This post is, besides being my first in a long time, is in honor of the reincarnation of the Japan Blog Matsuri! A special thanks to Nick for bringing the matsuri back to life and also to Shane, as this shindig is graciously being hosted at her blog, The Tokyo Traveler. The theme of this matsuri is “Impressions of Tokyo,” which is a good topic that should give us some memorable posts! Here is mine:
The Big Mikan
Tokyo was the first big city I had ever been to. I’m from a rather modestly sized city in the upper midwest of the US and if my calculations are correct you could fit more than a couple of my city into Tokyo’s combined 23 wards. I was initially amazed at how far the city stretched as opposed to the puny place I arrived from. As I started to read more and more about the city, I came across characteristics that many say define Tokyo, for example: the nodal layout of Tokyo, the mixing of old and new, the cosmopolitan nature of Tokyo’s trend consuming citizens, etc. I started to think that perhaps writing about Tokyo was a difficult thing as it seems Tokyo has been examined, dissected, probed and prodded just as much as New York, Paris, and London.
So the question became: “How could one give their impressions of Tokyo without rehashing what has already been said?” Writing about personal experiences in a city of Tokyo’s stature has already been done to death, but my thought is that personal stories about meeting Tokyoites, save the stories involving nama beer, strange girls and a karaoke kan, seem to me to be my best shot of giving my impression of this city and its people.
Serious Jiji
One of my fondest memories of Tokyo is really just a series of short interactions over the course of my first semester abroad with an older gentleman employed at my home station’s convience store. Brilliant angle, huh? I would stop in just about everyday for “breakfast” (i.e. two salmon onigiri) and something to drink. At the counter waiting on customers was this smallish man who must have been in his late 60s or early 70s, though of course you can never really tell. He usually had a pretty proud look on his face; just enough to let you know he was ”the boss” though not to the point that you’d think he was looking down on you.
Anyways, I’d put my stuff down, he’d scan it and I’d then pay. Usually that wouldn’t be anything worth noting, but you see, this Ojiisan, rugged pride aside, wasn’t your typical Ojiisan. He’d hand me back my change and, in perfect English, tell me the amount of my change. This took all of 2 minutes or so, but the look on his face while he told me my change was always very serious. You must understand this: serious jiji is serious indeed.
I knew that I couldn’t falter in my response. I thought to myself that this was clearly a ritual that must be paid (no pun intended) much respect and it was my part to reply with as courteous a phrase as my feeble vocabulary allowed. I would reply with 「お世話様でした」 (osewasama deshita) which, from my understanding, is a ridiculously polite thing you say when people, usually strangers, do something very kind for you. In all I think it was out of place for such a seemingly insignificant interaction, but I think he liked it. Serious Jiji taught me that in Tokyo even a grandpa working at the local konbini can give you some surprises.
The Homeless Poet
Another one of my favorite memories from my year of studying in Japan took place in Ueno. Ueno seems to be one of the few places that is under-appreciated by the expat set as a hang out spot, which I suppose makes it a perfect place to hang out in some regards. (No, really..) At any rate, a friend of mine had decided to do his final on Koban (police box) architecture and said he was going off to Ueno, because he knew of some very strangely designed koban there (Ueno is where many of Japan’s most important museums are located). So another friend of ours and I decided to join him. After a quick jaunt through Ameyokocho, a former black market during the post-war years that has become one of Tokyo’s most well known bazaars, we decided to search for these koban. On our search we came across one of the few temples and jinja (shinto shrines) that are also located in Ueno.
Enter Maxwell Kimmerson: quadrilingual poet, North Korean immigrant, world traveler and, in his words, a lot like “a little baby Jesus.” This is not fiction, this is not a joke, Maxwell Kimmerson is very much real. We came across Maxwell, whose name is one of the most “iconic”, if not campy, nom de plume I have ever heard, as he was taking a nap on a bench near the shrine. He was drawn to our presence almost right away and started, what I am guessing have been rehearsed many times before, his rants about life. Did I mention that Maxwell Kimmerson, professed fan of Emerson (you didn’t see the coming?), was also an anti-Japanese activist? Yeah, figures right?
His message was simple: “Right country, right woman, right shoes.” On the state of nations, Max spoke of the problems facing the West, American specifically, by decrying the lack of culture in the States. He said we don’t suffer enough therefore we do not have any culture. Of his “second home” he said that “The Japanese are smiling robots that don’t mean what they say.” adding, “And don’t get involved with Japanese women, they are like time bombs.” I’m sure my girlfriend would not like to hear that. He finished by calling Japan an “asylum nation.” I wasn’t very sure what he meant by that given his status as a immigrant from North Korea, but make of it what you will. When asked about the last of his “three rights” he said “Good shoe culture (?) is important because they are what we always have on our feet.” For some reason at the time I thought that was rather profound.
My meeting with Maxwell was like speaking with a living anachronism. Perhaps in another time he would have been a respected man of letters instead of a migrant worker staying in Tokyo until it was time to go north to Aomori and harvest apples again. Though he was a bit angsty, as a good poet should be, he didn’t seem bitter or down about his lot in life. I tried to read through his poetry, but as I don’t speak French I didn’t get far. I’ve never met an individual like himself and I probably never will. Don’t ignore Tokyo’s homeless, because they have their stories as well. You can learn a lot from them.
Find Tokyo
Despite what people may say about Tokyo or Japan for that matter, it is not a homogeneous place. People are varied and come from all walks of life. It is too easy to write or speak about Tokyo in broad strokes and anyone who spends more than a week’s time in Tokyo will tell you that there is a lot to experience here besides the girls outside of Meiji Jingu or the Tokyo Tower. It may be hard for some to believe but there is way more to Tokyo than Roppongi and Shibuya. Those places are great, but they are also the easiest sites to see and require almost zero personal investment on your part. My challenge to you is this: go out and talk to a stranger. Even if you come to Tokyo for just a short while, start a friendly relationship with the local ramen purveyor, join a taiko drum or matsuri group or stop for a chat with the local yatai owner. You’ll learn more about Tokyo than you ever could by reading the latest edition of the Tokyo Lonely Planet guide. Meet the people; it is the easiest way to truly find Tokyo.
This post is in memory of Kellen Joseph who is seen standing on Maxwell’s left. Kellen recently passed away and will be sorely missed.
