From: arlj@mdcbbs.com
Date: 15 May 92 12:08:42 GMT
Organization: M&E (Division of EDS), Cypress CA
Author's note: Several have email'd their interest in my series of For_Travel_Only NOTES. Thank you. :-) I hope to fulfil my promise. In late June of 1989, I traveled through parts of Asia alone. These are the chronicles of that adventure. And so it begins... earlj
Eleven hours out of LAX and the big 747 landed at Narita airport. Narita is a city about 70 miles outside of Tokyo, Japan and I was finally in Asia. After a cursory visit with Customs and a rubber stamping at Immigration, I began my 'typhoon tour' of another land as 'A Stranger in a Strange Land'. Armed with a gym bag and a frameless backpacker's sack, my passport, two guidebooks, a scant wad of Traveler's Checks, and a used copy of Taipan, I immediately lost myself on buses and trains trying to end up in Tokyo. After five hours, this lonely forlorn adventurer needed a local friend and a drink. But that's what you'd expect if you don't read, write or speak the native tongue and refuse to join a tour. By the time I found the hotel, the thought of another sixteen days of the same made me ambivalent. Would I survive ?
This begins another of those long-winded travel logs. I'll keep them shorter and more objective this time. And I hope you'll enjoy reading these as much as I experienced them. Fasten your armchair's seatbelt and get ready for a typhoon travel-log of recklessness, wonder, violence, passion, misery, and self-discovery. earlj
author's aside: The original&intended readership of this series invariably knew me personally. We work in the same office building. This accounts for my presumptive tone throughout the series. Thus I must grant this for background: my parents are chinese and immigrated here from their birthplace, Guangzhou, China (aka Canton). I was born&raised in Los Angeles, the first american-born child of either side -- so my cultural roots are fresh, and I've a slight affinity for cantonese (vs. mandarin, the other spoken language of China). -- earlj 3/31/92
Japan is a jumble of fresh impressions and observations. Let me describe them; they may be interesting. I managed to visit during the monsoon raining season. The weather's warm, humid, and wet and everything's lushly green. On Mr. Toad's wild ride from Narita to Tokyo, I saw the 'Japan' outside of Tokyo.
Moderate populations were stuffed into lack-luster multi-unit concrete buildings amidst dense bamboo clumps, broadleaf forests, rolling hills and rice paddies. Small Buddhist shrines with glazed tile roofs were often seen. Many traditionally built homes/buildings were preserved uncharacteristically surrounded by spacious tailored gardens. Adjacent to these were grey, dull, but clean cement apartments jammed tightly together. They all looked alike. The colors of nature contrasted drearily against the black&white of civilization.
The moisture on the land kept everything looking fresh. The landscape seems to balance and compensate for their high population density. Thinking about the numbers living so closely and being so homogeneously cultivated left me in awe. But then again, think of the power this nation has as a result. Uniformity and conformity seem to be this society's theme.
When I finally arrived in Tokyo, my asianess allowed me to blend and become invisible. But the culture shock continued in spasms; it was the people, they were so different. I knew I was learning what books, films, and meeting visitors couldn't teach. And this'll be described in the next note about my visit to Asia.
For centuries, the people of Japan have managed to isolate themselves from the world, and recent generations are still infused with this tendency. Historically, they have successfully deterred marauders from invading their islands, and thus since the beginning of Japan's occupancy, the people have evolved untainted in genetic and cultural isolation.
Anthropologists theorize that if conditions such as these persist for long enough, a sub-species of man begins to evolve and adapt specifically for their circumstances. On a grander geographic and chronologic scale, physical isolation led to the evolution of races among Homo sapiens sapiens. Luckily, nomadic emmigration allowed inter-breeding and halted this part of Evolution. In the latter stages of human evolution though, culture and technology (C&T) began to determine what physical evolutionary changes became adaptive !!
Here'a a theoretical example. When hominids (early two-legged primates) were entirely vegetarian, their huge jaws were used for grinding raw plant nutrition. As time went on, tools were used to gather food, and then to kill other animals for food. When fire was used to cook the food, it became easier to eat. Their mouths and teeth did not need to be so powerful. As early man began to hunt together, communication among them became key.
Speech evolved from mouths that became more delicate; massive jaws made speech impossible. Speech communication allowed tool-making technologies to be passed-on, and further improved. And man began to live in larger groups until division of labor within a tribe created skilled specialists. Etc., etc. this is the theory of physical evolution in a grain of rice. Culture and technology began to determine physical evolution; C&T eventually advanced quicker than evolution, and we have today's civilization as the destiny of Man.
What does this have to do with Japan ? Isolation began to evolve a different breed and culture of man. Breed is in the genes, while culture is the environment. These are linked. Modern medical electroencephalographic studies comparing racial cultures have shown that the Japanese are the most unique and very different. One surprising study found that Japanese subjects derive much greater pleasure from being alone among lush and spacious gardens and the sounds of running water than any other racial culture.
Interesting, huh ? It's true.
Because of jet lag, I became a Tokyo night-owl. I wandered about the Shinjuku-wu section of the city, and absorbed the sights, sounds, and activities of an early morning weekend. This is what I noticed. They drive on the wrong side of the road, like the British. You must be very careful crossing streets, because by habit you look the wrong way for point scoring drivers. At stop signals, all drivers turn their headlights off until the signals turn green. And they happily steer from the starboard end of the front seat (American cars have steering wheels on the port side). Next, everything is smaller: the restaurants, restrooms, vending machines, cars and trucks, streets, residences, furniture, hotel rooms, and the people (sic).
There are unvandalized, lightly armored vending machines everywhere selling soda, cold coffee, beer, yogurt drinks, tea, mineral water, and fruit juices. Crime is not a problem; police on patrol were next to never seen. As I stroll by drinking establishments, many are full of men singing together or performing solo to background music. Most bar patrons work together and their company often covers the expenses. There are no raunchy and rowdy, scum-of-the-earth watering holes in Tokyo, and everyone's well-behaved.
Back to the people again. Anyone you see walking about is usually younger than 40, conservatively dressed alike, rarely solitary, and purposefully on-the-go. Obesity is never seen, and the level of health and cleanliness is superior to domestic America. Everyone appears to be middle-middle to upper-middle class socioeconomically. Was this really a caste society at one time, or is this just 'Tokyo' ? Eye-contact between passing strangers is nil, but I kept trying anyhow. A few young women would notice my smiling attention, and timidly return the favor. What a thrill ! Only an American male...
The people I meet are unerringly stereotypical: generally shy, soft-spoken, extremely cordial and patient, formal yet sincere, and refreshingly trustworthy and honest. Sadly, I did not find this again anywhere in Asia.
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I began to panic the day before I would leave Japan. I wanted to see more of Tokyo without going crazy. When you can't speak or read japanese, going somewhere means getting lost and trying to get back. Total anxiety !! So early Sunday morning, I squashed my ego and signed up for two tours. Starving as usual, I stumbled into a traditional Japanese restaurant. With attentive charm and sensuous grace, the hostess greeted me in japanese with a smile and a bow; I silently did the same and caught myself on weakening knees. My dark-side suggested she was likewise thrilled at meeting me; reality told me it was her job.
I was led to a hard black lacquered table with two chairs and flowers. The decor was organic, spacious, and spiced with artifacts of feudal Japan; panels of rough-sawn cedar lined each scented wall. They only offered one breakfast combination so I didn't need to fuss over a japanese-only menu. Briefly, the service began. The tea and then the food was presented in several 'ceremonies' as it appeared to me.
Seemingly, each waitress spoke and moved with eloquent, orchestrated precision. Each japanese word, each savory dish, had its proper time and place. I couldn't remember when tea, miso soup, and rice ever tasted this good. Or was it being so well served that heightened their flavors ? The small servings of fish, chicken, and pickled vegetables were tidbits of edible art, perfectly composed. The sights, scents, sounds, tastes and other sensations brought me to a new awareness, a presence of mind unrealized in America. This was a different kind of enjoyment, a different way of life.
Minutes after most of the service, a waitress started using english. My heart stopped; I was discovered. Pretending to be 'Japanese' eventually gives me away. Recovering, I asked her 'How did you know I was an American ?' She almost giggled, bowed and left. How did she know ?
From my broken reverie, I began to observe the other patrons. A large table with a dozen Japanese businessmen (wearing ties on Sunday) were openly oblivious of the service as they ate. Beside them, six young women in matching blouses and skirts did the same, though one noticed me watching them and mumbled something. In unison, all six glanced my way and giggled as I forced an embarassed smile. Crap !! Discovered again ? I wanted to die.
I ate while pitying myself in disgust, then fixedly wrote in my Daytimer. When I asked for the check, she told me it had been paid. What ?! The six women upon leaving also paid for mine !! I was shocked; it was very un-Japanese. Thanking each waitress in english, I rushed out to find the Generous 6.
I soon spied them waiting at a bus stop. When they saw me coming you would think I was Godzilla, they nearly died. In my finest english, I announced 'Thank you for paying for my breakfast. It was very good and very special. Is there anything I can do for any of you ?' The silence among the smiling stares lasted forever. My knees rebuckled as my dark-side suggested obscene possibilities. In meek and broken english, the boldest of them complimented me on my perfect use of english. I couldn't understand the rest in japanese, but their actions decisively urged my autograph.
My laughter was impulsive; I stopped when I noticed how it hurt them. Who did they think I was ? Wordlessly, I pulled six MDC business cards from my Daytimer. Signing the back, I presented a card to each deluded 'StarGazer'. Then I smiled and walked away. I hope I resembled some actor or rock musician, and not their version of Charles Manson. By now they know that I'm just an American imposter.
The tours were wonderful, informative, time-efficient, and a real bargain. Don't pass up these deals unless you have a personal guide. Without anxiety, I saw many places and cherished the tour guide's english. I now have well founded respect for the Japanese culture. |
