we climbed to the second floor of the community center, greeted by a row of shoes placed on newspaper. A basket of slippers sat nearby and we dutifully replaced our shoes with the public slippers. Many brought their own slippers, so we’ll know for next time.
The band was made up of nine very skilled Japanese musicians. A couple of them played the zampoña (pan flute), two others played the charango (lute) and an energetic drummer pounded away on the bombo legüero, all the while urging the crowd to clap along. They reminded us of a less-authentic—yet equally talented—version of an Ecuadorian group we sought out at the Oregon State Fair every summer.
We were handed a couple sheets of paper when we came in. One was a schedule and the other a lyric sheet. Over the course of an hour, the audience was encouraged to sing along with about half of the songs. I couldn’t read fast enough to sing along, but I was surprised at how well I was able to follow along while our fellow listeners harmonized with the band.
After the show, people shuffled into a room across the hall for snacks. We tried to slip out quietly, but were stopped by one of the organizers who spoke just enough English to get his point across—it’s very important that you stay and celebrate. OK… shoes off, slippers back on.
We were glad we did. We told the man our address and he attempted to find our neighborhood table. In the end, I think we were just added to a table with some empty space as we didn’t recognize anyone at the table. Immediately, our new neighbors poured us green tea and began asking questions. One man spoke excellent English while another couple had a daughter living in the U.S. and learned a little bit of English each day on the internet.
Each table had the same spread: pizza from the recently-opened Domino’s, assorted hosomaki (thin sushi rolls), sandwiches, fruit and desserts. We waited and watched how they handled the food (some ate the pizza with their hands, others with chopsticks!) and followed suit (pizza with hands… our chopstick skills are good, but this was some next level stuff!).
At the end of the meal, the best English speaker asked if we wanted some New Year dessert soup. Oshiruko is a cold, sweet bean soup often served with mochi cakes. Ours came with small, multicolored, flower-shaped cakes that resembled the marshmallows in Lucky Charms cereal.
After lunch, a man named Naka, who participated in the local English Club, came over to talk with us. Shortly after, he brought over another member—Kuni—who works as an investment banker and spent five years in the 1980s working in the World Trade Center in New York City. They asked the usual questions (where are you from, why are you here, etc.) and we talked about how difficult it is to learn each other’s languages.
While we talked, the organizers passed out rubber bands to everyone in the room. We were about to play the biggest game of Rock, Paper, Scissors (janken/じゃんけん) that I’ve ever participated in.
We paired off and began to battle. In the one-and-done format, if you win, you get the other person’s rubber band and move on to the next opponent. I beat Kuni in the first match, but then lost to a man from the next table who slow-rolled my scissors (choki/ちょき) with his rock (guu/ぐう).
A lady from our table made it all the way to the final group. Although she didn’t win it all, she did return with some sort of coffee-related prize.
We helped cleanup the table as best as possible. As we picked up, each of the ladies nearby placed a handful of the leftover Lindt truffles in front of us. We must have taken six or so with us.
We walked home and I couldn’t help but shake my head. It seems like every time we venture out into our neighborhood, something special happens. We’re still a bit of a spectacle, but people accept us into their communities so readily that the novelty wears off quickly and, before long, we’re just another neighbor.
The first week of the New Year is all about starting anew. There’s something about the changing of the calendar that invites retrospection of the year gone by and the setting of goals for the coming year.
Most of Japan is closed during the days surrounding New Year’s Day, giving people the opportunity to focus on starting the year right. In Kawagoe, that means heading out to Kita-in Temple’s Daruma Festival, held annually on January 3.
Daruma are round-ish dolls with bushy-featured faces and are believed to have inspired Russia’s iconic matryoshka dolls. Daruma dolls are about goal-setting for the coming year. They come in a variety of sizes and colors, each with a different meaning. They’re slightly weighted in the bottom so, if they’re tipped, they’ll always remain in an upright position like a Weeble. The feature is a metaphor for resiliency as Daruma are often associated with the phrase “nanakorobi yaoki (七転び八起き),” meaning “fall seven times and stand up eight.”
The Daruma’s eyes are both blank. Once you’ve decided on your goal for the year, you color in one of the eyes. If you accomplish your goal, you color in the other eye. If you don’t achieve your goal, well… I guess you have a Popeye Daruma.
At the beginning of the New Year, people bring last year’s Daruma and other charms (decorative arrows called kabura-ya (鏑矢) are another common New Year charm) back to the temple or shrine to be ceremonially burned. Mountains of 2014 charms piled near Kita-in’s main temple.
Vendors lined the paths of the temple grounds with new Daruma and charms for sale. If you want general good fortune, buy a red one. Want to focus on love and happiness? Get a white one. Even corporations get in the act, buying larger Daruma equal to the audacity of the goal.
It wouldn’t be a Japanese festival without Japanese festival food and the Daruma Festival had plenty. Hockey puck-shaped pancakes filled with cream or sweet bean, called imagawayaki (今川焼き), are a popular sweet treat. Hot, steamed potatoes with butter, mayonnaise and kimchi are another mainstay at the local festivals. We managed to catch the okonomiyaki guy just before he sprinkled on the fish flakes, making for a filling lunch.
Walking through town, many of the shrines were still packed with visitors paying their first respects of the year. One of our favorite little shrines, Kawagoe Hachimangu, featured a brand-new mural celebrating the year of the sheep.
A couple days later, we visited Koma Shrine in nearby Hidaka. One of Viktoria’s students, Akinari, is a local and volunteers at the shrine during the holidays. He had ample opportunity to practice his English with us as we peppered him with questions about the traditions and meanings of different things.
He patiently walked us through the ceremonial hand washing process (temizu/手水) before paying respect at the shrine (toss a coin in the bin in front of the shrine, bow twice, clap twice, make your prayer then bow once).
We bought our fortunes (omikuji/おみくじ) for the year, which Koma Shrine kindly offered in English and Korean in addition to Japanese. Mine was only “Slightly Lucky,” so I tied it to the tree branch with all the others in hopes that the slight luck would attach to the tree instead of me.
Akinari’s job at the shrine is selling omamori (御守), charms that provide blessings and luck for the holder. Viktoria and Akinari each bought a ryokō anzen omamori (旅行安全御守) or a travel safety amulet to protect us on our various adventures abroad in 2015.
Akinari also gave us the low-down on some of the festival foods that we always wondered about. Hidaka’s past is intertwined with Japan’s complicated relationship with Korea and, as a result, has a lot of Korean influences. He explained toppoki (tteokbokki in Korean), which is mochi, tofu and eggs in a spicy sauce. We’d seen it before, but the mochi look like little sausages, so we always avoided it. It was delicious! We also continued our search for the best imagawayaki. This one may be the leader in the clubhouse!
Afterwards, he took us to nearby Kinchakuda-Manjushage Park, close to one of our favorite restaurants (Alishan Cafe). The park is famous for its red spider lilies, which bloom by the millions in the fall, flooding the rice field in a sea of red. Goats and horses at a farm opposite the park were apt as we closed out the Year of the Horse and rang in the Year of the Sheep (goats… sheep… close enough!).
Getting the local experience was really valuable and we couldn’t be more appreciative of Akinari giving up a Sunday night to show us around. It’s a great memory of our first New Year in Japan.
Robert and I love traditions. And we go all out. Instead of focusing on Christmas activities this year, we set our sights on Japanese New Year traditions. We were in luck because Japan is steeped in traditions and we were on a mission to try them all. Here is our journey into 2015, Year of the Sheep!
Sometime in early December, we started noticing that our local grocery stores started to put up these odd displays. What do round plastic disks, mandarin oranges, bamboo, straw, rope and pine branches have in common? They are parts of a shrine or decoration that is put out in the home to honor the gods. First, the “kagami-mochi” is two round rice cakes, usually with a real or plastic mandarin orange on top. This is part of a shrine placed inside the home. I asked a student if you’re supposed to eat these rice cakes and I guess the answer is no!
Next, “kadomatsu” is made of three, large bamboo sticks and pine branches and are put in the front of the house. These are to house the spirit until January 7; after which they are burned to release the spirit. Last, the “shimekazari” is a straw and rope decoration that is hung on the door to protect from evil spirits.
We did not put up any of these in our home, but it was fun to walk around our neighborhood and notice the varying ways our neighbors practiced this tradition.
We also started noticing that while there were some Christmas card displays, they were largely outnumbered by stacks of postcards with 2015 and its Chinese zodiac sign, the sheep. “Nengajo” are cards you send to loved ones wishing them Happy New Year. We decided to send a handful to relatives and those who sent us a Christmas card. The Japanese Post works overtime to ensure that the cards are delivered on January 1.
The postcards have lottery numbers on them. The winners are announced in mid-January and include prizes like washers, dryers and TV sets. Maybe a Cascadian Abroad reader will be a winner?
New Year’s Eve (NYE) is called “omisoka,” which means the last day of the month. We started our NYE by watching a famous talent show, “Kōhaku Uta Gassen,” on a public broadcasting channel called NHK. It’s a great honor for entertainers to be invited to perform on this show. It’s similar to Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve, or whatever the current iteration is.
I thought the show was really entertaining. It’s a Who’s Who of Japanese actors and musicians. We spotted our favorite soap opera (the show is called “Massan”) actor, who happens to be an American. We saw some mascots like Funassyi and Jinbanyan (orange and white cat). We tried to avoid getting the Japanese version of “Let It Go” stuck in our head.
After watching a little TV, we headed out to Kawagoe in search of a meal. “Toshikoshi soba” is a traditional meal eaten around midnight to ward off evil spirits before the New Year. We found a lovely restaurant that made its own buckwheat noodles near the shrine we were planning to visit. I’ve heard that sometimes the soba is one long noodle and sometimes it is in smaller pieces. We were given a little pot filled with the water the soba was cooked in to drink at the end of the meal. And hot tea and sake to warm up. Delicious! Oiishi!
“Hatsumode” is the year’s first visit to the shrine/temple. We thought about going to Tokyo, which has many large, famous shrines and temples. But with Tokyo NYE crowds projected in the millions, we thought it would be better to see what locals were up to!
We walked to two local shrines, Naritasan Kawagoebetsuin and Kita-in, alternating our time between both. We stood in line at the former to ring the bell at midnight. The latter was bigger and had many festival food and vendors of good luck charms and “Daruma” dolls.
After midnight, the crowds started to multiply and line up to say the first prayer of the year.
“Joya no Kane” are purification bells. If one listens to or rings the bell 108 times, evil desires may be destroyed. It can’t hurt, right? Shortly, before midnight we climbed the bell tower and each rung the bell. It was definitely one of my favorite experiences in Japan so far. We were the only white people and, while I was nervous that we would be thrown out as nonbelievers, no one seemed perturbed by us participating in their religious traditions.
Before midnight, we heard a group count down “shi, san, ni, ichi” (four, three, two, one) and a few “Happy New Year” exclamations in English. The main temple bells started to ring. It was a subdued, but happy reaction.
We ran into friends at another temple later in the morning and rang the bell again with them. Doubling the purification of our evil thoughts, perhaps?
It’s a custom to give children money as a present for the New Year, called “otoshidama.” Similar to the Chinese custom you may have heard of, children are given money in a small envelope that can be red or decorated with designs appealing to children.
I asked some of my college-aged students whether they would still receive money and the answer was a resounding, YES! As long as a “child” is enrolled in college, they still receive money from parents and relatives. Popular amounts for children range from about $10 to $50 and for teenagers, upwards to $100.
We have a handful of small children living in our apartment complex so we decided to give “otoshidama” a try. No harm in fostering good will with neighbors, right? We presented the children with their envelopes (our name is written on the back so they know who it is from). I think our neighbors were shocked and embarrassed, which is a normal reaction to anything we do.
Otoshidama money can be saved for serious ventures or spent in stores promising New Year’s deals and grab bags called “fukubukuro.” Shopping is a popular Japanese hobby so we weren’t surprised by this tradition. And anything to jump start the economy, right? We decided to “grab” this bag in our local bakery filled with a cute blanket, a huge loaf of bread and some sweet breads. It was about $9.
“Zōni” is a traditional soup eaten for the New Year that has blocks of “mochi” rice cakes floating in it. We purchased a huge bag of mochi, which are small square blocks of rice flour. They are as hard as a brick and look like soap. We noticed long ago that our toaster oven has a mochi setting so in they went. You wouldn’t think so, but after a few minutes, they emerge as melty, chewy little cakes. They can also be cooked over a grill.
These rice cakes are so popular in the New Year festivities that sometimes people choke on them. Every year, a warning is issued, especially to the elderly. Chew your mochi carefully, y’all. There’s nothing really to compare mochi to in the states. It’s like a gooey, melty block of carbs. Yum!
Oh, how fun. Thanks for a great New Year, Japan.
Watch the video below for footage from the NHK New Year’s special and the ringing of the bells at Naritasan Kawagoebetsuin.