Changing Impressions of 日本

Over the past 4 months, I have learned more about Japanese culture and cultures in general than I ever expected. My classmates come from numerous different countries on every continent of the world except Antarctica, and I have spoken to many of them about their lives in their own countries and Japan. 

River in Kyoto

Throughout this time, I have done my best to get to know people and learn about Japanese culture, but I feel like I have more to learn now than I did when I first arrived in Japan. There are so many things that I want to know, so much information that I know I'm missing because I never found the right person to ask.

What's the story behind the picture on this manhole cover in Otsu?

Japan is a lot like the US in some ways, and I have encountered some aspects of Japanese culture before in my Japanese American friends, but the majority of Japanese culture is very different from what I would have guessed before coming here. People take for granted that what their family members do affects their reputation and carefully consider how their actions will affect their family's reputation. In the US, while it is true that people are often judged by their families, it is not something that we really think about, and many Americans try to pretend that their families do not affect them in any way, whether or not this is actually true.

Strange English signs in Hirakata

 While I have been in Hirakata, I have found many ways in which Japanese culture here is not the same as the Japanese culture American media portrays. One major difference is Japanese people's willingness to communicate how they feel. I admit it is harder to find out how Japanese people feel than it is to find out how Americans feel since Americans often like to talk about themselves, but my Japanese friends definitely do talk about themselves as well and share things with me that I never expected to learn from them. It is true that my American friends are more likely to tell me how they feel, but the longer I stay here the more ways I find to tell how my Japanese friends feel even when they don't come out and tell me.
As I think about returning to the US, it is strange to realize how much my time here has affected how I see my own country as well as how I see Japan. Before coming to Japan, I never had anything to compare American culture to, and I took many things for granted that I now realize are actually unique to the US. It will be interesting to see in what ways I have learned to appreciate my own country, and in what ways I can now see fault with my culture that I was previously unable to see. In any case, Hirakata has begun to feel like home to me and I will miss living here.

Kansai Gaidai in the snow

Kansai Gaidai courtyard

Fallen Sakura petals

Kansai Gaidai Japanese Garden in the rain

My host family's cat, Rina

Kodomo no hi decorations at my host family's house

Temple in Otsu

Okonomiyaki that accidentally looked like Fujisan

Inari shrine in Tokyo area

Japanese style bathroom

Hikonejo garden with Hikonejo in background

Hikonejo moat

Newly planted rice

Hikonejo castle Museum

The Things We Miss

Sometimes it's surprising how much is right under our noses (or feet) that we don't even notice. I have been walking directly over Hirakata-shi manhole covers every day since I arrived in Japan and hardly even noticed them, but it turns out they actually have a story to tell.

Manhole cover not far from Kansai Gaidai

Today, I happened to ask my host grandmother about the image on this man hole cover, and she launched into a detailed (but unfortunately very rapid) account of the history and culture of Hirakata-shi and the surrounding area. I really wish I had been able to understand everything she said because what I could understand was very interesting. She told me that the flower at the top of the manhole cover is a kiku (chrysanthemum) flower, which Hirakata-shi is apparently famous for because of the annual 菊人形 (kiku ningyou) festival where life-sized dolls are dressed in chrysanthemum flowers and set up in displays like this one:

Image borrowed from hamakazuchan.web.infoseek.co.jp

My host grandmother also told me that the boat depicted on the manhole cover is one of the many boats that transported goods between Kyoto and Osaka along the Yodogawa river in the Edo Period. Or possibly one of the small boats used to sell food to the merchants who were traveling between Kyoto and Osaka.

Yodogawa near Hirakata station

The portion of the Yodogawa river between Kyoto and Osaka was a major trade route, transporting goods and people between the two big cities. Because of this, Hirakata became a popular place to rest along the way, famous for its many inns and restaurants, including the Kagiya inn which was built in the late 1500's and has now been turned into a museum. (http://www.osaka-info.jp/en/search/detail/sightseeing_5171.html)

According to my host family, Hirakata-shi used to be known as “Kurawanka” because that was the call the food merchants in Hirakata used when they sold food and drink to the passing boats. “Kurawanka” means something like “Why don't you eat?” and there are still many things in Hirakata with “kurawanka” in their name, although I never realized where the phrase comes from before and would certainly never have guessed that "kurawanka" was in any way related to the images on Hirakata's manhole covers.

From Kanji to Romaji

The Japanese writing system is an amazing combination of different characters. It is not at all uncommon to see a sign that makes use of kanji, hiragana, katakana, Arabic numerals and romaji/English.  This “Cat Park” sign, for example, is in no way out of the ordinary, although it uses all these.

The hiragana in this photo is a little hard to see, but it is there

In addition to these writing systems, written Japanese (like many other languages) is accompanied by a variety of symbols; some created in Japan and some (like the P for parking in the "Cat Park" photo) borrowed from other countries. Some of these symbols are easily recognized by Westerners, for example, restroom symbols. But some of them are not used in the US and do not have immediately understandable meanings. The red triangle often seen in windows of large buildings, for example. I eventually had to ask some of my Japanese friends what this symbol means because I couldn't figure it out.

Turns out it marks windows that can be used as an emergency exit, but not all my Japanese friends know this so it may not be as useful as one might hope.

There are also symbols that Westerners associate with a different meaning from what the Japanese associate them with. The most dramatic of these is the swastika. Like any American who doesn't know what this symbol means in Asia, my first thought when I first saw a swastika on a map of Japan was that it was somehow related to Hitler. Of course I figured out that that wasn't what it meant pretty quickly and it's not identical to the WWII swastika but, at first, Japanese maps looked quite unfriendly to me:

All these different characters and symbols come together to make a written language very different from written American English. It is true that written English uses the Roman Alphabet, Arabic numerals and various symbols, but it doesn't have the same effect. The visual texture of written English comes mainly from the use of different fonts and colors, not from using different characters altogether, and it seems like more of the information has to be in the words themselves, not how they are written. Using so many different modes of visual communication may seem a bit cumbersome, but it does not slow Japanese people down at all. In fact, if anything they seem to absorb information from text more quickly than Americans do, and it's possible this may be partly due to the additional information they receive from how a word is written. So, what seems confusing and overwhelming to foreigners is actually helpful to Japanese people.

花見

Every year, when the sakura is in bloom, tens of thousands of Japanese people gather together for 花見 (hanami), or cherry blossom viewing. Hanami is a social event, and everyone shows up to celebrate the beauty of the sakura, young and old, male and female alike. My host family is no different, like many other Japanese families, they have a tradition of going to hanami every year, and made it clear to me that it was a very important event and it would mean a lot to them if I came to Kyoto with them, which of course I did.

Sakura Blossom at Heian Shrine, Kyoto

Yozakura in a park near my host family's house

We spent the entire day at hanami, first in Kyoto at Heian Shrine (平安神宮) and then after dinner at a park near my host family's house to see the yozakura (night sakura). Groups of smiling people strolled along the crowded street with cameras, gazing at the glowing white branches that arched over their heads. The atmosphere was lively, and the experience reminded me of going to a fair or to see fireworks on July 4^th in the US. There were even stalls to buy food and other things, with tables outside where people gathered to eat.

One of the many stalls selling food to sakura viewers

I would never have guessed from looking at the crowd that they were all there for flowers. But, in Japan, sakura and hanami have been important parts of the culture for a very long time. Sakura is incredibly striking for the short time it is in full bloom, but soon the petals fall to the ground and the trees are bare again. Because of its short life, sakura has become a symbol of the impermanence of life and is often  associated with samurai who, like sakura, were admired while they lived but often had their lives cut short. This use of sakura as a symbol of impermanence did not disappear with the samurai; in WWII, kamikaze pilots often painted sakura blossoms on their planes and were associated with sakura because they were seen as pure and short-lived, like the sakura itself.

Yokosuka MXY-7 Ohka Kamikaze plane with sakura on side (photo borrowed from blueyonder.co.uk)

And sakura continues to come up in popular culture in places I would not have expected to see it. In the US, a delicate pink flower would never be considered masculine in any way, but here men look forward to hanami just as much as women do, and I have seen male singers perform on stages decorated with sakura blossoms. Where US culture sees the fragility and impermanence of the sakura blossom as a weakness and a fault, Japanese culture sees it as a symbol of the inevitable transient nature of life. A symbol of life and death at the same time. Of course they also know it's just a flower.

Comparing Annie Leibovitz and James Nachtwey

Annie Leibovitz and James Nachtwey are both highly talented photographers, famous for their unique and moving photographic styles. Leibovitz is mainly a portrait photographer, and often spends a great deal of time consulting with her subject and arranging the perfect shot. Nachtwey is a war photographer, who has hardly enough time to aim his camera before his subject has moved. However, their strategies are not as different as they first appear. Both of them are artists and have a message they want to convey to their audience, and they use similar methods to achieve this goal.

Leibovitz often spends hours preparing for a shoot, manipulating the lighting, costumes, composition, décor etc to get the look she wants. Her photos do not always look like reality as we know it, but they show us something about reality that we might otherwise have missed. Something about the subject that, despite being at least partially invisible, is an integral part of the subject's character and gives us a deeper understanding of the subject. In order to have so much depth in her photos, she must first get to know her subject and learn who they are and how they want to appear. She spends a great deal of time working with her subjects and thinking about how to set up a shot that will illuminate something about them. Her photos range from simple portraits of members of her family to elaborate scenes with costumes and many people, but she shows the same dedication to each photo and says "I don't have two lives. This is one life, and the personal pictures and the assignment work are all part of it" (quoted from pbs.org).

Annie Leibovitz's Mom by Annie Leibovitz (photo borrowed from iwant.on.ca)

The Ladies of LA by Annie Leibovitz (photo borrowed from vanityfair.com)

Nachtwey also photographs a wide range of subjects, but his photos all have a similar theme. They are all about war, sickness, poverty and suffering. He cannot prepare for a shoot because his subjects are not there with the intention of being photographed. Often the action is fast paced and unpredictable, making it impossible to plan the next shot. His goal is to give a voice to the people he photographs in hopes that he can somehow ease their suffering and, because of this, he says that "It's not so much that I want my pictures to be looked upon as art objects as it is a form of communication" (quoted from imdb.com). But that does not mean he does not use the same skills that Leibovitz uses. In order to communicate what he wants to communicate, he must be in the middle of the action and to do this he must gain the trust of the people around him in the same way that Leibovitz must. If the people around him did not trust him, he would not be able to photograph such intimate moments of people's lives, but because his subjects trust him, and feel he might give them a voice they would not otherwise have, he is able to photograph events he would not otherwise be able to photograph, such as this one:

Mourning a Soldier in Bosnia, James Nachtwey (photo borrowed from jamesnachtwey.com)

And, like other artists such as Leibovitz, Nachtwey often makes use of framing and composition to convey the mood of his photos. Like in this one, where the child is very small and viewed from above to convey loneliness and vulnerability.

Orphan in Romania, James Nachtwey (photo borrowed from jamesnachtwey.com)

Overall, whether Nachtwey admits it or not, I think his works are just as much art as the works of Leibovitz or any other artist, and their methods are not all that different, despite the different circumstances. Both Nachtwey and Leibovitz learn as much as they can about their subject so that they can take a more truthful photograph, and they both know that trust is an important part of getting a good picture. There are definitely other things that could be learned from these two photographers, but I think the most important attribute that they share is their ability to earn the trust of their subjects, and use that to create more meaningful photos.

Portrait

I met りさ (Risa) for the first time last weekend in 広島 (Hiroshima). She speaks some English and is patient with my clumsy Japanese, so we were able to communicate fairly well.

When asked what kind of person she thinks she is, りさ's response was that her friends tell her she is まじめ (serious), and that she likes to think about all kinds of things, even everyday things. She was interested when I talked about American Culture, and seems to like hearing about other countries as well. She says she plans to go to Sweden, where she will study the education system.

I told her I wanted to let her decide how she was portrayed in the photos but she wasn't really sure how she wanted to look. We talked about it, and she eventually decided on a thoughtful look for one of the pictures, but I may have influenced that decision a little by mentioning it as an option.

I asked her to look out the window and think about something but I don't know if she really was thinking about anything when I took it.

Before taking this picture, I took one of her looking thoughtful in her favorite study spot on campus. When she said she liked it, I thought I heard something strange in her voice, but I assumed she meant it and I liked it too. I was going to post it, but when I wanted to show the picture to りさ’s friends, she stopped me in a way that made it clear to me she did not actually like how the picture represented her, so I did not used it.

She wanted the other picture to be a happy picture because she is “really enjoying her life” and really likes that she can meet people from all over the world at Kansai Gaidai. Unfortunately, getting her to look happy without looking posed was next to impossible. She kept posing and smiling too big every time I raised my camera. I did eventually get a picture that looks like the smile I saw when she was having a good time in 広島, despite her strong reaction to my camera.

She is actually listening to a friend asking her what makes her happy in this picture, which helped her smile look more natural I think.

I listened carefully to her response when she told me she liked the two photos I ended up using, and both times she sounded like she meant it and let me show the picture to her friends, so I think she was happy with the combination, but I also think I influenced her choice of how she should look by the questions I asked, and our limited ability communicate may also have effected how I portrayed her because there were a few times when I could not understand what she was saying and she didn't know how to say it in English. If I had known more Japanese, or asked different questions, these pictures might be very different.

Neighborhood 田口

It's hard for an outsider to know much about a neighborhood, even if they happen to live there. Not being familiar with how Japanese neighborhoods are marked, I did not even know the name of my new neighborhood until I asked my host mother about it. She told me that the neighborhood is called 田口 (Taguchi), which I now realize should have been obvious given the fact that there are signs saying just that on almost every street corner in the area.

This one is on the corner of the street I now live on. I have passed by it every day since I got here but somehow didn't realize what it meant. There are so many signs scattered all over Hirakata that it's hard to pay attention to them all, and though I remember looking at this one and wondering what it meant, there were always other signs for me to wonder about so I never paid particular notice to it, until I found out from my host mother that 田口 is the name of my new neighborhood.

While I was talking to my host mother, I also asked her about the rice fields I have seen around 田口 and all over Hirakata. There are a good number of them and -- though they are not large for rice fields -- they take up quite a bit of space in such a compact city.

She seemed a little surprised that I would ask, but told me all about how much work goes into taking care of rice plants and how they grow for 6 months and must have the correct amount of water the entire time. It was hard to tell if she was impressed by the rice growers or thought they were foolish as she told me that she could never take care of rice because it is too much work.

When I asked if they grow the rice to sell it, my host mother nodded, but then immediately started telling me about how rice is very precious and that's why they work so hard to take care of it. She told me that rice is very important to Japanese people, and that long ago they would always eat all the rice they were given, and leave no rice in their bowls. Maybe that's not strictly true, but it does show something about how my host mother sees rice. I don't know if the people who actually grow the rice feel that way, but I think in some way my host mother thinks it is important to keep growing rice in her neighborhood, not for the money, or so they can eat it but because rice is "very precious."