Revisiting the Past: Kitasenju

Recently, spurred by the desire to try a great Thai place which appeared on one of our current drama obsessions (Kodoku no Gurume), Matcha-kun and I ended up at Kitasenju.

To tell the truth, I had tried to ignore this (admittedly blameless) area for a good long while. When passing through the station on my way to my koto lessons, I whisked from one line to the next, and never left the station.

The reason is silly, but not entirely. Several years ago, I actually stayed in Kitasenju for about a week. I was in Japan to job hunt and visit my then-significant other. As Kitasenju is out of the way, and home to a lot of Tokyo's day laborer population, the lodging was really cheap. 

This was not a great time in my life. I was in grad school in London, so doing the long distance thing with my SO, and having absolutely no luck finding a job that would take me back to Japan. 

As the SO was also busy, I ended up spending a lot of time running around for interviews, then walking around alone. My last 2 days in the city were spent rambling about, missing this person who had been 'forbidden' (!!!) to spend the evenings with me... mostly because his parents were afraid he would get plastered right before his first day of work. 

Eventually he did show up on the eve of my departure, after his first day at work. Drunk after a welcome party for new recruits... not a good state. One of my major issues with him was his inability to stop drinking at a reasonable point, so you can imagine how upset this made me.

All in all, the whole mess left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. And I guess it made me irrationally dislike Kitasenju.

How different things are now. Exploring the long shoutengai shopping streets hand in hand with Matcha-kun, I could literally feel my heart lift. This place now has new memories affixed to it, the dark aura it had in my mind is gone.

Perception is a funny thing. The things, places and people we thought were so perfect or pursued so assiduously actually turn out not to be what actually makes us happy.

The total shitamachi-ness of Kitasenju now can actually speak to me. The long street with colorful hand-painted shutters, the cute little cafes and bars, the calls of merchants purveying everything from snacks to futon. During that visit I couldn't even see it.

But now I can. Forgive me Kitasenju, let's be friends.

Akihabara: Land of the Weird

Last week I fulfilled the oddest work assignment I have had to date: attending an Alice Project 地下アイドル('underground idol') live show, and writing a review about it. Suffice to say, this was not your average AKB48 show. On the 7th floor of a Pasela building in Akihabara, I stepped into an odd world populated by girls in hockey masks wielding colorful chainsaws, girls in Wizard of Oz costumes and others in fake armor singing over remixed versions of Irish folk tunes. And don't forget the fans...

As an ethnomusicologist I am familiar with the fan culture surrounding idols, but have never seen it up close. I do have to say that they are extremely respectful, taking turns approaching the stage to whoop and call out to their favorite idol... but it was truly odd. Seeing them all sit on the floor when the girls were talking (in typical, high-pitched kawaii fashion) was quite a sight.

After the live show, I was taken around a few of the major maid cafes run by one of our clients. Yet more high-pitched voices and pouting ('Master, Milady, are you leaving already?!'). I did my utmost not to give into my desire to scream about the effects of sexualizing infantilized women, but it was a close thing.

As I walked back to Iwamoticho station, slightly dazed, I came across the highlight of my night: a congregation of weird vending machines.

Just in case you suddenly need a jar of assorted bells, a toy train or yakitori in a can. Some of the items on sale had been taken from their original packaging and placed into plastic jars (like the chocolate soccer balls and candy above).

I don't know if this is someone's personal hobby, or something set up for a clientele that doesn't like to interact with others much (perhaps hikikumori?). But, if you find yourself in Akiba late at night and need an aroma candle, a can of oden or a pack of emergency rations, this odd little corner awaits your patronage.

Sundays in the Shitamachi: Arakawa Line

The charming little Arakawa line is one of Tokyo's hidden gems. An old-fashioned tram, it snakes (very slowly) from around Waseda all through the shitamachi, before ending up Minowabashi.

The trams themselves are a bit of a mishmash, with modern streetcars mixed in with adorable older models, all papered on the inside with advertisements that seem to have remained the same since late Showa. 

The tracks are tightly sandwiched between houses and shopping streets, the little free space often taken over by impromptu gardens of roses and hydrangeas. In short, a nostalgia buff's idea of heaven. 

After buying a cheap all-day pass (only 400 yen, yay!), we jumped on near Ikebukuro and headed towards Sugamo.

Sugamo also happens to be known as 'Grandma's Harajuku', with the average age appearing to be somewhere around 60-70. The long shopping street, which is quite close to Koshinzuka station, is well-stocked with tea, old-style breads and snacks, along with the famous shops purveying bright red underwear (said to promote health...by what means, I choose to not inquire).

Our first stop, inspired by Matcha-kun's desire for coffee, was at a little wood paneled coffee shop, across from a crazy umbrella store. The iced coffee came in tall, brass goblets. Perhaps not the most convenient vessel, but certainly an entertaining one, ideal for proposing silly, caffeine-fueled toasts.

After checking out Asukayama park, with its fanciful playground and fun concrete elephant, we headed back towards town (and dinner). The final stop of the day was at Zoshigaya cemetery. Thanks to the tradition of cremation (ie. no zombies), Japanese cemeteries hold no fear for me, and in fact are a special favorite for walks, checking out unusual tombs and the giant cats that often populate them.

While a whole bunch of famous historical figures are buried here, I cam looking for two in particular. Ogino Ginko (the first female doctor in Japan) and Natsume Soseki (the famous writer). Sadly, despite checking maps and roaming back and forth, we couldn't find John Manjiro (one of the first Japanese people to visit the United States) whom Matcha-kun wished to visit... perhaps his spirit wasn't interested in guests right then?

Nihonbashi to Ningyocho: Business in the Shitamachi

In preparation for the Olympics, Tokyo is getting major face-lifts. Nihonbashi, which used to be a shabby but well-beloved shitamachi haunt has now been invaded by the Coredo shopping centres. While they are tastefully wa, and house some interesting traditional shops (for example crafts made using gold leaf from Kanazawa), this is not the Nihonbashi I remember.

Much of the shitamachi is home to traditional Japanese industry. By this I don't just mean artistic crafts (old style umbrellas, lacquerware, wood working) but also businesses that cater exclusively to the Japanese market. Walking from Nihonbashi to Ningyocho you find purveyors of those iconic OL uniforms, small workshops manufacturing a very specific part for kotatsu heaters, printers of promotional uchiwa fans.

The longer I live and work in Japan, the more I have come to realize that there are two business models that do very well here: either be extremely local or go completely global. The interesting thing is that the actual size of the business is irrelevant. Companies that deal with business globally are usually thought of being ginormous corporations... and yet there are tiny 3D printing specialists or app creators in Tokyo that have dedicated customers on every continent. On the other hand Japan Rail, the queen of the 'super local', is massive.

The old and the new coexist peacefully. Although I am often annoyed and flummoxed by how slow business can be here, it comes with some benefits. People will hang on to traditions for dear life, even if they are the last ones chugging along. Even when it is not profitable. Companies are often loath to leave their suppliers, who they have known for decades, in the lurch. While business-wise I fully understand this does not make sense, on a human level it is kind. 

Sometimes I think resistance to change, in Japan, can be a strategy of its own.

In Ningyocho there is a traditional sweets parlor called Hatsune. It has stood in the same spot since 1837, purveying old fashioned anko and jelly desserts, along with traditional kakigori (the type topped with green tea and red beans, or syrupy preserved apricots). They make tea in a cast iron tea urn, which is both time consuming and easy to burn oneself on while bustling past, just because it tastes a bit better.

Time does not stand entirely still at Hatsune, but their dedication to the old has served them well, as the competition for seats is fierce. Well-to-do ladies in expensive summer kimono (obviously regulars, from the chit-chat) smile benevolently at younger customers and the unusual Japanese/foreign couple at the table next to them.

The global and the local sit companionably side-by-side, over ice and tea.

YaNeSen

My good friend from grad school, Dutchy, came and visited me over the summer, after her internship in Korea ended. While work was quite busy, I managed to take a bit of time off to go exploring with her, and introduce her to some of my fave places in Tokyo and Yokohama.

Naturally YaNeSen was a must see, so we wandered about taking pictures of temples and munching tofu tsukune (le yum). Here and there we encountered some of the ginormous cats that populate the graveyard, including one with a taste for sacred water.

Kakigori is the best thing to revive yourself after a long walk in the summer heat. Even the kitsune from the shrine seemed to be asking for a cool wind.

Long Weekends: Adventures in the City

Three-day weekends are the best. It is so great to get to Sunday evening, and whilst mentally preparing for work the following day realize: 'Hey, tomorrow is a holiday! Woohoo!'. While often these are perfect for a quick getaway, spending time in the city is equally great. My recipe for a perfect long weekend includes the following.

 

*Brunch. Possibly the best meal ever invented (although it may be on par with second breakfast). Matcha-kun has recently discovered the joy that is brunch, and so all recent outings have included some form of this glorious repast. The start of this culinary love affair was going to Bubby's in Sakuragicho. Beware, for their dishes are not only delicious, but also fully American-sized. I ordered eggs Benedict with spinach and the special blueberry compote pancakes, which was probably enough for two people... however I scoffed it all with delight.  

Just for good measure, I feel that I should also mention Bake Shop in Jiyugaoka. Since it is hidden on the 4th floor of one of the many oshare buildings, it is actually possible to walk in around noon and get a table. Matcha-kun went for another round of eggs Benedict, while I had the tasty huevos rancheros and a banana-yogurt smoothie, Le yum.

*Walkies. While trying to fit in all the weekend activities, plus doing all those essential little things one never finds time for during the week (like laundry), sometimes you just can't fit in a truly leisurely stroll. On Monday I introduced a friend to the YaNeSen area, and managed to find a few new treasures. After lunch at Yakuzen Curry (which I have written about before), we waltzed about and eventually ran into an adorable washi store, Isetatsu. They specialize in Edo style prints, and the interior is a total riot of color.

*Cooking. This long weekend happened to occur right before Valentine's Day, so Wave-chan was in full sweets production mode. I got to try the rejected cakes (oh, how I suffer) and helped her wrap up her order for a wedding (aren't the little flowers adorable?). Since the object of my affection is not a fan of sweets, I decided a homemade bento would be better appreciated.

Hidden Tokyo: Sing It Out

The subcultures, musical minorities and oddities in any society cannot survive in the major congestion zones. The niche-ness of their audience cannot generate enough income to rent land in Shibuya, Shinjuku or Marunouchi.So they move to the sidelines of the city. Like Iriya.

Most specifically, the minyo osakaba (folk song bars) of Iriya. Off towards the post-Ueno end of the Hibiya line, it was not a place I ever expected to get out of the station. However, when you get an invitation to go hang out with one of the great ethnomusicologists specialized in Japan, you do not say no.

So out of the station I skipped, just to be confronted with the soaring bulk that is the Skytree, which shines and looms over the area like a futuristic redwood, half-hidden by the clouds. The first stop on this adventure was Asakusa Oiwake, perhaps one of the most famous and accessible minyo bars. After beating a drum to announce your presence, you crawl up a flight of stairs into a tatami room with a tiny stage area, surrounded by shamisen, drums and plaques with the names and allegiances of the various musicians (who also double as waiters).

I got to hang out with several of my graduate school professors, along with a random bunch of other people. The show itself was great, a mix of folk songs from Tohoku, along with a couple dances (naturally performed by the youngest, cutest lad in the troupe) and some serious tsugaru shamisen showing-off. But the really neat part is that patrons can then come up to sing their favorite minyo live, accompanied by the musicians. As there are several thousand different songs, with various regional variations (and no scores) it is a pretty impressive feat.

After a couple hours and rounds of sake, it was time to move on to Midori... which even D-Sensei said was more of a 'cultural experience'... intriguing! Down a block and several slalom-ing side streets, only distinguished by a small board, Midori is owned by one of the best minyo musicians and singers in Japan, and named after his wife, who is also an astounding singer.



I am pretty much incapable of singing minyo (with the exception of Okinawa's Asadoya Yunta), as the amount of vocal fold destruction necessary makes my operatically-trained soul shiver, but I must admit it is a fascinating bit of culture, all the better as it comes served with tasty side dishes (spicy eggplant) and endless rounds of beer and sake.

Unsteady on our feet, and seeking a taxi to Uguisudani, we came across the oddly named place above (which roughly translates to: Under?stand). After much deliberation, we came to the consensus that it is either a question store, or a place people go to listen to incredibly convoluted diatribes about nuclear physics... or the cleaning habits of muskrats... or zoroastrianism. Mysterious Iriya.



A Sunday in Summer: Asagaya

August is Obon, fireworks and barbecues by stream and sea. It is also ghosts, sudden cooling downpours reminiscent of a negligent plant owner suddenly remembering to water his plants, and men in yukata... especially men in yukata.
And here I am, with my usual sense of timing, searching for places, plans and discounted tickets that would allow me to see everyone, have a bit of solo travel time, and not cost an arm and a leg... during one of the busiest travel times of the year.

Currently I am trying to figure out how to use the 3 day JR Kanto pass (which can be purchased by anyone with a non-Japanese passport, even if you have a visa!) to the best advantage, to hit up Karuizawa, perhaps Nagano, perhaps Shimoda, and then get myself to Nasu for a couple days of glorious Tochigi-ness... aah, the joy of norihoudai train tickets!

But enough of that, and onwards with yukata and festivals, specifically the Asagaya Tanabata Festival, with its crazy papier-mache constructions and flying takoyaki (ok, so the flying takoyaki were my own fault... that will teach me to ever wear white anywhere... and thank goodness I took pictures earlier!)

The giant alpaca and collection of crazy kitties were my favorite. Like all Tokyo festivals it was pretty crowded, but the bright colours and tasty treats made up for it (and I  learned a valuable lesson about how to get takoyaki sauce out of a white yukata). The shoutengai where the festival was held is very long, and full of interesting little stores, including a shamisen shop and a Baskin Robbins (or '31', as it is known here). I have not had BR since the age of 9, and decided it was time for a rapprochement (the Love Potion 31 flavour is amazing!).

Once the crowding got to be too much, we escaped for a couple glasses of sangria at a strange little place called Don Tsucchi, which may well be one of the narrowest 'watalian' (Wa plus Italian) joints I have ever been in. And it turned out to be the perfect place to watch my favorite part of August stroll by (aka the afore-mentioned yukata-clad gentlemen), to the amusement of the one sitting next to me.

Because, seriously, I have yet to see a guy who doesn't suddenly get a coolness upgrade by slipping on a yukata. That is the glorious thing about national costumes, they are meant to fit and flatter the basic body type of that country. The wide sleeves broaden shoulders, obi nip in waists and hug the fabric in all the right places. Geta (for those who know how to walk in them) give a bit of a swagger. And good lord does Matcha-kun look good in wafuku... now I just have to convince him to try a hakama...

A Saturday in the Shitamachi: Hakusan and Yanaka

A day of sun! Let the weather gods be praised for this break in the festival of downpours that is Japan's rainy season, which gave me a chance to go see the ajisai at Hakusan Shrine (with matching nails, no less!) Behold the glorious riot of pastel colours!

Thanks to the huge number of temples and shrines, most of the little streets of Bunkyo-ku seem to be redolent of incense, as well as gloriously quiet. As much as I enjoy the sparkling, oshare areas of Tokyo, hanging out in Yanesen seems to be truly good for the soul.

The kakigori at Himitsutou are really fabulous, since they do not use the common, awful sugary syrup. We tried the yogurt with amanatsu and the akashiso ones, and they were fantastic! Not too sweet, with the true flavours of the toppings coming through, and the ice is shaved with a hand-powered apparatus from the Showa era. I have officially changed my mind about kakigori.

Lunch was unfortunately both pricy and disappointing, and after wandering about a bit more we ended up at a matcha place right near the beginning of Yanaka Ginzan, semi-hidden by the stairs. The brown rice choux with sesame cream and matcha cream were impressive, and the matcha latte so strong that I may not sleep tonight!