Ukiyo-e and the Tan Tartan Mystery

I went to the Ukiyo-e Ota Memorial Museum of Art the other day. Ukiyo-e is one of the most famous forms of Japanese art, and everyone has seen them. Here's a description of ukiyo-e from Wikipedia:

Ukiyo-e (浮世絵kiyo-e), "pictures of the floating world", is a genre of Japanese woodblock prints (or woodcuts) and paintings produced between the 17th and the 20th centuries, featuring motifs of landscapes, the theatre and pleasure quarters. It is the main artistic genre of woodblock printing in Japan.

Ukiyo, meaning "floating world", refers to the impetuous young culture that bloomed in the urban centers of Edo (modern-day Tokyo), Osaka, and Kyoto that were a world unto themselves. It is an ironic allusion to the homophone term "Sorrowful World" (憂き世), the earthly plane of death and rebirth from which Buddhists sought release. The art form rose to great popularity in the metropolitan culture of Edo (Tokyo) during the second half of the 17th century, originating with the single-color works of Hishikawa Moronobu in the 1670s. At first, only India ink was used, then some prints were manually colored with a brush, but in the 18th century Suzuki Harunobu developed the technique of polychrome printing to produce nishiki-e.

Ukiyo-e were affordable because they could be mass-produced. They were meant for mainly townsmen, who were generally not wealthy enough to afford an original painting. The original subject of ukiyo-e was city life, in particular activities and scenes from the entertainment district. Beautiful courtesans, bulky sumo wrestlers and popular actors would be portrayed while engaged in appealing activities. Later on landscapes also became popular. Political subjects, and individuals above the lowest strata of society (courtesans, wrestlers and actors) were not sanctioned in these prints and very rarely appeared. Sex was not a sanctioned subject either, but continually appeared in ukiyo-e prints. Artists and publishers were sometimes punished for creating these sexually explicit shunga.

Here's some examples:

These two are by my favorite, Hokusai. Really famous.
























I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside the museum itself, but the exhibition was cool. Many of the pieces were on loan from the Musee Guimet, and the cool part was the reunion of his famous Tiger and Dragon scrolls, which were meant to be viewed together but hadn't been in the same room for most of their existence:




















We had to remove our shoes to go up to these scrolls, as they were in a case that had to be viewed while kneeling on tatami mats. It really added to the experience, showing reverence for these great masterpieces. Much better experience than seeing, say, The Mona Lisa at the Louvre, where one has to queue up for miles and quickly file past the (in my opinion, overrated) piece which was behind several inches of bullet-proof glass.

Anyway, most of the pieces were supremely beautiful, except maybe the sumo wrestlers, so I was really surprised to see these two pieces near the end of the exhibit, also by Hokusai:





































I found many other super-creepy works in the books in the gift shop, so I guess demons and ghosts were popular subjects also. No one does horror quite like the Japanese, as many have seen in the recent deluge of Japanese horror movies like Ringu (also well-redone by Hollywood) and The Grudge (badly remade).

As I said, I wasn't allowed to take pictures inside, but I did take this one outside as I was waiting in line to go in (about half and hour):




















I just liked the lines. Anyway, while I was waiting, I noticed someone wearing a bit of Tan Tartan. Now, I'd noticed this particular color of tartan on many people since I've been here. Mainly, I'd seen it on the scarves of schoolgirls, and I'd wondered if it was a school-uniform thing. But then I noticed it on other people. It was really prevalent. So, I decided that I would see how many people I could find on this trip to Harajuku who were wearing this particular tartan. As you can see, there were a lot. The first two were in line with me, and the rest were out in Harajuku and the last, on the bus on the way home.






















































































































I don't know what's up with the Tan Tartan. Why not red? Or green? And why is it everywhere? A true fashion mystery.

Lastly, here's a picture of M&D's buddy Min-suk, and the fancy cake he brought over to our house. I think it's really cool that guests always bring something to eat or drink, even if it's just for a 'playdate.' On the other hand, that means I have to remember to pick something up if I go over someone else's house. I will have to do that on Friday (provided M is over his cold and none of us get it), as we have been invited for a Korean evening at the Moons'.




























This is Min-suk's ridiculously cute-n-chubby baby sister:

Doll and Toy Museum

Don't be scared: THIS ISN'T ALL PICTURES OF DOLLS. THERE ARE OTHER COOL THINGS, TOO.

There are a lot of museums in Tokyo and Yokohama. This is my first so far, but I plan on visiting a lot more. I'd been meaning to go to the Yokohama Doll Museum since we moved here. I'll admit it: I like dolls. Not baby dolls or those creepy giant-eyed dolls fom the 1960s, but old ones and ones dressed in high fashions. They are so amazing, those ornate dresses in miniature, with all the tiny details of lace, ribbon, buttons, and accessories. And I've always loved old things. They give me a little chill that I've never been able to really explain to anyone to my satisfaction. I've always liked antique shops, and old houses with seldom-explored attics and basements. It's almost like I can feel the residues of long-dead personalities clinging to the objects they touched. That, and they just spent more time on crafting things before our disposable plastic age. No one will collect plastic 2-liter Diet Coke bottles or IKEA furniture, but antique furniture and old glass medicine bottles are still nice to look at, and they last a hell of a lot longer. You can see the care for the aesthetics. What's wrong with making something beautiful as well as functional? That whole 'they just don't make them like they used to' adage is true, but it has become something my generation really has no right to say. By the time we were kids, functional and throwaway was the rule.

But I digress. I went to the Doll Museum, and while it was smaller and less extensive than I was hoping, it was still pretty cool. I have a feeling I wasn't supposed to take pictures, but I turned off my flash and waited until the wandering curators/security types were otherwise occupied before snapping.

The first room was for dolls representing different nations. I especially liked the Indian ones and the Indonesian ones. The fabrics and colors are lovely.





































This is the Croatian set. I owned this set! It was given to me by a Hungarian friend, so I always assumed they were Hungarian. I guess I was wrong. I have since lost the male, but I still have the female.




















I have always been kind of creeped out by African art. It used to give me the shivers to walk around the African mask room at the Cleveland Museum of Art (one of the best art museums in the world, believe it or not. I consider myself very lucky to have grown up with it). I'm not sure why this stuff is scary to me. Primitive and folk art from other areas of the world doesn't have the same effect. It just seems extra primitive and violent or something. I'm not sure.
































This set represents the United States (and one Canada). I thought it odd that the dolls chosen to represent my culture are examples of traditions we white people have either tried to wipe out or have relegated to kitsch. Should we instead have cowboy hats and gangsta rags? I don't feel these dolls represent the American majority, and I wondered whether it is the same for all the other nations. Are all the 'traditional costumes' those of mostly-exterminated minority cultures?




















In the next room was a historical collection. I thought this one had a very Mae West face, though not the figure:




















These two were in the 'Automata' category, which I guess means you wind them up and they do something. I wished I had been able to read the descriptions. I can't believe people gave their kids stuff like this. My kids get plastic and still manage to wreck it in a week.






































This is a really ornate 'doll house,' though I'm sure it was off-limits to the grubby hands of little girls. A woman who worked there gave me a lovely explanation, but all she translated for me was chiisai (small), which was one of the only words I actually understood, so it was pretty much wasted on me. Sigh. It was really neat, anyway.















The rest of it was mostly old toys.

Like the Hoop Zing Girl and Mr. Scary Skullyface:
















Mr. & Mrs. Astroboy. I didn't realize how old he was, or that he had a female counterpart:




















Some of these look like old comic strip charcaters to me:












One room was devoted to the private collection of one guy, at least I think that's what it was. It was amazing, the amount of stuff in this collection, all kinds of pop-culture stuff and trappings of eras gone by. I'm guessing it represented a 19202-1950s timeline. There were tons of posters, a mind-boggling collection of tins, matchbooks, cosmetic containers, tin watch boxes, advertisements, perfume bottles, etc., mostly in an art deco meets Japanese aesthetic style (which actually had a huge impact on the Art Nouveau and Deco movements, anyway).

My favorite poster. Who knew ink could be so alluring?



















Matchboxes:














Cards: Lots of naked chicks inviting you to their bars and clubs and cafes:
















This mannequin was standing in the corner, I assume because she was vintage. I thought she was rather eerily life-like:



















Cool tins. I'm not sure what for:















More cool tins, for Shiseido soap. So beautiful. I need some of these.




















I adore old visions of The Future. Like Metropolis and Buck Rogers comics. Where everyone has a ray gun and a fishbowl helmet and creepy robots made of tin cans menace society.















Spooky nationalistic kids marching:




















Yea, Betty! and friends. I love the old cartoons, too. So surreal and un-PC. and why is Mickey Mouse so representative of Disney? When's the last time they made a Mickey Mouse movie? He shows up on everything here, especially clothes.












There were a lot of action figures, for lack of a better term, for products like candy and other food companies. I guess they have been doing the merchandizing thing for awhile.

The Milky girl: still a common site in Japan today, and she hasn't undergone a makeover like the Campbell Soup kids did or Betty Crocker.














Sambo-like guy as a cook hanging out with his buddies the butler-birds and happy baby bunnies:















I liked this guy's collection so much that I bought a book in the gift shop. It has inspired some painting ideas. I can't read it, but I can look at the pretty pictures.

There were some modern dolls on the first floor, by modern doll artists. I find most modern dolls weird, because they usually try to give them either more human faces or highly stylized ones, with GREAT BIG EYES or mouths like the main characters in The Dark Crystal. I guess I like my doll-faces idealized. Anyway, here are a few I thought pretty.

A ghostly white one:



















And her black-clad counterpart:



















I just liked this one's hair. She was for sale in the giftshop. If I ever have long hair again, and I'm thinking about it (really passively, i.e., not cutting my hair), I want to do it like this once:















I know a lot of people think dolls are creepy. Mostly I don't find them so, but this one did haunt me a little. It's the eyes. I kept expecting her to blink:




















Sorry to all those who think dolls are creepy or just stupid. Or whose illusions about me that I have shattered. Yeah, I like dolls.

Milkman

There are many different things to get used to in Japan, obviously. One of them is door-to-door solicitation. A disadvantage of being a stay-at-home mom is dealing with answering the door to people who have a catalog of magazine subscriptions in their hands and a prepared spiel that I can't understand. Or the guy in coveralls and a broom in his hand. I think he wanted to sell me house-cleaning service. Door-to-door salesmen are bad enough, but add to that the fact that I can't understand most of what they are trying to tell me, and I have to interrupt with wakarimasen, gomen nasai (I don't understand, so sorry). I couldn't buy what they were selling even if I wanted to. At least I can play the gaijin card, so they don't try too hard.

Yesterday, tho, as I was about to wakarimasen my way out of another spiel, the guy handed me a bag of products. "Sample," the guy got out of his mouth. And "one week." I got to answer wakarimasu! Arigato, this time. I can't read the catalog he gave me, but I do get to enjoy samples of milk, yogurt, and vegetable juice. At least, I think it's milk and yogurt. They have cryptic numbers and letters on them, so they could be secret chemical formulas that will make me taller or give me super-powers or something. I guess D will find out, because I put one in his lunch today. I'll scrutinize him when I pick him up after school and see of he looks different.































And speaking of cryptic, I purchased a sesame seed grinder (yummy on ramen) at the Ramen Museum. I have no idea what "Slicky-N" means and what is has to do with sesame seeds, but it works great.

Birthday Party #1 and Ramen Museum

It was a combined-birthday weekend at the Blue Corn. Helen, John, Hiroshi, me, and some other people all have January birthdays, and Mooney was playing, so it was a good excuse for a party.







Opening Band









M is very happy about his cream soda float. Which he did not finish.
























Jeff and Alex





The joint was jumpin'
















Speedy and Andy













Speedy all riled up









At some point we went nextdoor to Fat Mam's for a 'quiet drink.' I think we were there for a few hours. All I know is that once we made it back to the BC, it was nearing 5 am. I'm not sure how this happened.






Bday girl












Um, yeah, I'm apparently eating Michael's head














Johnny. Kick-boxer. Brazilian. Very.




On Monday, which was a holiday for Jeff but not the kids, Jeff & I went to Shin-Yokohama, to the Ramen Museum. Yeah, you read right. It's entirely devoted to ramen, it's history, it's manufacture, and it's consumption. This is an old commercial:



These are examples of how ramen is made and some of the different kinds:


























As we went down the stairs to the 'amusement park' portion of the museum (a recreation of a 1950's urban setting and it's many ramen shops), we saw this clock. I suppose it's meant to confuse you as to what time it really is as you step back a few decades. I think having it run backwards might have been more appropriate, but what do I know.



Some scenes of 'the street,' eternally caught in a 1950's twilight:


































































































Some benches were set up in the 'square,' and we figured something was going on, so we sat down to watch. This guy came out with a box-contraption with handpainted slides, and started a presentation of riddles. Can you guess what book this is? was what we sussed out. Naturally, it was all conducted in Japanese, so we didn't have much hope of getting the candy prize for a right answer. Until a book with a picture of 4 shrimp on it was slid into view. The word for shrimp is ebi. Jeff shouted out "ABC's!" And guess what? He was right. What do you know. He got 3 pieces of candy for being the game gaijin.

Then the guy told a story with some slides. I guess this was sort of like going to see a puppet show in 1950's Yokohama.



We watched enough of the story to figure out that we couldn't follow it at all, and past this point, to be polite. Eventually, tho, the real reason for going to the Ramen Museum in the first place was calling us: Eating Ramen. We picked one of the 6 or so restaurants representing different regions of Japanese Ramen Cuisine, and we were not disappointed.












We stopped into the old five & dime store (or whatever the yen equivalent is) for some old-fashioned candies for the kids. Couldn't go home empty-handed, could we? We got them this gum that turns your tongue colors. Very effective and quite popular with the kids. They want to hurry to the ramen museum themsleves, so they can get more.

































M was looking pretty goth after his shower and his lip- and tongue-staining gum, so Jeff had to take a picture. Very Robert Smith. Tell me this face isn't going to break hearts someday.

Weight Watcher's Recipe Cards 1977

http://www.candyboots.com/wwcards.html

This too goddamned funny. I'm serious. Here's a sample. The captions are the best.

Um, I guess this is a salad best enjoyed at the house of that one scary lady down the street who never leaves the house and talks to her knicknacks.

I showed this card to a friend who said, "What the hell's in that bowl-- bong water?!"

Is that why the ceramic animals are so drawn to it? Is it their magical pond?

Why have they gathered? What do they want?

False Advertising and Another Zoo

I don't know about you, but I love thrift stores, flea markets, bazaars, second-hand shops, re-sale, used, recycled, whatever you call it, it's cheap treasure: what's not to love? I haven't quite figured out what the deal is with the Japanese and used stuff. They build disposable houses: a house 15 years old is OLD and needs to be torn down. We got some really cool antique kimono drawers/dressers at a recycle shop for almost nothing (they are neither in great shape nor gorgeous, but they still would've cost 4 times as much in Seattle). I got one of the schoolbags that all kids carry throughout their grade school careers (they are SO COOL) for 500 yen and they are normally 20,000. I couldn't believe it was true. I'd been told that the Japanese are in to shiny new stuff. Used, old, bleh, they don't want it. And yet. I've been to a vintage shop that charges what I call outrageous prices for used flannels and jeans. I guess it's because they're 'imported.' Whatever.

Last Saturday was the worst, though. We were all excited to go to the Largest Resale Show in Japan or whatever hyperbolic description was given on a website about events in Yokohama. We almost rented a van in case we found some cool old furniture (we are still looking for a coffee table and a china cabinet-type thing). It took us about 2 minutes after we had paid the entrance fee to realize that it was completely not what we were expecting.

Purses. And furs. And more purses and furs. Some sparkly jewelry. Ick. And the 'resale' prices? I saw a fur for what translates to $38,000. What is it with the obsession with purses? This is not an Asian phenomenon. American women are terrible about it, too, at least that's what the movies and TV tell me.

False advertising!!! It was a Purse and Fur Resale Show and they should've said so.

Desperate to salvage this fiasco, I eagerly dove at a box of jewelry marked 100 yen. I dug around in there and found some fun stuff. I was even getting excited. I dropped my pile of about 8 items on the counter and watched as the guy began to ring them up. I watched the numbers shoot way past 800 yen, so I voiced my bewilderment with the most useful of Japanese words: sumimasen? I pointed at the "100 yen" on the box. Turns out it meant "and up." Again, false advertising. I walked away from that counter with nothing. Bastards.

In the end, it was OK, tho, because there was a tiny corner that had neat, cheap stuff, including 'lucky bags.' These are mystery bags full of fun stuff that a lot of stores have for the New Year. M got one that wasn't a mystery (there was display), full of all sorts of crystals and cool rocks, for a good price. A guy gave D, who said he was thirsty, a beverage. Nice of him, but it was Sparkling Coffee. Who give a can of coffee to a 7 yr old? Also, it was completely undrinkable. Bad invention.


















After we left that almost complete waste of time, we had a lovely late lunch at a Malaysian restaurant. Very cool decor, OK food. M and D tried eating the flower that came in their drinks (I was surpsrised when M asked the server if it was edible). Their tastebuds were not impressed, so I finished them. I just really like the idea of eating flowers.





























We also went to the Pokemon Center, which as a big, all-Pokemon store in the Landmark Tower. The kids were in raptures, of course. Pokemon is seriously genius. Not the show or the cards, but the marketing potential. Hundreds of characters to put on everything and make toys, games, and cards of, and new ones come out all the time. Serious kiddie crack.















We also found a vending machine selling cute poo in several bright colors. As we saw in a previous post, the Japanese can make anything cute.















Sunday was much more fun. We met Helen, Ian, and his son Malcolm at Zoorasia. Kind of invloved to get there, but it was nice, if windy (really windy and cold in some of the more open spots).

Anteater!













Ass! Helen and I had a discussion about how the British make a distinction between the animal and the posterior. The latter is 'arse.'















Ian and Malcolm with, not an ass, a horse.

















Red Panda. Cute, but alas, sleeping.















The boar! My animal!

















If you throw money to the fake alligator, he won't eat you.
















Ocelot. So cute. I once knew a guy who's family had one as a pet when he was a kid. Lucky bastard.















Kangaroo.














Also a kangaroo. I never before stopped to consider what weirdly-built animals they really are.














Okapi: Zoorasia's 'signature animal.'Which means they sell a lot of stuffed okapi toys in the gift shop













M & D riding a fake okapi.



















Porcupine. Note the creepy white eyes.















Neat playground so the kids could spaz out for a minute while the adults froze in the freezing gusts of wind from which there was no shelter.












No, this is not a mystical mountain man.
















It is the butt of one of these:



















Monkey love!
















Helen color-coordinated not only with herself, but also the fake peacock:



















Malcolm was pretty shy. Except when he was hitting Jeff.
















The family being eaten by a fake snake.



















My boys. So cute.




















After the zoo, we decided, since we were sort of in the neighborhood, to go to IKEA.

Helen was adopted by M & D. She is now their sister.















IKEA (pronounced 'ee-kee-ya' here) is pretty much the same as in the US, except there are 3 times the people (and I thought it stiflingly crowded in Seattle) and everything's in yen.




























And they have cheap beer in the cafeteria

















And they have a shuttle bus that takes you to and from the not-so-nearby train station.
















Helen mentioned she was going to the Blue Corn, and as I hadn't gone out over the weekend, I decided to go with her. A mellow night, as spending an entire day with children had pretty much worn Helen out. But we had fun with the tiger that she bought at IKEA.





















































The kids went back to school on Tuesday (YIPEE), and I celebrated by taking myself shoe-shopping at Yokohama station. I did not find shoes, but I did find one of the most fascinating toilet stalls in one of the depaatos. I couldn't believe all the gadgets they had in there! In addition to the usual heated seats with bidet and TP dispenser, there was a 'flushing sound' device, a toilet seat cleaner, a mystery button, a murphy-bed changing table, and a toddler seat. All they needed was a TV in there, and maybe a mini-bar. I wish I could've gotten a wide shot of the whole shebang. Consider this your 'random photo of the week.' Even though it's 2.






































Life should be going back to 'normal' now that the holidays are over, there are no guests for a month or so, and the kids are back at school. Gotta get back to the painting and the learning.

A sense of humor is essential to live here

Holy shit, what an ordeal.

Just when I had the rent-paying thing down, had the sequence of buttons on the ATM memorized, there appears a new Japanese law: No money transfers above 100,000 yen can be conducted at ATMs. Transactions over this amount must be transacted at the counter, with proper ID checking, to prevent money-laundering and terrorist funding, due to pressure from the international community. I'm willing to bet that it's the USA that has made my life more difficult in Japan.

It took me about 10 minutes to figure this out, after I saw the guy standing in the ATM lobby greeting people and holding some sort of flyer. There were also signs. Naturally, tho, I cannot read them, so I tried my rote-method at the ATM three times to no avail before I asked the guy why it wasn't working (or tried to, anyway). I eventually got the gist of what he was telling me and went to the counter inside.

I plunked down my huge wad of cash and my passbook to the smiling teller, and she nodded understanding and slid me a form.

Naturally, I had no idea what to do with said form, and she smilingly waved me over to the customer service counter. A smiling man came over to help me. He somehow asked me for ID, and I gave him the military ID that I always use. After another 10 minutes of explanations in Japanese, with his handy laminated visual aid of different kinds of acceptable forms of identification like driver's licenses and alien registration cards, we finally came around to the conclusion that my military ID wasn't going to do it and I would need my passport. Which I never have on me. So, I said I'd be back.

I gathered the children from their freezing vigil outside and went back to the house and unearthed my passport. I speed-walked back to the bank, sending the kids off to the game store so they would be more happily occupied.

I walked in, took a number, and when it came up moments later, I plunked down my cash, my passbook, and now my passport. The smiling teller again waved me over to the customer service desk where the smiling man came over to help me. He nodded at my passport and began to fill out my form, since I had indicated that I couldn't do it myself. After peering at my passport, he began to look apologetic. "Nihongo addresso?" Oh, no. Yes, I am identified properly, but there is no proof of my address in Japan on my passport or my ID. Fuck. So I tried many words to get at what would be acceptable. Bill? Receipto? Utility? Tokyo Gas? The last one got a nod of understanding. So, hopefully, what that meant was that I could bring in a utility bill as proof of address. But that would have to wait til tomorrow, because I (and the kids) just couldn't take another race back and forth from my house and more possible frustration. So I said ashita (tomorrow) and walked out dejected to his sumimasen (excuse me, sorry).

So, this morning, I got out the door with exactly one hour to spare before the beginning of the window for the kids' new bunkbeds to be delivered (11 am - 2pm). I couldn't risk going to the bank after the delivery, because the bank might be closed by then. Race-walked to the bank with the forms, the passport, 3 different utility bills, and the cash. After I took my number, the same (very patient) man sat down with me and I showed him my stuff. He verified that the address was the same on all 3 bills, made copies of them and my passport, and began to fill out the transaction form (after trying to get me to do it. Kanji? Nai. Katakana? he tried hopefully. No, I don't even know that. Looooser). Then he noticed that the names on the bills didn't exaclty match the one on my passport. Because they are in Jeff's name. FUCK. He showed me a printout, with translation, that he had obviously prepared for today's visit. Mostly it said what I had already figured out (the no transactions over 100,000 yen at the ATM, but also the new info about why), but it also said 'bring your alien registration card.' That damn thing again. We don't have one, having a SOFA (Status Of Forces Agreement) letter and military IDs. I said 'husband' and pointed at the bills. He understood 'husband' but looked confused at what to do. He muttered 'husband' a few times and consulted his documents. Hmmm...'husband passporto?' Oh, no, does that mean I have to make yet another round-trip? Arrrgh. I showed him, in desperation, my husband's name on my military ID. Ping-pong! He seemed happy with that and made a copy of my military ID.

Finally, the moment I had been dreaming of. He took my wad of cash. He counted it once by flicking though it bill-by-bill (there were a lot of them). Then he did some prestidigitation and fanned out the bills and counted them in groups of four. Then he tap-stacked them back together and repeated the process. Then he went away with the stack. I never thought I'd be so happy to see money disappear!

He came back and gave me my receipt, the carbon of the form I could not fill out. He pantomimed to me that next time I would need to bring a copy, front and back and picture-page, of my husband's passport and ID. By that point, I was so relieved that I nearly hugged the man, but instead I bowed and said arigato gozaimasu. sumimasen and practically skipped out the door (after grabbing a huge stack of transaction forms I'm hoping to bribe someone into preparing for me). I sped off and made it home at exactly 10:59. Of course, I'm still waiting for the delivery guys to show.

I hope that anyone under a SOFA letter comes across this entry before they attempt a similar adventure at the bank, and that it helps them.

This experience really drove home the main difficulty I am having here. Being illiterate is humiliating, and I feel for any adult who can't read and write. Add this handicap, which in a native language is more easily remedied, to an almost non-existant grasp on the spoken language, and you have a recipe for serious frustration. I feel like a fu**ing idiot so much of the time. I've got to learn more of this language and get out of my bubble of isolation.

Some haiku for the mood:

Linguistic Seppuku

Like drooling toddler
I cannot communicate
When I cannot speak

Illiteracy
Paying rent in Japan is
Humiliation

I love your cuisine
But I cannot order food
In your restaurants

You apologize
For not knowing English words
When it's your country

We can't get below
the surface of the weather
and I hate chit-chat

Maybe I will learn
By the time I go back home
Enough to get by

Akimashite Omedeto Gozaimasu!

That means Happy New Year. We did it Japanese style, and Davis-style.

This is a decoration that one hangs on one's door to protect your house as the year turns over. I think we get to burn it on the 6th or 7th.















New Year's Eve here is not like other NYE celebrations, not surprisingly. Here is a description from japan-guide.com, if you want it: http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2064.html

We, being Americans, wanted to see the Countdown and fireworks, so we left our house after a quick Fuji meal, around 9:30 PM, and headed into Yokohama proper. The trains run all night on New Year's Eve, when normally they would stop before midnightish.








Grocery-store NYE dinner













The train's temporary schedule






We walked around the area, there were some people milling around. It was cold.








36 kinds of American Muffin













Engrish
























Cool ship, with CosmoClock in the background













It says Happy New Year, but I couldn't get a wide enough angle

















Pretty blue tree lights















D was appeased with some caramel corn








We headed for Oosanbashi Pier, where we would have a good view of the CosmoClock (giant ferris wheel) and hopefully some fireworks.















The kids were super crabby by now, because it was really cold and we'd been walking around for an hour.















The Moment was rather anti-climactic, honestly. One guy, ONE, picked up the countdown at 4, and he and Jeff did 'yon, san, ni, ichi' together, rather quietly. There was a nearly whispered Happy New Year and some boat horns went off. The fireworks were on the other side of the CosmoClock, in CosmoWorld, so it really just looked like someone was blowing up the ferris wheel. It's also pretty impossible to get a decent shot of a night scene without a tripod, so this is as good as I could get.















By this time, tho, Jeff and I had polished off a bottle of shochu that Jeff had thought was sake when he bought it, so we didn't care. Then we popped open the champagne and drank that. The kids seemed to cheer up almost instantly after midnight struck, so we counted that as a good omen for the new year. We walked back through the underside of the pier, where it was heated (had we only considered this before!). Some chick was singing before a really sedate crowd, and there was a cool model of a ship.





























On the other side, we took turns racing up the walls that beg to be a skatepark, and then noticed a bunch of other people had started doing it, too. One guy really bit it on the way down, and totally face-planted. He was OK, so it was hilarious. The champagne helped.

Walking back to the train, I spotted a festively-dressed cat giving some new year love to pedestrians. The train was failry crowded, but not too bad.

D and his new DS

When we got off at Myorenji, we had enough high-spirits to walk home rather than try to find a taxi. The champagne helped here, too. The kids passed out almost as soon as their heads hit the pillows, which is not surprising, considering it was almost 2am.

On New Year's Day, we all slept in and did pretty much nothing all day, which is exaclty what you're supposed to do on New Year's Day. We did eat some soba noodles, which you do because the long noodles symbolize long life, good luck, etc.

Macky picked us up on the 2nd to take us to Yasakuni Shrine for the New Year's good luck visit. Yasakuni (literally "peaceful nation shrine") is a Shinto shrine located in Tokyo, Japan, dedicated to the spirits of soldiers and others who died fighting on behalf of the Japanese emperor. There is come controversy associated with this shrine, apparently. See here for more info on that.

Macky gave the boys otoshidama, traditional gifts of money for kids.

Some sort of 'right-wing' propaganda that Macky apparently objects to

Shrine entrance

It was super-crowded, as expected, with many booths selling food and the usual festival trinkets.

Traditional Happy New Year sake toast by Macky

Sake vendors

Wall o sake

Honey treats of some kind

Hot dogs that were required to get to the cotton candy

Fish-on-a-stick from pure river water.

Dudes eating in the chicken tent

Traditional New Year's decoration. Pretty.

Giant bags of Pokemon cotton candy

D really likes his cotton candy

You can eat it with chopsticks, apparently

Weird drink that the kids love. You open it by popping a marble down into the bottle, which makes it fizz, I guess. Tastes like cream soda.

Critters made of gingko nuts

Stuffed animal pelts?

Stuffed animals heads? Poor things.

Hot pepper seasoning in cool bottles

Me and some good-luck creature. I gave his handler/cohort some yen and had my picture taken.

What's a holiday festival without a performing monkey?

Family shot

The torii

The real reason for visiting the shrine. You throw some yen into a collection box (due to the crowd, there was a huge net because people were throwing their yen from way back, over the heads in front of them), bow twice, clap twice to get the gods' attention, and make your prayer/wish for the new year. The guard is there to keep anyone from entering the shrine itself, but apparently you can buy your way in closer with a sizable donation.

There was a WWII memorial museum on the temple grounds.

Brotherly love in action: D shooting M's head off with a WWII cannon

Statue of a kamikaze pilot. Many brave suicide bombers died for their emperor. Not sure how I feel about it, other than sad.

Happy New Year from the Howitzer

Train.

Zero fighter plane

On a prettier note, there was also an exhibit of ikebana, the traditional art of flower-arranging.

A couple of my favorites:

Girl in a kimono

My favorite subject: Old vs New Japan

2007 is the Year of the Boar. This is MY sign, so should be an auspicious year for me. I bought a mini version of this guy to hang on my wall. I could've written a wish in it and left it at the temple for granting, but I wanted to keep it.

Wall o' Boars. Each shrine in Japan has it's own version, and they are all represented here.

D won an airgun in a game. I am not so thrilled. The BBs have been confiscated.

Amazaki: hot, thick, sweet sake, traditional for New Year's. Comforting on a chilly day.

Final family shot, with Macky

Macky and Jeff

Treats shaped like pigeon eggs.

Bigger egg-shaped treats. We bought these to take to Toru's for dessert

More treats

After our visit to the shrine, we went to Toru/Motoko/Kyotoro's house for a New Year's meal.

Cool shot of the Tokyo Tower on the way. It is meant to resemble The Eiffel Tower.

Toru and family prepared a wonderful meal, and we were priviledged to be invited. All kinds of traditional New Year's foods and lots of sake, wine, and shochu. I need to start a crusade to get the Japanese to stop chilling their red wine, but it was good anyway.

Buzz Buzz Wine. Cotes du Rhone.

Motoko.

The feast

Toru is The Sake Master.

The sake selection. We worked our way through quite a lot of it.

Obviously.

Yummy soup. Pork?

New Year's mochi, rice cakes.

Giant shrimp, just for me and Jeff.

Egg cake. Pretty tasty, much more than expected.

Stand By Your Man. Or recline, whatever. Macky needed a nap.

D with a realistic gun model, complete with model bullets. Scary.

Me with the gun. Also scary.

Toru with the gun.

M and Kyotoro having a sword fight. I, after much sake, ill-advisedly had a sword fight with M. He whacked me next to my eye, raising a lump. Maybe I'll have a scar to match the one on the other side from when D threw a rock at my head.

The kids were having such fun that Toru offered to keep them overnight. He sent me these pictures from the park the next day:

Thanks to Macky, Tai-chan, Toru, Motoko, Kyotoro, and my family for a memorable New Year's. I think 2007 is going to be great. I hope the same for all of you! Happy New Year!