Ojamashimasu

Dropping in for a bit of afternoon tea in Jiyugaoka, Tokyo. Seeing someone wearing a kimono except for special occasions is not a common site in Japan---at least not in my neck of the woods.

Jiyugaoka Spring

If April showers bring May flowers, we'll be in luck this year since it seems to rain about every day.














Jiyugaoka, a lively little part of Tokyo. Lots of restaurants, small shops, pubs, bars, pachinko parlors, and izakaya(s). A nice place to visit on a dreary, rainy day. Might want to do so early before the crowds and cars arrives as there are few sidewalks, delivery trucks and vans are parked all over the place, and pedestrians must share the road with cars.























Bad weather doesn't stop doesn't stop the mail here.

Sakura

The cherry blossom season this year seems to be a bit longer than usual, perhaps due the the cooler, rainier weather. More time for parties, I guess. In the past, I had considered getting half (or completely) plastered under under cherry blossoms as a waste of time. I am no longer of that opinion.

This was on a cool, rainy, weekday in Denenchofu next to a "kindergarten" across the street from the Denenchofu Private Junior High School for Girls. There was no drinking or partying then, just folks hurrying back to work, or to the grocery store, or picking up their kids from school.

One woman wrote to me that to her, sakura means the start of a new school year. Probably so in Japan as school has just begun.

(Something is actually sharp somewhere in the photo, I think.)

Take this job and shove it

Friday evening in September of 2009. Some folks returning home from work, others exercising, walking the dog, just doing what people in any modern country do.

This shouldn't shock anyone, but I recall back in the late 80s and early 90s when Japan was much more of an economic superpower---and the source of worry and illogical fear in the US---that many had an image of folks here as near robotic soldiers in Japan Inc who cared about nothing except their job.

I suppose in some ways there is (was) more of a tendency to devote oneself to his/her company than in the US---though this is not always a personal choice---it does not mean that Japanese have no life or interests outside the job.

I recall my first job in Japan at a small company in Toyama just after I graduated college. While in retrospect, it was a very enlightening and forever valuable educational experience, at the time I found it very difficult because of the cultural differences. After 4-years of studying East Asia (and Japan in particular) as well as having had spent 2-years in Korea in the USAF, reality turned out to be much different than theory. As it almost always is. What made it especially tough was the fact that much of what was then the stereotype of Japan (this was during some of the worst of the trade problems) and even some of the things I learned in university turned out to be wrong. Period.

Had I really kept in mind that folks here were humans---not some unique special breed like many inside and outside of Japan still believe---I think things would have been less difficult. It seems absurd now, but I remember being somewhat chagrined to hear some of my coworkers complaining about working overtime and the fact that our Golden Week of that year was so short. But the real complaints and worries of the guys on the factory floor was the risk of losing their jobs---it seems that they had to go look for new work about every two years because those small companies did not offer the so-called lifetime employment that the 30-odd percent of Japanese companies did.

I will steal an idea from Donald Richie when I say that I often see much bigger differences between me and some American from Ohio than I do between me and some Japanese from Chiba.

Friday Night in the World's biggest city

I guess it ain't really accurate to call Tokyo a city, as it is actually a prefecture made up of numerous---what should I call them?---towns.
Under an almost full moon (this year's "Wolf Moon") Friday night on the Tama River just across from Kanagawa prefecture's Shinmaruko.

Maple Sugar

A rare public display of affection under the autumn maples. Denenchofu, Tokyo, November 29, 2009.

Watching parents and kids interact tends to dispel any remanent, subconscious notion of a "unique uniqueness."

Tamagawa mizubenotori

For the last 2 years getting close enough to the egrets or heron along my part of the Tama River has been getting more and more difficult.

Not only are the birds very wary of both humans and their dogs, the habitat has changed. The river has been high enough that it almost always covers the small basalt island behind the homeless camp where many of both species---along with cormorants---would spend much of the day.

There are a few other "islands" which are slightly isolated from the majority of human/canine interlopers where the birds can get a little peace, but last summer one of those "sanctuaries" disappeared. It disappeared not because of nature, but because of man. I spotted a fellow damming up part of the river and thought perhaps he was doing it to catch fish. I wondered if it was legal to do so, but I suppose that it makes no difference.

The "dam" that he built has now been built up to the point that it has become a bridge to the island, resulting in it becoming a playground for parents, children, and dogs. Frankly, these folks appear to be either unaware of, or have absolutely zero concern for the pitiful remnants of wildlife there. Contrast that with some of the older guys I meet in the early morning who seem to know every species of bird along the river as well as the details---to the point of trivia---about the history of the river itself.

This egret was first one I have gotten within 30 meters of in over a year. Amazingly, it hung around as two families with dogs off-leash came down to where I was photographing and began running, screaming, and throwing rocks in the river. It wasn't until one of the dogs crossed the "bridge" to the island and came up behind the egret and started barking that the bird wisely left. So did I.

A windy New Year on Fujisan

A friend of mine who fancies himself an outdoorsman of sorts often asks what I do when I go to the mountains. I have found that if I have to explain in detail to someone what I do when I hike or spend time outdoors or why I like to do so, they'll never understand anyway.

N-san has climbed Fujisan twice and has been after me to do so too. "Why?" I asked the last time we debated it. "Because everyone is supposed to before they die," he replied. "Why?" I asked again. As much as N-san tried to convince me that climbing Fujisan in the summer with about a gazillion others on the same trail was a wilderness experience, he was unable to do so. I have no desire to ever climb Fuji, unless it were in the closed season. And I can probably live without that. I don't understand N-san's fascination with climbing Mt. Fuji any more than he understands mine with less populated places.

This was taken from Tamagawadaikoen on January 2nd. I avoided the group of 10 or so waiting to photograph it from the quasi-official "view" spot and went further into the park where I knew I could get a clear view and a photo somewhat different than the others of today.

It was windy on old Fuji today, as it always seems to be in the winter.

Nice bike

I love these old buildings which seem to be disappearing from many parts of Tokyo---or maybe it's just from my area. I have taken so many photos of this building and the small noodle restaurant, Eh-Wan, that the cops at the nearby police box are becoming familiar with me.

Taken in Yukigayaotsuka, Tokyo.

Wha'cha doing?

Folks in Tokyo are not especially well-known for open friendliness toward strangers---especially when the stranger is non-Japanese.

However, sometimes when I am out with a camera, people who would normally never approach me will suddenly become very talkative. Usually they are older people, but occasionally even the munchkins can't resist:

"What are you doing?" he asked as he rushed over to the spot where I was taking photos.

"Taking pictures," I replied.

He watched me for a few seconds before running over to stare at the scene, apparently wondering what was so special about the bike that I'd be photographing it.

Seseragi Park

The momiji--Japanese maple trees--are finally at peak color in this area of Tokyo. Taken on a nice cool Sunday morning which was a welcome break from the unseasonably warm weather we have had recently.

Neighbors chatting

While I was taking this, an old lady came up to me and said in English, "Old house." Then, apparently exhausting her English---or her patience with it for the day---she asked in Japanese, "Do you know it's a tatami shop?"

I did, but I was happy that she asked. Older folks often come up to me and talk when I am taking photos, something that ain't so common on other occasions in Tokyo.