The Blog From Another Dimension: Focus on Japan 2003 Archives

Christmas in Nagoya

A 26-year-old Gifu man who made more than half a million dollars playing the stock market earlier this month went to the observation deck of Nagoya TV Tower and threw a million yen's worth (about $10,000) of paper money to the street below late Tuesday afternoon. The money was in one-dollar U.S. currency and old 100-yen bills. The 100 yen bills have been out of circulation for decades and is no longer legal tender; the man apparently bought them off the Internet.

"I have too much money. I don't need it," the man said. "I wanted to give some back to the world." The gesture of generosity was not against the law, but police did take him in for questioning. He was able to throw most of the money through the metal grates on the tower, but left a good amount on the observation deck floor as well. About $1,000 was returned by passers-by, and the police gave it back to the man.

Mad About Cows

Well, the first mad cow disease case has been reported in the U.S., and Japan, within hours, slammed the doors and immediately instituted an effective ban of U.S. beef imports--not a small deal as Japan is America's biggest importer "by value"--meaning that expensive beef products are more often imported. Most of that is likely for restaurants, because U.S. beef is for darned sure not prominently featured in Japanese supermarkets.

The supermarkets I have shopped at over the years feature Japanese beef, with Aussie beef coming in second. American beef, when it shows up, is usually a lower-grade and therefore no threat to domestic beef. This echoes the rice market, which, when forced to import rice several years ago due to a poor domestic crop, made certain that almost every bag of cheap, high-quality American rice sold in the country was mixed with a low-quality Thai rice (with some Thai commentators reporting that it was animal-feed quality), a long-grained version very much disliked in Japan--needless to say, Japanese consumers didn't like it.

The closure of such imports is likely to last for a while, and may very well be as much motivated by protectionism as by health; a single case of mad cow disease was found in Canada in May, and though the U.S. has started lifting imports, Japan is keeping its market shut tight--even to the point of threatening reprisals against countries who do not provide guarantees that Canadian beef isn't coming through them.

The problem with Japan's attitude is that it is hardly one to throw stones: Japan has had nine cases of the disease in a bit more than two years, and not all at once, and has handled its own house very sloppily. The first case was on September 10, 2001 (the day before the 9/11 attacks). The most recent cases have been in the past few months. Furthermore, Japan's handling of the disease outbreak has been dismal. European experts hired by the Japanese government in 1998 warned Japan that its beef industry regulations were insufficient before the first case was reported; the government not only ignored the warning, but it also quashed the publication of the warning.

When the first outbreak did occur, not only did the Japanese government fail to adequately warn people about the dangers, not only did they refuse to ban MBM (meat and bone meal) feed that is a likely cause of the disease until fully a month later, but--get this--they actually allowed the diseased cow to be sent to a plant to be converted into MBM!

When I heard that, I decided I would not eat any more domestic beef in Japan--a decision well-founded, it seems, from Japan's unsurprisingly consistently botched handling and continuing outbreaks of the disease. Since U.S. beef in supermarkets is rare and not very good, I usually get Aussie stuff (McDonald's in Japan also uses Aussie beef).

So it is a bit much for Japan to be so drastic with other countries when a single case is reported--especially since the U.S. has not used MBM produced from cow offal in feeding cattle for some time. I would expect the ban to be continued for quite some time, no matter what the determination in the case.

Another Graduation

Well, we do have two of them every year. This was what kept me busy yesterday (today it was grading, and I just finished). This ceremony was a very good one. As of the past few years, we've moved up and into the Century Hyatt for our ceremonies; we used to do it in local hotels (the first I presided over myself had all of two graduates!), but our graduating classes have grown to a size that cannot be hosted by the other hotels. And the Hyatt is a classy place.

Machiko Wada, one of our senior students, and one of our very best at that, gave the valedictorian address, and moved everyone to tears; many of the students, both young women and me, were openly crying, and I definitely heard a lot of sniffling behind me.

Afterwards, we moved up to the 27th floor and a very nice new room for the Graduation/Christmas party. For me, as kind of an unofficial photographer (as always), it was great because the light was perfect for taking photos--I got nearly 200 of them, so maybe a few dozen are good enough to print. Here are a few.

Machiko giving her address.

Many of the students wore traditional outfits, including these students' kimonos.

As always at the Hyatt, the food was first-rate.

Then came the perennial Bingo game. Machiko's lovely grandchildren were rapt players.

A graduating student, accompanied by a parent and a former graduate.

Yoshi, one of our hardworking office staff.

And Masako, who made my job so much easier when I was coordinator, winning first prize in Bingo: two passports for Tokyo Disneyland. It would be hard to think of someone who deserves them more--and she has two daughters who'd love to go, too.

NTT Doesn't Make It Easy

As part of trying to make my Internet connection better, I am trying to switch to another DSL provider.

My ISP has been AT&T, and they have been very good--they have been my ISP since I was on a dial-up connection back in '98. Up until now, I have used NTT Flets for the DSL connection, primarily because they were first into my area (I live in a relatively unknown town next to Tama), and I wanted to get away from ISDN as quickly as I could. But that also caused a problem.

NTT has always, or at least is seems, managed to jigger the setting up of systems so as to benefit themselves most, taking advantage of their position of advantage as the primary telephone company. When the new "MYLINE" service was set up, it was billed as a way of making things simpler--but to me, it seemed like it just made things more complex, and if one did not go through the process, NTT would collect you up as their customer by default. I am not certain of that, but that was my impression.

It is certainly my impression as far as DSL services are concerned. I have wanted to change DSL providers for some time, for several reasons. First, Flets does not provide some services as part of their overall package, such as IP Telephony. Also, I currently pay two fees, one to NTT, and one to AT&T; it would be substantially cheaper for me to consolidate those services and pay one company one fee.

So some time ago, almost one year before now, I started asking--and learned a disturbing fact. I could not switch DSL providers without having three weeks or more of interrupted service. The way NTT has set things up, I have to first end my service with them--and only after the service has ended may I apply for the new service (I have chosen KDDi for their English-language services). And it takes around three weeks, possibly a bit more, possibly a bit less, for the new service to be established.

The only logical reason for this gap is to assure that two companies do not provide DSL service at the same time. Even assuming that this is absolutely necessary, three weeks is an absurd length of time to require between services; most people would not wish to be relegated to dial-up service for the interval, and so would stay with NTT, which always has enjoyed the advantage of getting all the early adopters. Which, I presume, is NTT's intention.

I personally know someone who simply misled the providers, telling the new one that the prior DSL connection had been terminated when it had not been--and that person enjoyed only a day or two of broken service between them. So it is clearly possible, and the three weeks clearly not necessary. I wanted to follow this friend's example, but KDDi made it clear that they would have to actively check to see that the prior service had ended.

As it happens, I will be going back to the U.S. for almost three weeks this month, so that provides me with just the break I need. Still, I may have trouble getting reconnected when I come back--late on December 30th--with the holidays so close. But the service people at KDDi have been very good, the rep I spoke to spent a couple hours today helping me plan a way to set things up so there was the greatest chance of things running smoothly; he really went out of his way to help, which made me feel even better about going with that company--how a firm treats its clients has always been a big consideration for me in choosing whom to do business with.

So, with luck, I will not be cut off from high-speed service for long.

I should note here that DSL is improving here in Japan yet again: the old system of 1.5 Mbps, 8 Mbps and 12 Mbps that so far outstripped services in the U.S. is already outdated here. KDDi had even stopped giving their 24 Mbps service because now they have something faster. They offer two speeds: 26 Mbps, and 40 Mbps. Rather impressive speeds. I chose the 26 Mbps package for two reasons: first, as I live about 3 km (2 miles) from the telephone switching station, all speeds come out to about the same for me, just a few megabits per second. But more importantly, the 26 Mbps package provides a fixed IP Address (rather than a global one), making it easier for me to improve my chances at achieving easy voice chat with others. Both speeds have a total cost of about $35 per month, including DSL, ISP and modem/router rental.

Still waiting for vDSL so I can get higher speeds, but for the time being, this will do. Just hope it goes smoothly, and NTT doesn't find a way to muck things up....

Japan Christmas Past

Speaking of Christmas in Japan, I recalled this photo taken many years ago--1989, if I am not mistaken--of my workaround for the Christmas Tree problem. Since full-sized trees are so expensive, and I am not too fond of fake ones, I compromised and got a bonsai. It was affordable because it was already on its way out, not having been well-maintained at the garden shop I bought it from. But it made a quite nice tree, matching my apartment at the time in size, no less. I even made a popcorn-and-cranberry wrap for it, though I do not clearly recall what I used for cranberries, as they aren't sold here in Japan, at least not that I was able to find.

Anyway, I thought this made a very charming compromise between Japan and America during the holidays.

Come to think of it, it was '89--that's a trans-bay world series cap I got as a gift, sitting under the tree (next to it, really), and the Loma Prieta of '89 interrupted the series.

Christmas in Japan

Well, it is exactly a month before Christmas, and I've noticed people putting up their Christmas decorations recently; scattered apartments and houses around Tokyo putting up lights, stores with the usual displays, playing Christmas carols for store music. Even though Japan is predominantly Shinto and Buddhist, with Christians forming a minority 1% or so, Christmas is nonetheless a middlin'-to-big thing over here, for much the same reason it is in the U.S.: commercialism. But with a Japanese twist.

The traditions in Japan are different, however; first of all, almost nobody has an actual Christmas tree. Trees in Japan are way too expensive, and there are no Douglas Fir farms in the hills that I know about. If anyone has a Christmas tree in Japan, it will be made of metal and plastic, readily stowed away in a closet from January, waiting for the next holiday season. And, to the best of my knowledge, even if a Japanese family has a tree, presents don't get put under it; it is simply a decoration. No cranberry-and-popcorn strings, either (I always loved making those with the family), rather just some ordinary store-bought garnishes. I've never seen tinsel here.

Presents are exchanged, though Christmas is not exactly the reason: it is bonus season. In Japanese employment, one's meager salary is usually bolstered by bonuses, traditionally given out twice a year--once in summer, once in winter. The summer bonus marks the Chugen season, the winter one is called Seibo. Each one is marked by a special gift section created in stores across the country, sometimes taking up as much as half of a floor of a department store. In such gift areas you'll find a plethora of items, popular ones including small rolled hams, and a wide variety of product packs--a 20-piece soap package, a 15-can beer package, packages with assortments of cookies, coffees, salad oils, fruit juices, canned seafood, and countless other consumer items. One buys gifts here and either gives them or has them delivered to the recipients. The Seibo gift centers are already open for business.

Next is a tradition also made in Japan: Christmas Cake. Don't ask me why, probably a confectioner thought it up, just like they thought up White Day for bakers (White Day comes a month after Valentine's Day--Valentine's is for chocolate, which women give to men; White Day is for men to give cookies or other treats to women, and is supposed to have been created simply as a way to sell sweets). At Christmas time, people who choose to celebrate have a Christmas Cake. It even became a metaphor in the 80's--women who had not married by age 26 were rather callously called "Christmas Cake," meaning that nobody wants to buy the old cakes after the 25th of December. That attitude has changed, by the way, and most young people today have never even heard of the expression.

And for some reason, Chicken is the meal of choice. Turkey just isn't popular here, I suppose, and ham isn't exactly the same, either. I found out early on that if you want KFC on the 24th of December, you'd better make a reservation (yes, you heard me) if you don't want to wait two hours for your order to be filled, or better, just go another day. KFC is swamped on Christmas Eve. Good thing I always vacation in the U.S. every Christmas (coming back to Japan before New Year's--I like that holiday here). Not that I eat at KFC anymore--they usually refuse to let you choose which pieces you're going to get.

One other Christmas tradition in Japan: romantic evenings at a romantic restaurant, followed by a visit to a love hotel (or perhaps any nice hotel would do). Again, I don't really know why, but having a date on Christmas Day is considered a must for young couples. This article refers to a love hotel in Kanagawa which has permanent Christmas decorations in order to attract visitors. Some say there is an urban legend that if you confess your love to your special someone on Christmas Eve, your wish will come true.

But to many in Japan, Christmas is simply a secular affair, if an affair at all. Some make something of it, others do not. Here is an interesting sampling of responses in a kind of "man-on-the-street" survey in Tokyo. And here is an interesting article from the Japan Times last year about Christmas in Japan, including some history behind it.

Rain Geta

Spotted these on the platform while waiting for the train--rain geta. Geta are the traditional Japanese clog shoes, basic wooden platforms atop two wood blocks, with a thong on top. This is the first time I recall seeing a pair covered in clear plastic for rainy weather. They were worn by an elderly lady in a classic dark-tone kimono. An interesting modern touch on a traditional costume.

Arts Festival

Well, the school had its Arts Festival yesterday, and it was amazing to see the talent so many of our students have. Not just your usual skits at the talent show--we have some serious composers, musicians, singers... One student, for example, played original piano compositions that were astounding. I was in back when another started singing "The Heart Must Go On," and I swore that I was listening to a recording of Celine Dion. Paintings by some of the students I honestly mistook for art that the live house had purchased, and there was a fantastic brass section that performed "In the Mood." Seven students made up a punk rock band, playing a popular Japanese song called "Train, Train" that had many of the students in the audience acting like groupies at a concert. And one of my former students, who I knew was talented, surprised me in showing an array of talents I never expected, from keyboard artist to trumpeter to half a dozen other talents.

Even a few teachers took the stage, including one that recited comic poetry and sang a great a cappella piece, and another who played solo electric guitar and composed a hilarious blues piece based on his classes. And my own contribution--a 17-minute video I edited from footage some students and I shot--went over very well, starting off the show.

Find below some photos of a few of the acts with the audience.

That's The Ticket

In the United States, speed traps are usually cops on motorcycles or in patrol cars, hiding around a corner or behind bushes or other cover--usually a one-man operation. In Japan, they work in teams. I was able to observe one in action today, not too far from a station I use.

Here's how it works: one cop, in this case, shown in the photo at top, finds a spot--usually behind signposts and/or telephone poles--and sets up shop. The radar detector goes out front, and the policeman, working with the control gear out of a metal suitcase, hides crouching on a chair behind his cover. He is in radio contact with a team of fellow officers about two blocks away. The team is located strategically so that a speeder cannot turn off somewhere or otherwise get by. A motorcycle cop stands ready to pursue anyone who tries to get away.

The cop in the chair detects someone going too fast. His gear displays the speed, and it radios the signal to the first guy's counterpart (see bottom photo, guy sitting on a similar chair). The team gets a warning shout over radio from the guy up front, telling them that a speeder has just passed by. The team dispatches a pair of policemen--one regular cop, and one motorcycle cop--into the street to flag down the driver, and pull them into a nearby parking area (I caught the tail end of this in the photo at middle right). The driver is then taken to a folding table with chairs set up where seated officers get their information, give them a lecture, and write out the citations.

In the times I have seen this setup, I have noted that it is never in a place where speeding might be a problem. I know of many streets--a few right in front of police stations, no less--where the hazards are great: speeding cars, blind corners, pedestrians crossing at all places, the works--and there is never a speed trap or even an officer on patrol. In the places where they could do the most good. Instead, the traps are set up on long, wide straightaways with absurdly low speed limits. The street pictured here is a wide (for Japan) two-lane boulevard with little foot traffic (it's an industrial area). I walked its length and maybe saw one or two pedestrians in total. Very little cross traffic. In other words, probably the place one would least have to worry about accidents happening.

And the speed limit is 40 kph, or 25 mph. This kind of street would be at least a 45 mph (70 kph) zone in the U.S. For the type of street it is, the speed limit is ridiculous. And so, naturally, everyone speeds. I believe that this is called "shooting fish in a barrel."

The few other times I have witnessed speed traps in Japan, they have always been like this. Not for safety, not for public service. But for the sole purpose of writing out tickets. If this were a sometimes thing, like in the U.S., it wouldn't be so bad. But from what I have witnessed, traffic cops never give out tickets for the purpose of safety. Just for revenue. And that's completely wrong. These police should be at the dangerous locations, making the streets safer. I covered this in a previous entry, "Seasonal Fair-Weather Daylight Enforcers," though I did not have artwork on the speed traps at the time. But the criticism still stands. It is almost emblematic of Japanese police, traffic or otherwise, to make more of a show than to actually keep the peace. They can do much better than this.

Crime and Foreigners in Japan

Life in Japan as a foreign resident is much better today than it was back in the 80's. The creature comforts, imported goods and so forth are better, as I have commented on before. But more than that, in the 80's there was a notable racial component to things as well; foreigners were sometimes seen as a source of crime and disease; police often stopped foreigners for no immediate reason other than that they were foreign. That happened to me many times, usually riding my bicycle; the police would accuse you of having stolen it. In those days, with so much antipathy focused on foreigners, the bad news accentuated and the good news muted, you were sensitive to such things. I recall one day I was stopped near Musashi-Sakai Station for "bicycling while foreign," and was actually surrounded by four or five cops. I remember seeing passers-by shooting glances at me, and guessed what they were thinking, that this scene confirmed the fears stoked by newspaper bias and politicians' speeches shouted from the tops of loudspeaker trucks.

This happens a lot less today.

There are, however, some remainders from that time, and this week a few of them have popped up. One of them was an editorial from the Japan Times that was very reminiscent of the 80's; in fact, it could be an exact clone of an editorial from that time. It comments on high crime rates of foreigners in Japan, but like so many similar reports in past years, it exaggerates quite a bit. It mentions high numbers of crimes, but it does not mention crime rates; and if one calculates the crime rates, one finds what has always been true: crime rates of non-Japanese in Japan have always been lower than that of the native population.

Another facet of the problem has been how the Japanese media gives weight to some stories and less so to others. I commented on the story of Yoshi Hattori, the young boy who was shot to death in the U.S., and how this was amazingly over-reported in Japan, the story dragging on for much longer than a year, while a story about an elderly Japanese woman shot in Japan was virtually ignored despite the unusual nature of the shooting.

Yesterday, a similar example of bias appeared in the news when an American sailor was shot on the streets of Hiroshima. Initial reports here in Japan not only failed to identify the assailant as Japanese, but omitted certain details--his basic description, along with the language he spoke, all information available from the start--details that would have suggested that he was Japanese, thus giving the impression (by local standards) that the shooter was probably another American serviceman. The story was given short thrift in the papers yesterday, and today's Yomiuri has nothing about it at all. Only subsequent on-line articles reveal that the man spoke Japanese, and still fail to identify him as a national. Foreign publications, like this Stars and Stripes issue, give a more detailed accounting. Japanese newspapers, it should be noted, seldom fail to identify a suspect as a foreigner even if it was only a suspicion of such.

One thing that is clear: if the races had been reversed, and it was an American who had shot a Japanese, there would be no other news story for this day or any other for weeks; it would make international headlines, and Japan would be rife with protest and anger.

Fall View

Had a busy day today, not much time to blog. Had the chance to visit the tower atop the local hill (the one that blocks my view of Shinjuku!), and found that not only had I picked a very nice day to climb, but that it also happened to be the last day the tower is open this year. The tower is usually closed and locked, open only on Sundays during about 4 hours in the afternoon--and even then, only for a few months. For the first few years I lived here, I didn't even think it opened at all.

But I got a good view today; below is a panorama (click it to see the larger image, about 1000 x 300 pixels). The fall colors are turning, and they're just going to get better.

Mmmmmmaahhhh.... Suuuuushiiiii.....

When I tried to find a decent, cheap sushi place in the U.S., it was very hard to do. Most places charge several dollars per plate, a lot more than the dollar-a-plate I've become used to in Japan. The best I could scrape up was a few all-you-can-eat places in San Francisco, and they were still more expensive, in the end, than the Japan dives (even if I starved myself prior), and the quality just didn't match up.

Before I came to Japan, I thought as many Americans do--that I would really hate it. Raw fish? Come on. And you know what? I still do, much of it. Sorry. Especially the maki-sushi (rolled sushi) or any other kind with seaweed. Never got used to that stuff. But there is one kind that I do like, and I like a lot: tuna. That's either in the standard form--red tuna, or maguro--or in the high end menu selection, fatty tuna, called toro.

Toro, when you get good stuff, is heavenly. Tastes like butter, almost. I get it whenever it is priced reasonably at the supermarket. It comes in slabs; I chill it while I cook rice, then as the rice cooker indicates that the rice is done, I take it out, slice it (you need a really sharp knife), and eat it as sashimi, the rice on the side. Of course, I can't afford to get what is called "oo-toro," the highest-quality toro, but "chu-toro" (literally "medium fatty tuna") is often available and I get that every few weeks.

Strangely, the toro available at the kaiten (conveyor belt) sushi joints is, almost uniformly, not very good. I've never ordered the 6-dollar-a-plate variety, but the 3- or 4-dollar varieties never have the right taste. A friend of mine who lived in Osaka once treated me to toro at a good sushi place near where he lived, and that was great--but the conveyer-belt places can't seem to get it right.

But they do the regular tuna just great, and so that's what I usually load up on when I stop by the place, every week or so on the way back from work. They know me there now, just like the folks at Akiyoshi yakitori-ya do. I'll come in, order two plates right off the bat. They combine the two into one plate, putting the four sushi together, and the two plates one on top of the other. If the first set tastes good, I'll order another four to six plates. I've come to notice, however, that they give me the best sushi first....

When you're finished, they tally up the plates you've left stacked; price per plate is determined by the color and pattern on each plate. Since maguro is the cheapest, the tab usually comes out to a bit more than 6 or 8 dollars. Not bad.

Crossing the Chuo

One of the many places I've lived in Tokyo was Koganei, for two and a half years. I lived in Higashi-Koganei, near Asia University. I used to ride my bicycle in the area quite a bit, in particular to a Home Center (a kind of store, like a cross between Home Depot and Walmart; not as big, but big for Japan) on the south side of the tracks. So I know what it's like to cross the Chuo Line--and yet, from the news I see, it is now even harder than ever before. More on that below; first, a bit of background.

Crossing the Chuo was always a chore. First of all, trains in Japan are much more widely used, so there are a lot more of them. Back home in the Bay Area, a train crosses an intersection every thirty minutes to an hour. Here in Tokyo, it's once every few minutes on the busier lines. Second, the barriers at railroad crossings in Japan go down long before they would in the U.S., sometimes almost a minute before the train comes. And if the crossing is next to a train station, just forget about it; even though the approaching train will stop at the station before it crosses the intersection, the barriers go down just as soon--so people at the intersection have to wait not only the one minute for the train to get to the station, but also the time it takes for people to get off and on the train, then for the train to start up again--and finally cross the intersection.

To make things even worse, there are times when the trains from either direction are staggered--you wait a few minutes for a train one way to get through, then just as it passes, the lights indicating a train is coming from the other direction light up. Then just as that train passes through, an express train from the first direction lights up that way again. Choose the right intersection close enough to a station, and you can get caught like that for what seems to be an endless time. My own record for that is waiting for five trains to pass, each one on the heels of the other. That's not counting the one time when there was a slowdown due to an accident, with trains lined up behind each other; the trains were so close and so slow, the barriers stayed down for more than half an hour (in the rain, of course). Finally, everyone at the intersection just got fed up, lifted the barrier and went through when it was clearly safe to do so.

But now, things are worse. JR East, the railway company that runs the line, has begun construction on an elevated line for the Chuo. The plan to get the work done involves laying extra tracks beside the original ones, thus widening the railroad crossing. This requires more warning time before each train comes, which has been causing great traffic jams. The elevated line, ironically, is intended to relieve traffic congestion caused by the difficult crossings. I guess it has to get a lot worse before it can get a lot better.

I first noticed this trouble when flipping through channels, and saw one station at a railroad crossing, showing how ridiculously wide it had become--taking even some young people more than 20 seconds to cross, impossibly long for some elderly people. I didn't note at the time where it was, but then I started seeing it on the news more and more, and so started paying attention.

The crossing most in question is the one on Koganei Boulevard (Kaido), next to the busy Musashi-Koganei Station. The crossing is usually 56 feet (17 meters) wide, but due to the construction, it has been widened to about 120 feet! that's 35.7 meters. kind of hard to believe, but you understand when you see it. It's wide. Vehicles have become trapped in there, causing crossing guards, always on duty, to signal the emergency stop for approaching trains. The same guards are constantly having to hold up the barriers for the later pedestrians to get through. Elderly people, frightened into moving faster than they should, often trip and fall.

It's worse if you're waiting to cross. As mentioned before, back-to-back train passes make for long waits, and the widening of the tracks makes them even longer. The TV show I saw tonight clocked one wait at an entire hour before the barriers came up. Drivers just give up and go elsewhere.

Pedestrians don't have that option, so Musashi-Koganei Station has started issuing special passes to people so they can enter the station, walk to the far end of the platform, use the stairs to cross the tracks, come down the length of the opposing platform, and then depart the station on the other side. At other stations, people are lucky enough to have pedestrian overpasses (still a major pain to bike riders), or even better, elevators up to the overpasses.

I'm just glad I don't live in Koganei these days... I hope they finish the elevated tracks as soon as possible--but JR East is saying that it will take six months just to install temporary devices, such as approaching train sensors so the gates don't go down so early. Lord knows when the work on the tracks will be done; years away, no doubt. The entire project, in four parts, is due to be completed in 2011.

More Things I Like About Japan

I first came to live and work in Japan since 1985. Since then, there have been a slew of improvements for foreigners looking for a touch of home. A few:

International Telephone Calls. KDD used to have the monopoly on that market, and rates used to be ludicrously high, especially calling from Japan to America. I remember that I used to have to call my parents through the international operator, calling collect. I would give the operator our family's cat's name, and tell her I was trying to reach someone with our dog's name at my parents' number. When my dad got the message that our cat was trying to make a collect call to our dog, he knew it was me saying, "call me now." He would then refuse the call and give a coded answer as to when he would get back to me, which the operator passed back to me.

Even then, we'd have to keep our conversations short, else dad would get charged $50 a pop or more. Now we use a lot cheaper services, and we may even start using Messenger's audio linkup (or iChat) soon, making the conversations completely free.

Internet Access. This really wasn't even on the radar screen in 1985, and it was depressingly poor in Japan up until just a few years ago. But then it took a quantum leap, just as America's service started to falter. Two or three years ago, I was still forced to use ISDN (max speed, less than 64 Kbps), and had to covet my folks' 300 Kbps ADSL connection in the San Francisco Bay Area when I visited them at Christmas time. Now, my dad is paying more than before for a crummy half megabit, while in Japan, DSL speed is now up to 26 Mbps for just about $30 a month, and if your building can accept the cable, 100 Mbps fiber optic can be had for about $70 a month--what my dad pays for his now-slower ADSL.

Unfortunately, I live more than 2 km from the telephone station, so my 12 Mbps ADSL is really only about 2 Mbps. But at my college, our LAN has a dedicated fiber optic connection, and man, that thing is blazing fast. The main thing limiting it is that almost no one else has a line that fast. But I have gotten download speeds as fast as a few megabytes per second from big sites, like Apple.com. Sweet.

English-Language Media, for that matter. I remember when it was hard to get any English-language books, magazines or newspapers--you had to get them through Kinokuniya for outrageous prices, else have them shipped from the states (I usually bought them on my trips back home). And on TV, all we got was the Wednesday night bilingual (like the SAP deal in the U.S.) movie, usually something stupid like Death Wish 3, and we were grateful for it. This is not one of those I-used-to-walk-ten-miles-in-the-snow stories, I really mean it, I watched that garbage, and so did most of my foreign friends, because that was about it on TV. There was the video rental place, and you can bet we used it.

Now, we have cable TV with CNN and options like Super Channel. There is Amazon.com, and Amazon.co.jp, and of course, there's the Internet for all kinds of media. A lot nicer. It does make a difference.

Cheaper and More Available Foreign Foods. First we got the Foreign Buyer's Club in Kobe, which has, for a long time, been a good place to get imported foods. They still will deliver to your door for a 1000 yen flat fee, even if you order 20 cases of Diet Caffeine-Free Coke. Where else can you get sunflower seeds in the shell? Or a ton of other stuff, for that matter.

And now, Costco is making a big entry, with four stores in Japan now (Fukuoka, Chiba, West Tokyo, and Hyogo) and growing--they say 50 stores in the next decade or so may open. Next: maybe Saitama. It's a godsend for me, with the West Tokyo store opening a year ago just a few stops away from me on my train line. just went there today, getting some bagels (real ones, not the kind you usually find in Japan) and whipped cream cheese, four-cheese ravioli, microwave butter popcorn, a bag of cheap lemons, a big net of garlic cloves, five rotisserie chicken legs and thighs (fresh baked) and some other nice stuff. There's a 4,000 yen yearly membership fee, but for what you get at the prices they have, you can't beat it.

And even local stores have a lot more imported stuff, a lot different from the protectionist 80's when an imported can of beer--when you could find it--cost almost twice what it does now. A lot of foods, snacks and other groceries you can get which you couldn't before.

Plane Tickets. I remember the shock of calling a travel agency and being told that my round-trip ticket to California and back would cost about US$2,000. Sure, you could get cheaper tickets, but not by much. Many of you who were here in those days will remember the old "yobiyose" tickets. Essentially, they were three-leg plane tickets bought overseas and then sent to people in Japan. For example, the ticket would go from Hong Kong to Tokyo, then to San Francisco, and then back to Tokyo. The buyer in Tokyo would just toss out the first leg and use the second two. And still the ticket would be a lot cheaper than one bought in Japan. Others would just buy one-year open-ended tickets in their home country, and just make sure they went back every year, buying a new ticket each time.

Somewhere along the line, the pricing system changed, and now it's a lot cheaper--perhaps even cheaper coming from Japan. I just got a round-trip, non-stop ticket for my Christmas visit home to the S.F. Bay Area for 47,000 yen (plus about 10,000 yen for airport, airline and sales taxes). That's $430, or $520 with taxes--not too shabby.

All of this makes life quite a bit easier in Japan--a nice place to be, all on its own.

Amped Up

It is nice not to have the lights go out like they used to. No, I'm not talking about living in California or New York, but rather here in Tokyo, where power outages are very rare indeed. Instead, I'm referring to the low amperage allotted to apartments in Tokyo, and how my breakers used to trip all the time.

Used to be that whenever I had an air conditioner and the clothes dryer going at the same time, then SNAP! Out the lights would go. Time to grope my way to the breaker box and switch the power back on, then to reset half the clocks in the place, and fiddle all the other settings around the apartment which got wigged out.

Eventually, I got tired of this. I'm not a big energy hog, but there are times when I want to use more than just a few appliances at a time, thank you. And thirty amps just wasn't enough. So I called up the energy company, and it turned out they can upgrade--though in my case, only to 40 amps. Good enough; I asked them to come over, and the electrician installed the new breaker in just a few minutes.

It costs a few dollars more a month (my basic energy usage hasn't gone up in itself), but it is very nice to be able to run the nuke wagon with the TV and cooler going and not find oneself suddenly in a dark room.; I haven't had a single breaker trip since the upgrade.

And a Few More

On the way back from Minami-Tama station, a local festival troupe passed by. I still don't know what it was all about, but it was fun....

My favorite of all the photos was the second one. A bright sky background led to a very nice effect above the mikoshi. If you would like to see a larger rendition of the photos, click here.

New Photos from Japan

Here are a few more photos I have taken around town lately.

This fellow, photographed outside Minami-Tama station on the Nambu Line, is an excellent example of the transition in telecommunications. When I first came to Japan, many people depended on payphones; I did, from time to time. There was an array of public telephone types, with different colors and abilities for connections (remember trying to hunt down a phone booth that could dial internationally?). And the prepaid telephone telephone cards were a big deal, sometimes used as business cards, and sometimes sold "recycled" by shady characters atop train platform staircases.

Today, most people use their cell phones instead--and in the case of this guy, in exactly the same spot he'd use if speaking on a payphone.

Right after I took the shot of the fellow at the phone, a squad of female Kyudo archers came by. You see students like this from time to time, dressed in their traditional hakata pants and keiko-gi shirts (apparently the tabi shoes are optional). If you'd like to know a bit more about Kyudo, go here.

Shinjuku Skyline Sunset

Got a nice photo of the sunset tonight from the roof of our 9-story school building. This is a composite of three separate photos. For space purposes on this main page, I can't show the full-size image. However, if you would like, I have available a larger version (1200 pixels by 320 tall, better for computer screens) available.

Dinner Out

Once or twice a week I'll stop by a place on the way home. If I'm willing to go out of my way for a treat, I'll go to Akiyoshi yakitoriya in Ogikubo. But on my train line home there is a sushi place I drop by, a place I believe is called "Ganso" Sushi (possibly "Genroku"), a "Kaiten-zushi," or conveyor-belt sushi joint.

This particular place is reasonably priced--about a dollar per plate (two pieces per plate) and up, with my favorite, maguro, being on the cheapest plate. But what I like about this place is that you don't have to eat the stuff on the conveyor belt, and can instead order new plates to be made for you. This is a big thing for me--I hate having to choose from the hour-old fish that's starting to turn dark from dryness. Ganso has always let me order fresh--with the singly, highly disappointing visit I made when my father was in town and they shoved the old stuff in front of us (we came during lunch, so the policy may have been different).

I always thought that I was rather stodgy in my selection--I always have maguro, six or eight plates of it. One after the other, maguro maguro maguro. Sometimes people stare.

Tonight I dropped by for, of course, some more maguro. Had to wait a few minutes for a seat to open up, and two did at once. So the other solo guy who'd walked in just after me sat down on the next stool. But this guy made me feel a bit less like the most unusual customer in the shop. He ordered eight plates of the same kind of fish, more than my six for the night--and then ordered ten plates of ika (squid) all at once. The chef had to ask twice to make sure he'd heard right.

I left before he was able to scarf down all the squid, but he was making admirable progress. And for all I know, he ordered another ten plates after I left.

Small Things I Like About Japan

The norm of many foreigners in Japan (usually the short-termers) is to talk about the things that are wrong with the country, and like any country, there are indeed a lot of things wrong to focus on. But what about the better things? Well, people often mention the bigger things, like greater public safety and on-time trains. But here are a few nods of recognition for the lesser positives that are nonetheless appreciated.

English. Okay, this is not so much a small thing, but still not huge, and not acknowledged enough. When I hear people complain that English should be in more places in Japan, I think of how spoiled people tend to be; English is available in so many places, especially considering that only about half a percent of the population consists of non-Asian foreigners. In the U.S., bilingualism usually is triggered when a much more substantial portion of the populace in non-English speaking. But despite the relative sparsity of native English speakers in Japan, there is a wealth of English to help us, from signs in train stations, bilingual ATM machines, materials in city offices, English speakers at business help numbers, and more. Recently, I bought a cell phone which included an abbreviated English manual, and had the option of switching all displays into English.

Stalls in Public Toilets. Ever been sitting in a stall in a public restroom in America, and someone outside peers in at you from the crack between the door and the frame of the stall? Not exactly a comfortable moment, that. Well, in Japan, that doesn't happen. Toilet stalls in this country were designed for privacy. The doors go all the way to the floor, and bevels on the door ensure that there is no crack for strangers to peer at you through. An added nod to privacy, though less certain as a positive because of the water it wastes, is the "courtesy flush" that men's urinals automatically set off by infrared sensors. This masks the initial sounds, and for many people, helps get the old waterworks running as well.

Walk and Shop. The relative lack of cars as a means of popular transportation means that things tend to be more localized in Japan. In the U.S., one usually has to drive to the market, or at least suffer a long walk (well, suffer on bad weather days, at least). In Japan, things are still smaller and more localized, despite recent trends towards mall-ization. Almost anywhere you set down here, there will be some small businesses where you can get what you need. Convenience stores are everywhere. Supermarkets are more easily found. Restaurants, or at least fast-food joints, are more likely to be nearby. And vending machines, sometimes looked down upon, are nevertheless quite handy at times.

Department Store Clerks. Ever been to a department store in the U.S. where you had to hunt down a clerk to give your money to? And when you found them, you had to wait behind three or four other people buying half the store with a personal check? And forget about asking someone a question. In Japan, clerks are all over the place in department stores. Yes, less so that in the booming 80's, but still they can commonly be found, usually just by standing where you are and turning 360 degrees or less. It's only at the high-volume stores like Yodobashi Camera, or the lower-cost value stores like home centers, that you have to really look for someone to ask a question--but even at these places, there is no shortage of cashiers.

More to come as I keep my eyes open for them--and that would be a good thing for all of us to be on the lookout for here in Japan--the little things that make life easier here, that usually go unappreciated.

Anyone have observations they'd like to contribute?

Watching TV As You Drive

I've noticed that a lot of cars have little TV screens for the DVD navigation system--but all too often, I noticed that people are watching TV instead of the navigation maps. Makes me wonder exactly how safe these drivers are. You see enough people smoking or talking on cell phones--watching TV is not a distraction you really want to add. In the back seat, for the kids, maybe....

Sunset, Sunrise

Some photos taken in the past few days. First, I caught a sunset--not great as a sunset, but some interesting photos within nevertheless. Then a sunrise, after a very late night up, taken from my dining room window.

Seiseki Sakuragaoka, on the Keio Main Line, seen from the bridge. A time elapse shot, about 10 seconds.

An egret in the water below. This shot is not reduced in size, but rather is a crop from a much larger photograph; otherwise, I would never have gotten it so close up. A "digital zoom," I suppose you could say.

A nice two-second elapse shot, a truck rolling by.

And the shot out my dining room window. A nice view, I just wish it got sunsets rather than sunrises--I'm not awake for enough of the latter.

Quake: 9/20/2003

A pretty strong quake just hit. I had just been on the phone with my father and sister for a few minutes when I felt the room shake. It wasn't violent, but it was a pretty darned respectable shaking, probably the strongest I've felt in Japan so far. The glass doors on my video cabinet were shaking, and the ceiling lamp was swinging quite a bit. It has been announced on NHK as a 5.5 quake (don't know if that's Richter or Japanese scale), 80 km deep under southeast Chiba prefecture, just east of Tokyo. That's not the biggest quake I've felt since in Japan, but it was the strongest because it was the nearest big quake.

Tenki.jp and Hi-net are both not responding, probably deluged by people like me, trying to access their pages to see about the quake.

More as it comes in.

Here's a map that came from the Tenki.jp site, which is now responding again:

Connected

I find it ironic that I live in Tokyo, where Internet access is perhaps more advanced than anywhere in the world--heck, I even teach computer classes--and yet I'm stuck at about 1.5 Mbps, which for the uninitiated, means I can download almost 200KB per second, or the equivalent of a floppy disk in 7 seconds (which, ironically, is faster than a floppy drive could read all of that data to my hard drive). To many in the U.S., this may sound pretty fast; broadband speeds in America are now fairly slow, slower than they were 2-3 years ago in fact. My father pays about what I do for a 300 Kbps (0.3 Mbps) DSL connection; to get even close to my speed, he'd have to cough up $70 a month or more.

A bit about Internet connections first (those in the know skip to the next paragraph). While data on a disk is measured in bytes, transmission speeds are measured in bits, which are one-eighth of a byte. 100 KB (kilobytes), for example, is 800 Kb (kilobits, that's a lowercase "b"). The slowest connection nowadays is referred to as "dialup," or "analog," which means you stick your telephone line directly into the back of your computer and then dial the telephone number of your Internet service provider (ISP). This gives a theoretical maximum of 56 Kb per second, more realistically about 40. The next step up is ISDN, which allows you to dial up the Internet on your computer while at the same time using the phone to call someone; it uses a digital line, and gets you up to 64Kbps. Then there's a big jump up to DSL, which ranges from just over a megabit (Mb) per second to 12 Mbps, and soon up to 26 Mbps. And finally, fiber optic cables, which go considerably faster than that--top speed of 100 Mbps.

Up to about three years ago, Japan was hopelessly behind. We were stuck with either analog dialup or ISDN, which sucks because both require not only a monthly charge for the telephone line but you also have to pay by the minute--Japan has no free local telephone calls. Meanwhile, in the U.S., my father had DSL and was getting about a megabit of broadband DSL, which you can stay connected to all day long, no phone charges incurred.

Then things flip-flopped. The U.S. hit its current economic slump, and American DSL providers started raising rates and lowering speeds. Japan, in a program to help the country out of its decade-long economic crisis, completed a new phase of its Internet infrastructure plan and got DSL, quickly followed by fiber optic. DSL speeds started out at 1.5 Mbps, then got upgraded to 8 Mbps and 12 Mbps, and recently they started selling 26 Mbps (more than 3MB sent per second at theoretical top speed!). DSL costs only about $20 per month here, including ISP fees. I have the 12 Mbps service, but because I live in a nice, big place in a remote, gree area, I am more than 2 km from the switching station and so my speed is degraded, probably at about 2 Mbps--but I'm not complaining, er, too much.

I looked into getting fiber optic, but the cables are big and stiff and cannot be fitted into most older buildings, like mine. If it were possible, I could get 100Mbps (12.5 megabytes per second) for about $70 a month, same as my father in California would pay SBC for a connection 1/100th as fast. However, I can get fiber optic at the school where I work. We got the connection for the school a year ago, and it is fast. So fast, in fact, that we can't get near the top speeds because almost no one else has such a fast connection to send the data. But I have pulled down data from Apple's web site at 2 megabytes per second. What's funny here is that my school of 300 students or so has had this for a while now, and I see CNN articles about how a 40,000-student university in the states is bragging about their new 100 Mbps connection.

There is hope for my apartment in the Tokyo outback, though. A new service, called VDSL (yeah, I know), may be available in a year or two; VDSL brings fiber optic to a local phone switch, then converts to DSL. I've been told that we could get 18 Mbps by then.

One More of the Moon

I just can't resist. Took this one only a few minutes ago. Came out very nice.

Beautiful Sunset

Got another beautiful Sunset on my way home again tonight. My new schedule lets me get home earlier than before, and I'm seeing some nice ones. The first one I caught early, but was not in place to take great pictures--but I was able to get to a good bridge in time, and got the following ones there.

This last sunset shot I was able to capture blind--my digital camera's battery had quit twice, and only let me take shots with no viewfinder. But it turned out great:

And then, when I got home, I got a great moonrise to boot.

Gyoza Update

In subsequent variations on the gyoza recipe that I've attempted, I've discovered a few things that help round out the rough edges to the formula.

First off, when using meat, it is important not to use lean meat; this results in the gyoza being dry. Some fat content in the ground meat is desirable.

Second, use cheese. A good amount of shredded mozzarella, I've found, can help contribute to a softer texture.

Third, remember that gyoza is a malleable thing; you can change the ingredients and their amounts to your taste.

Sunset

A beautiful day today, and a beautiful sunset to match. Caught a little of it as I was out today, on my first 3-day weekend this semester (got a 4-day schedule this time, it'll be a nice four months). The weather here in Tokyo has been nice and sunny, and pleasantly warm--not the usual stifling heat and humidity. We can only hope that this holds up. For now, a week of nice weather is forecast. Ahhh.....

Lost in Translation

Check out the trailer for the new movie Lost in Translation starring Bill Murray. Murray plays a celebrity who gets $2 million for making a whiskey commercial in Japan, and meets a woman there with her photographer husband; friendship ensues, so the blurbs say. The big attraction to me is that the whole thing is set in Tokyo, and promises to have a lot of very amusing interaction between Murray and Tokyoites. It is slated for a September release in the states, but I can't find any published release dates for Japan. It opens in some countries as late as December, though. (IMDB page)

Lightning Storm

As I was heading home tonight, I noticed that the sky was growing more and more threatening. When I walked in the door, I felt lucky to avoid being rained on--but as it turned out, rain was not on the menu. Lightning was.

Soon after I sat down to relax, I noticed some lightning outside. Well, nice and normal--I like lightning. I like to listen to the thunder, too. Once there was a lightning storm at my work, real close by, and I went outside to watch and listen. One bolt cracked down and hit a lightning rod atop an apartment building just a block away, right in my view--the blast of sound was just about instantaneous. Now, that's entertainment!

Tonight, it was far away, but something was strange. I noticed some lightning out of the corner of my eye as I sat in my living room. Then again a few seconds later. Then again, and again. I thought I was imagining it--sometimes, reflections off the frames of my glasses can appear to be something else. But when I went to the window, I was right--there was a hellacious lightning storm going on in central Tokyo

Lacking my digital video camera (at school, for a project), I got out my trusty digital camera and took some shots of it (above right, and below). Unfortunately, it was hard to catch the full feeling of it--it was far too light for a good time-exposure shot. But the camera has a movie mode, so I took several 30-second movies (the time limit for higher-quality movie files). I then edited some of the shots together; they are available here. Like with the Bon Matsuri movie, you must have Quicktime and/or the ability to view MPEG-4 files. This movie is only about 500KB in size, and is reduced in size--but you'll get a better idea about the storm from it.

Calling James Bond

Toyota just released a new car, it's environment-friendly Prius (which I have heard good things about), this time with 10% better gas mileage than the last model, and with an interesting new feature: it parks itself.

Apparently, if you get into a tight parking situation, the car will do the job for you with built-in sensors detecting the close-by obstacles. It was only mentioned that the parking assist works "when reversing into parking spaces"; I am not yet clear on whether or not it parallel parks (which would impress me a lot more). The "intelligent" parking system is a $2000 add-on, and includes a DVD-navigation system.

Toyota has sold about 120,000 of the Prius model, and expects to sell another 74,000 next year.

The hybrid car runs on both gas and electricity, using flywheels for the brakes to gather up the energy that would otherwise be dissipated as heat. Especially while driving in the city (with short starts and stops), the energy returned from the brakes helps to sustain the battery for longer periods and increases energy efficiency.

I wouldn't mind having one of those puppies.

Bon Matsuri

My neighborhood had the annual Bon Matsuri today. I should have been paying attention to the notice board, but instead I found out by hearing the music playing from my apartment window. On my trip down to the supermarket, I stopped by and took a few photos.

The dancers...

And some kids who will be up there in a few year's time.

And a group of kids very talented at the taiko drums, both hitting the drums and tossing and twirling the sticks.

A small movie (240 x 360) of the dancing can be seen here. The file is an MPEG-4 Movie, so you will probably have to have an MPEG-4 codec (or an OS X Mac) to view it. The file is 1.7 MB, 43 seconds long. You may have to wait a minute or two before it loads and starts playing. Enjoy!

New Cell Phone

Japan is rather cell-phone crazy. My folks have a couple of cell phones, but compared to the feature-rich array of phones in Japan, theirs look positively boring. Walk down a city street in Japan, and it seems like there will always be a person or two in sight talking on their phone. Even more so, watch people on trains: many will have their cell phones open (see photo at right), reading or writing email, looking at photos. When Hiromi and I went to Otaki Falls, a couple came down into the waterfall pocket valley and immediately took photos of everything with their cell phones.

When I most recently came to Japan to work and live in 1998, I held back getting one, figuring that it would only make me more accessible to staff at my school to call me in to do more work, and wouldn't be very useful for me. But after a year and a bit, I caved in and bought a simple model, and the base calling plan (2000 yen / $16 a month, 10 yen / 8 cents per minute for calls). That worked fine for me, but after four years, my phone--basic when I bought it--was looking more and more like a fossil. Also, having started this blog, I began to get interested in the idea of moblogging. At first, I waited for Bluetooth-enabled models to come out--there are some great Sony-Ericsson phones, like the P-800, which can work great with Macs. However, after waiting more than 6 months, I realized that Bluetooth phones are just not happening in Japan anytime soon. In fact, the number of Bluetooth-enabled cell phones in Japan fell from two models to zero while I watched.

So I figured that it was time to break down and buy. I tried doing the best research I could with the limited consumer-oriented review material available in Japan, and settled on a phone using the same carrier / plan I was already using; they have a phone, just recently released, which fit my bill. It's the DDI-Pocket H" H-SA30001V (Japanese language site).

Staying with the same plan helped me avoid the hassle of canceling and re-signing up for phone service; with the new phone, I have the same number and the same calling plan prices I signed up for four years ago. It also made it easy for the people at the store to transfer the phone book data from my old phone into my new one--a pleasant surprise, as I had no idea that was possible, and they didn't tell me that they did it--I found out by going home and finding all my numbers there.

But be careful when deciding what to do when you switch--there are two options if you stay with the same carrier. One option, in which you keep the same phone number and calling plan, costs 2000 yen more. The option which seems costs less keeps you with the same carrier, but allows you to change the phone number and calling plan. However, the cheaper plan has hidden costs: a 2000 yen fee for cancellation, a 2000 yen fee for re-signing, along with a few other fees as well, making the deal more expensive than the first option.

Features of the SA3001V that attracted me included the CCD camera, the postage-stamp sized external LCD screen, the phone-to-PC data transfer ability, and, something I had not expected, the ability to switch all menus to English! (See left.) The phone also has the usual extras, such as calculator, schedule book, alarm clock and so forth. Another nice feature they have is the ability to match ring tones and photos with phone numbers; if, for example, my friend Andrew were to call from his cell phone, I would hear a specific ring tone and see his photo flashed on the mini-LCD screen before answering the call.

I did find out some facts about the camera which showed up the advertising to be a bit misleading. One, for example, was the claim that the CCD camera has 110,000 pixels, suggesting the ability to take photos with dimensions like 300 x 370 pixels. It turns out that this phone camera actually takes photos the same size as all the others--144 x 120 pixels--so I guess the "110,000" number has to do with the digital zoom feature, and has nothing to do with the actual photo size.

Also, there are quite a few freeware programs allowing you to engage in data transfers, but they are all (of course) in Japanese. The one I tried to install on my English-language Windows machine crashed on install. The Mac version did install, but only works under OS 9.2 (not in Classic mode). After spending a few hours banging my head against the wall, I finally got it to work, and was able to use the "H Tonya" to edit my phone book. Frankly, this is a big thing for me, because I absolutely hate having to key in my entire phone book using those danged tiny buttons, especially when I have to first switch to English for every entry, and then cycle through up to eight characters to get the single one I want.

Another nice feature is the addition of a slim, English-language summarized version of the instruction manual. With only 40 pages of notes, it pales to the 577 pages in Japanese, but it is far more than I had hoped for. It looks like Sanyo, the phone maker, is realizing that there are non-Japanese speakers living in Japan and some concessions would be helpful for them.

So I haven't used or even found out about all the features yet, but so far, it's worth the investment. I hope it hold up over time.

Now to figure out moblogging, once I can find the time....

Tokyo Butterfly (Okay, "Moth")

I found a moth on the stairway this evening, quite a pretty one. Being this close to the forest, we get tons of insects flying and crawling in, especially at night.

Foggy Night

We had unusually foggy weather up here on the heights tonight. A few 15-second time exposures to show off the view.

Rainy Season, Part II (And, Let's Hope, The End)

Um... well, maybe the rainy season isn't quite over yet. After just a few days of sunshine, we got a typhoon, and then a few days after that a 5-day rainstorm that will last through Sunday. It is the middle of August, and yet we not only have rain but low temperatures as well. Temps were in the low 20s C (low 70's F).

However, the rain is supposed to break Sunday night, and at least a week of sunny weather is supposed to come from Monday. Too late for many Japanese revelers--the O-Bon season was at its height last week, and most people had that time off. The slowly-recovering Japanese economy has taken a bit of a hit from this: sales of beer and other cold beverages, summer clothing, air conditioners and other hot-weather items have fallen. I myself just picked up a pair of short pants and two nice short-sleeve cotton shirts, all for less than $30, at a department store in Minami Osawa the other day--discounted due to poor sales.

The rice crops have been hit by the weather as well, but not as hard as in 1993, when Japan had to resort to the unbelievably radical measure of actually importing some rice. I remember that time; I was here. I remember especially that American and even Australian rice, though imported, were very hard to find in pure form. Any foreign rice that neared or matched the quality of Japanese rice was mixed together with long-grained Thai rice, thoroughly unpopular here, in an attempt to protect the impression Japanese people have that Japanese rice is the best in the world and cannot be equalled.

Anyway, we won't see anything as drastic as rice imports, but all the same, the toll is being taken. The question is, what does this unusually cool summer bode for the Fall and Winter?

Making Gyoza

Okay, settle down here, because this will be a long post--not necessarily in words, but in inches (or centimeters, as the case may be. A friend recently taught me how to make gyoza (sometimes spelled 'gyouza'), often called 'potstickers' in English. They are essentially a vegetable mix, with meat optional, encased in a small dough wrapping and steamed or fried before serving. I like gyoza, but the ones I get at stores tend to be far less than satisfying--but I found that I really like the homemade ones. The ones I'm showing today are made with chicken. Please note that the amounts of ingredients are approximate--they can easily be increased or decreased to suit your taste. Keep in mind I am no cook, nor a cookbook writer, so this could be a bit messy! Here is the basic setup for cooking:

1/2 head of cabbage or less (you won't use it all by a long shot, but usually you can't buy less)
1/2 onion
part of a clove of garlic (use however much you prefer)
one bunch "nira" (leeks)
one bunch "negi" (umm... also leeks, but a different kind. I like the thin type, shown above)
1 to 3 packages large gyoza wrappings (depends how many you plan to cook now)
Sesame oil ("gomayu")
Seasonings (I use salt and pimenton)
Ground chicken meat (around 250 grams, or half a pound, roughly)

You'll also need a little flour with water, a largish mixing bowl, a long, sharp knife, a regular spoon, and a frying pan with a cover. Keep in mind that these are just the suggested portions. You can change the amount of any ingredient to your taste, and even add or subtract filling ingredients.

First, slice some cabbage, perhaps three or so quarter-inch thick slices from the middle of the head. Discard any bulky pieces too close to the stem, then start chopping, until you've reduced it to tiny pieces. The amount you've chopped should amount to about a cup, slightly packed. When finished, throw them into the mixing bowl.

Next, take half an onion (just a regular white onion), and chop it into similarly small pieces. Then throw those into the bowl, too.

   
Then chop the leeks, not just slicing the bits off, but chopping those into finer bits as well. Each type should produce about a quarter of a cup. Into the mixing bowl they go.

Take whatever amount of garlic, if any, that you prefer--I took three lobes, or whatever you call them--and grate/crush them. Add this to the mixing bowl as well.

This is what you should have by now.

Now, for the meat, I like to use ground chicken. Ground beef was way too dry; ground pork was OK, but chicken makes the gyoza much juicier, in my humble gourmet opinion. I use the fattier ground chicken, in fact.

Update: At this point, you may want to add cheese. I have found that shredded cheese, added to taste, can make the gyoza even more tasty. I use mozzarella, grated, about half a cup.

After the chicken is added, top it off with the seasonings you prefer. Salt and pepper are safe bets. I use pimenton (smoked Spanish pepper spice) because, well, I use it on everything. So on it goes.

   
Finally, pour on some sesame oil. Don't be stingy, but don't create a flood, either. Maybe 1/4 cup or so will do, though I'm just estimating here. And then--eeewwwwwww!!--go in with both hands and squish, squash, and knead all of it together until it is well-mixed. Then go wash your hands, for god's sake!

OK, here are the shells to use. They come in different sizes and thicknesses. I always go for the large ones, partially because I like big gyoza, but also because the smaller ones create a lot more work--you have to make more, and as you'll see, the shell crimping can be time-consuming. I have no preference between the thick and thin types. Here I am using the thin ones. You can usually find them in your (Japanese) supermarket near the ground meats; if not, ask. The ones I use come in packages of 20.

Have the gyoza filling mix in the mixing bowl handy, as well as an empty plate to put the finished gyoza. Get a small dish or saucer, and put a small amount of flour (a teaspoon, perhaps, no more) onto it, then add a little water; mix some flour into the water until it becomes milky, but not very thick. Open the gyoza shell package, and take out some of the round shells; we're gonna wrap some potstickers!

Here comes the difficult part of the recipe; it may take you several attempts to get decent at it, so be patient. First, take a shell into the palm of one hand, and then spoon out some gyoza filling into its center; see the photo above for the amount. Less than a spoonful to be certain--for the first few, less is better than more (when you close the shell, a few steps later, there should be maybe a third or half an inch of border around the filled center). There's lots of filling here, so go ahead and waste a few if needed.

Next, dip the tip of your finger into the flour-water, and apply this to the border of half the gyoza shell (the same side the filling is on), so as to mark out a semi-circle. Only spread enough with your finger to cover the surface of the edge and make it sticky; it should not run wet. This acts like a glue, and is to get the shell to stay closed. In the photo above, I have set the shell on the cutting board only because I needed a hand free to snap the photo; usually, I wet the edges while holding the shell in my other hand.

Next can be the trickiest part:

You're going to have to close the shell, but not just in a smooth, straightforward manner. You will have to crimp one side of the border, making creases along the way. Different people have different techniques for this. My way is to bring the two halves of the shell together and close them just at the center point, leaving the sides temporarily open. Then, working from the top/center, I take some slack from the far side of the shell (as you see in the above illustration, I start on the right side), creating the crease--then pressing down hard to seal them together. I do this twice on the right, and twice on the left, for four creases; you do what suits you.

The finished product should look something like this:

Note the creases in the shell are only on the one side (call it the "top" now), and the other side should be flat. Note also that the filling should not come close to the edge, with a 1/3 or 1/2 of an inch border.

Continue dalloping, gluing, folding, crimping and pressing, until you have the desired number of gyoza. Usually 12 or so are enough for someone with a good appetite; Hiromi, my friend Ken and I found that 40 gyoza serve three people quite nicely, along with a salad and drinks. The amount of filling that this recipe generates is enough for 40 gyoza, possibly 45 (or even 50 if you use less filling in each). If there is filling left over after you finish (as I had tonight), then drop it into a ziploc and refrigerate it; more gyoza for tomorrow!

In the end, your plate might look like this:

I made 14 here, just for myself (me, hungry).

Now, prepare the frying pan by pouring a small amount of oil (olive oil would be great here) into the pan, then spread it around with a square of paper towel; there should be enough to slightly 'wet' all the gyoza as you place them down. Do not pour so much that the whole pan bottom is covered; to the contrary, keep it very light, so that all the oil can be absorbed easily into the gyoza.

Next, place the gyoza into the pan; up to twenty should fit at a time. Don't worry if they touch. Fry the gyoza at low heat without a cover, until the bottom of the gyoza are brown; then raise the heat a touch for a moment. Then, with the pan cover in one hand, take a cup of water in the other and pour it into the frying pan, then quickly cover the top as the water turns to steam.

Keep the top on for five minutes at least, perhaps more, checking periodically; when the water has all but steamed off and there is just a bit of water and oil left in the pan, the gyoza may be done. If the water has gone but you think more cooking may be in order, add a bit more water and cover again.

When the gyoza are done, take the pan to your kitchen sink. Drain any excess water (there shouldn't be any if you did it right), then uncover the pan, and put a dinner plate, upside-down, over the gyoza. Holding the plate with one hand, turn the pan over with the other, then remove the pan from atop; the gyoza should now be nicely placed on the plate.

Congratulations--you've got gyoza! Gyoza need a dipping sauce, so in a small saucer, pour some soy sauce, and then some sesame oil. I top that with (of course) a little pimenton. Serve the gyoza from the central plate, allowing everyone to take from it and dip in their saucer.

Enjoy!

Wrapping Fever

Anyone who's lived in Japan even for a short while is aware of the over-wrapping that sometimes occurs at Japanese stores. Once, at a food shop in the basement of a department store in Futago-Tamagawa, I bought an item of food that was already in a wrapper, This item was wrapped in paper, then placed into a baggie, and that was put into a shopping bag--or it would have been, if I hadn't stopped the farce right there, then took the item from the baggie and walked off. I didn't return the wrapping paper because I knew they'd just throw it out anyway (which they likely did for the baggie).

McDonald's does a similar thing. You get one of the lunch sets, and they put the hamburger (wrapped) into a bag with the fries, and then the drink gets its own bag, and then those two are put into a large plastic bag. I always have to remind them, sometimes more than once, to forget the plastic bag, and even the paper bags--if I get nuggets, for example, I just carry the damned box and slip the sauce into my pocket. But I get the feeling that I'm the only one who does that.

Today, I went to the supermarket, armed with my backpack as usual. I don't always refuse their bags, though--it's like getting free trash bags, really, and saves having to buy them. But it's more convenient to use the backpack, anyway (who likes the plastic bag handles cutting into you hands?).

But when you buy dishes, like I did today, you get more wrapping fever. I bought four mid-sized plates tonight, and at the checkout stand, the guy started to individually wrap each one in pieces of paper way to big--and it was clear he was going to put all of them into a paper bag to boot.

So I stopped him before he could tape up the first one; I unwrapped it part-way, still leaving the plate covered top and bottom. I put plate #2 on top and then covered that with the remaining paper, then put the other plates on top and bottom of that.

"There," I told him. "That'll do fine."

He smiled, nodded, and said, "Thanks, and sorry, the store makes me do that."

The dishes survived the trip quite well.

Graduation Day

I used to preside over graduation at our college, when I served as coordinator for some five years (translate "coordinator" as "dean," but without a Ph.D.), handing out the diplomas, making the speeches. You probably never imagined yourself doing that kind of thing, but then there you are. I came back to full-time teaching because teaching has always been my desire, and the administrative grind just really wears you out. But graduation was always fun. So now I just watch with the rest of the faculty.

...and there's good food, too!

Diet Fracas

--photo from AP

Quite the scene in the Upper House of the Japanese parliament last Friday. The scuffle was set off when the majority party decided to send Japanese troops into Iraq, a live-fire region. The protesting lawmakers hold that this violates the pacifist Japanese constitution. Now if only we could get this kind of action in the Senate in Washington, D.C.

That's Difficult

Soon after I first came to live and work in Japan, I ran into an interesting social and linguistic difference between Japan and my native country: the ability to say "no."

It was when I visited a store to purchase a large item, and I wanted to see if they could deliver it to my apartment. I asked the clerk, in Japanese, if they could do that. The clerk gave me a bit of a puzzled expression, you know, the neck-tilting head-scratching gesture, and said, "Mmmm, muzukashii ne." "It'd be difficult."

So of course, I ask him, "but is it possible?"

"Hehhhh... sa, hmmmm, muzukashii."

"Yes, I know it might be difficult. But can you do it?"

"Ano ne, ... aahhhh ... ya, Muzukashii."

It took several of these exchanges for me to realize that the clerk was not trying to be obstinate, but rather was simply, out of reflex, trying to avoid saying the word "no." Neither of us could break through this wall, and so we had the rather amusing feedback loop. Just so when you hear someone in a service position telling you that it will be "difficult" to do something, you'll know what it means.

End of the Rainy Season

Finally!

This has been one of the longest rainy seasons for quite some time, and good riddance now that it's over. Yesterday, we got patchy sunshine here in Tokyo, and today, we have nice, sunny weather.

The Four-Visit Teeth Cleaning

For foreigners living in Japan, visiting the doctor or the dentist can be a stressful experience. Frankly, the quality of medical services seems substandard, especially for such an advanced nation. This is not all due to the insurance system--the fact is, many doctors, and especially dentists, seem to lack sufficient training, or are far too overworked, or perhaps just don't really care too much about what level of service they provide.

A dentist I visited in my neighborhood is a prime example. I went to that office simply because it was close and convenient. Boy, do I regret that. I lost my second molar on my lower left side, and had to get a bridge because I was not discerning enough. I had gone to that office for minor treatment before and things went fine enough, so when I needed more important work done, I trusted them. But the doctor screwed up, and how. He was supposed to just replace a crown. While removing the prior dental work, he exerted a startling amount of force on the tooth, pushing, pulling, yanking and so forth; but I took it in stride, trusting he knew what he was doing. Some doctors and dentists will do that kind of thing, in my experience. Then he told me to come back after the weekend for the second visit, and gave me a temporary crown, and warned me not to bite down on that tooth.

Over that weekend, I took extreme care to not exert pressure on the tooth. I say this not in pride but in admission to being somewhat neurotic about such things. I chewed only on my right side, and would stop whenever any food migrated to the left side. I did not touch that tooth with anything. But when I visited the dentist on Monday, he told me that the tooth was broken, and scolded me for biting with it. I was rather upset, considering (a) the care I had taken with it, and (b) the violence he had exerted on it the previous Friday. But there was nothing to do about it--he showed me with a mirror, and lo, the tooth was split. I had no choice but to let him yank it.

He asked me when I would make an appointment for him to make a bridge to cover the tooth. I gave him a look, left, and never went back. I got the bridge at a different, reputable dentist (one who speaks English well, by the way).

Dentists in Japan have a bad rep with most foreigners for reasons more than just this. I hardly know anyone who doesn't have a bad-dentist story or two to tell. An Australian woman I worked with in the countryside told me of a dentist who filled a cavity so badly, the filling actually fell out, and she had to come back to get it refilled. When we visited a restaurant later that week, the proprietor, who enjoyed chatting with customers, sat down at our table and told us the story of a dentist who had come in earlier and told a lamentable story. Apparently, he had done poor dental work on this Australian woman, and had told the restaurant owner that it was because during the first visit, he was so preoccupied looking down the woman's shirt, he did not do a good job on her teeth. Predictably, my friend was not amused.

I had another nightmare experience of my own a few years back. I went to an office that I had visited during a previous stay in Japan, as it had dentists who spoke English and did a good job. It was a modern office in a Shinjuku high-rise. When I visited again later, however, the dentists were different and did not speak English well, but I decided to give them a try.

I should have been tipped off when the dentist, trying to explain what he would do to me, pointed at my ailing tooth and said loudly, "TOOTH... NERVE... DESTRUCTION!" Knowing the language difficulties many Japanese have, I again took it in stride. But this one, apparently, did not know how to anesthetize very well. Although I insisted to him that I could still feel in the tooth he was trying to do root canal on, he pooh-poohed my objections and carried on. A few moments later, I experienced pain like I had never experienced it before. It was so intense that I literally could not stop screaming for more than a minute. Luckily for them, I had a late appointment and no other patients were in the office. Naturally, I never went there again, either.

One of the more annoying (but far less painful) idiosyncrasies of dental work in Japan is the multiple-visit syndrome. This is also true for doctors sometimes, but dentists are renowned for it. Most patients who come in will have the Kokumin Hoken (National Health Insurance), which has a somewhat convoluted payment system. One way for medical practitioners to milk the insurance system is to require patients to make multiple visits; the more visits you make, the more money they can collect.

In the past, this has resulted in my having to visit the dentist a rather obscene number of times. Root canal, which can be dealt with in three or four visits maximum back home, takes as many as a dozen separate visits here in Japan. Once I just wanted to get my teeth cleaned, and they scheduled me for no less than four separate visits--one for each quadrant of my teeth.

Some sound advice: ask your dentist, in advance, how many visits the work will require. If they tell you it will take any more visits than are necessary (in your past experience), then leave and see another dentist.

But this is not limited to dentists. Recently I had a small bump on my finger and went to a recommended dermatologist in Shinjuku to have it taken care of. They did an excellent job in removing it, but the biopsy results they got back from the lab they used were less than conclusive. So I asked to get the biopsy sample, so I could take it to Keio Hospital, where I trusted their results on that kind of thing better. The dermatologist's office called me and told me the biopsy sample was ready, so I went over to pick it up--and was annoyed to find that I would have to wait half an hour to see the doctor. I insisted that I was just picking up an envelope, I did not need to see the doctor--but they insisted. Fuming, I sat down and waited. As I expected, when my name was called, I went to the doctor's office, and all he did was hand me the envelope. As I left, they stopped me, and told me to wait for the calculation of the bill. Well, that was a bit too much for me. It was clear that there was absolutely no reason for me to have waited, and all they were doing was trying to get a consultation fee out of me when no consultation was required--it was a package pickup, fer cryin' out loud! It wouldn't have costed me much--410 yen I think it was--but I was already indignant and refused. I told them that I got no medical treatment, and was made to wait for half an hour needlessly, and I was damned if I was going to pay them for that! The receptionist, probably aware that I had them to rights, let up and told me that they would let me go "this time." Well, they're not going to get away with it next time, either.

In case you were wondering, the dentist I use now is Dr. Nishibori, 1-30-8 Sendagaya, Shibuya-ku, phone number (03) 3403-8885 / 8886. They're practically right across the street from Sendagaya Station on the Sobu Line, and they take National Insurance. I got a full checkup and a bridge made there, with only a few small blips; they seem like a good outfit. For example, when it came to doing some root canal work, they referred me to another dentist when they easily could have done it themselves; it was a slightly unusual job, though, and needed special care.

Another Costco Haul

As you can see, I've been shopping again at the Tama Sakai Costco, near Hashimoto Station on the Yokohama and Keio Sagamihara lines.

This time much of it is fixings for a fireworks party next Sunday (if the rain will give us a break!). The fireworks display is nicely viewable out my dining room window; last year a half-dozen folks came for the party (though it was in October then).

Got some four-cheese ravioli (yum), walnuts (should be for cooking, but they're great for snacking), limes, mints, Picante Sauce (like a thin salsa), some wine and liqueur, buns (for some polish dogs I got previously), and an apple pie (much better than the rather lame pecan pies they had a year ago, not surprisingly discontinued).

And you probably noticed the DVD player--region-free (you can play both U.S. and Japanese DVDs in it), and cheap--just about 10,000 yen.

The problem in that store is not buying stuff.

Getting it home can be problematic... They have delivery service, but it is based in Kanagawa and serves people in that prefecture best. It's OK for really big hauls, but for ones like this--just bring your own bags, backpacks, and other goods for schlepping stuff around.

Discount Don Quixote

You might already know about it, but there is a chain of stores named "Don Quixote" which specialize in discount items. Not like Costco--you don't buy in bulk, and the store is far from being a big warehouse. The shop might actually be large, but it is so crammed with stuff you might feel claustrophobic. The aisles are not regular, nor are they always straight. The stores look like they were designed by a pack rat--hardly any space to move, items crammed into every nook and cranny.

But that's not a mistake--it's a sales strategy. The stores are designed so you feel like there's no end to the items there. Things are divided into 'departments' of a sort, but you will, by necessity, have to move through various areas before you get to where you want to go--and you'll probably see some unexpected stuff you want to buy along the way.

If you want to locate a branch of the store near you, or see what they have on sale, you might want to check out their web site, which includes an English-language version.

Onaka ga Ippai... or Whatever

Another language story: during the same homestay I mentioned in the Batman story, I was having lunch with my host mother and several of her friends--four middle-aged, kindly mothers living in a small, countryside town.

Upon finishing lunch, I wanted to say "onaka ga ippai," or "my stomach is full," a traditional statement indicating that the meal was enjoyable.

But I mistakenly transposed the initial vowels for the two main words in that sentence, and said "inaka ga oppai." That roughly translates to "the countryside has breasts."

Everyone started laughing aloud, and I had to ask someone to explain to me what I had said. At least I learned new vocabulary from it. I had never heard the word "inaka" (countryside) before.

Side note: my host mother had a pot holder in her kitchen that read "Joy Joy Cock." (In Japanese, for some reason, the word "cook" is borrowed from English, but is pronounced closer to "cock" than "cook." Why, I have no idea.)

New Gaijin Card

Every five years, you have to renew your Alien Registration Card (aka Gaijin Card, or Gaikokujin Torokusho); I just got mine renewed today. (Image at left--sorry for all the distortion, too much personal info there.) For those of you not in the know, all non-Japanese are required to carry these gaijin cards at all times; if a policeman stops you and you don't have it on you, then by rights he can take you in to the police station, where you must write a "gomen nasai" letter. You also have to get someone to bring in your gaijin card before you can go. If there is no one to bring your card in for you, you must give the police the keys to your place, and they will get it for you--unless they are kind enough to escort you home while you get your card out for them (happened to me once). Foreigners don't get stopped just for being foreigners as much as we used to, but it still happens from time to time.

Another infamous point about these cards is the fingerprint. Now it is no longer required (it was done away with chiefly due to protests by the sizable Korean-Japanese community), but it was necessary until just a few years ago. A lot of people did not like this, not only because it made people feel like they were being treated like criminals, but also because the print was prominently displayed on the card. In an early attempt to appease card holders, they provided a plastic slip case with a Ministry of Justice logo positioned to cover the print. Rather lame, really...

They fixed a few other things over time, as well. One was the size of the thing--it used to be an actual booklet, many pages long, too big to fit into most wallets. A huge pain, that was...

Smokin' Crean

After getting my new gaijin card, I left the shiyakusho (city hall) and saw a group of people dressed just like the illustration at right. These are the Japan Tobacco "Smokin' Clean" clean-up team. Japan is getting better and better about smoking, but is still a relative smoker's paradise. Many restaurants have no-smoking sections, but the smoking sections prevail, and are in nicer areas. Most workplaces, banks, rest areas and other public places are still smoking havens; the major exception is train platforms, which recently became entirely smoke-free.

The whole "Smokin' Clean" campaign (when you hear it on television, it sounds like "Smo-kin', CREEEN!"), aside from being a rather glaring oxymoron, is supposed to address the bad manners smokers are often famed for here, particularly littering. Japanese streets, of course, are far less tidy than is commonly believed overseas, and the major component of that street trash is from cigarettes. I long ago formed, tested and proved (well, to myself anyway) the theory that you could go to any place on any street in Japan at random, stop, and when you look around, see at least half a dozen cigarette butts laying there, often many more.

When you observe smokers here, it is not too surprising. Too often used to tossing butts on the street (and rarely even bothering to stomp them out), many seem to have gotten into the tossing habit. On more than one occasion, I have observed a smoker finishing a pack and approaching a vending machine to buy a new one--and instead of using the trash receptacle in or next to the machine, they crumple up and toss the empty pack on the street just a few feet away. Of course, this is nothing compared to the middle-aged businessman smoker, the guy who hawks loudly and spits disgustingly smack in the middle of the sidewalk or train station hallway. Yechh.

Seem like Japan Tobacco has a ways to go to reform the Japanese smoker....

Shinjuku Nishiguchi Monk

This fellow is often seen standing by a pillar on the very busy basement-level area outside the West Exit of Shinjuku Station. A monk in traditional garb, holding a begging (alms) bowl, with the trademark monk's hat ("Takuhatsu gasa"). Whenever someone drops some money into his bowl, he rings a bell.

The following text, from the Matsuyama Mokurai web site (a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism), describes this act in detail:

Despite attempting to be self-sufficient, most monasteries would practice alms rounds. Collecting alms was a symbolic act as well as a practical one and, thus, even if the monastery's warehouse was full, the monks would go beg. ... Monks might also stand silently on a street corner holding out their bowls for people to drop alms in. Sometimes ringing a small bell. This was typical of monks on pilgrimage. It is a practice you can still see today. Communication with lay people was usually limited. Monks kept their hats on and did not engage in conversation. Such interaction would cause the alms gift to become an act of favoritism. If kept anonymous, the begging is thus ennobling for both parties.