Second Sunday

As soon as I woke up today, I slopped together some clothing, ran a brush through my hair, and hurried out into the cold morning air. It was all in the name of journalism: I wanted to photograph my neighborhood in the gentle morning light. However I do enjoy being out and about on quiet mornings. And quiet it was. Japan may be a driven, performance-oriented place, but not at 7am on a Sunday. I shivered my way down the street, snapping furtive photos of interesting buildings, trying to capture the flavor of the place for my readers. 

It is a nice neighborhood, though it is an odd alternation between packed, grubby apartment buildings and shiny ‘five-star’ living. Literally, there is the “Five Star Takanawa” apartment just down the street. There are also some modest houses. The roads are narrow and petite, like so many in Tokyo. Sprawling 3-laned boulevards and expressways make up the skeleton of the city, but these little winding byways fan across Tokyo like veins.

Our apartment building (below right) is one of the grubbier buildings, but it isn’t packed tight like some of the others. It almost seems as if it’s been grandfathered in, because it sits opposite an exclusive gated community (I’m not even kidding--we see chauffeured cars roll past sometimes). There’s one magnificent tree next to our building (see below right). As my roommate Aki put it, one tree can make a big difference. Crows roost in it often. But mostly it’s just a nice chunk of green.

We’re also right next to a temple with a graveyard. It occurred that maybe that’s why they put such an affordable gaijin house here! Japanese culture is notoriously superstitious about ghosts, and the rest of the graveyard is bordered by parking lots and little bits of trees. However, I've noticed a lot of little cemetaries crammed in between houses throughout the city. It's quite different.

The apartment itself has ‘a touch of mange about it,’ but it’s quite comfortable. I am even a little cautious about calling it Spartan, because this is apparently luxurious living for a Tokyo daigakusei (college student). It even has more amenities (and a little more space?) than my L.A. digs. It’s wonderfully quiet too--nearly as quiet as my Westchester place. It would be, if it weren’t for the law school boys downstairs. At least they’re kind of entertaining: you should see their risible attempts to hook me up with one of their shy roommates. ^_^

A middle-aged Londoner lives across the hall from us. His name’s Tony Tapper (which sounds amazing in his accent--positively Dickensian) and he’s quite kind. On my very first day here, my roommate wasn’t home, and he drew me an elaborate map to make sure I got to the housing office in Shinjuku so I could get my key.

The indefinable camaraderie of ‘morning people’ is apparently universal. When I reached the charming little neighborhood park (above), it was nearly empty. A small coterie of older men were huddled around a bench a little ways off; surely village regulars. I wandered into the park, eyeing my prize: a blooming tree, one of the hearty few at this time of year. It is lovely. I couldn’t really capture it in photos, but I tried. Half of the tree was bare, but for a few crinkly red leaves still clinging to the slender branches. The other half had a sprinkling of lovely little white blossoms, and the branches were filled with little buds.

A kindly old man saw me admiring the blossoms, and we had a brief exchange in simple Japanese. He told me they were “ueno hana ume”--I didn’t recognize the word ‘ueno’ as anything other than a place name (see ‘Ueno Park’ entry ^_^), but according to an online dictionary, it can mean ‘first.’ I did know that ‘hana’ means flower and ‘ume’ is a type of Asian apricot. Indeed, umeboshi, pickled apricots, are a delicious traditional food that happens to be sitting in my fridge right now. So I responded, “Ah, like umeboshi!” Which made him smile. He pointed out another tree in the park, a sakura (cherry blossom). We agreed that we were looking forward to April. We commented on how early and pretty the blossoms were, but then we both got really cold (the old man gestured to his ears, but for me it was my fingers that were about to fall off) so we parted ways.

Most of my readers are probably aware of the prominence of the sakura in Japanese culture; come April, a third of the trees in the city will erupt with little pink blossoms, and hanami will begin. Hanami is the 1000-year-old tradition of ‘flower-viewing.’ There are many flower festivals across Japan, throughout the year--festivals to celebrate plums, peaches, chrysanthemums, and many others. But the sakura hanami is a universal phenomenon. Every year ther’s a ‘flower-watch’ on the national news, meteorologists and botanists diligently tracking and forecasting the spread of the blooms. So what does one do at a hanami party? Well, first one sets out a lovely picnic blanket; then one unpacks some elegant, healthy and delicious bento… and then you get falling-down drunk. Apparently, Hanami is really just an extra-classy excuse to get plastered by 10am. It’s like this, except outside:

To be frank… I can’t wait! I’m gonna bang on my rice-bowl with my chopsticks and it’ll be awesome. [NB: Japan’s drinking culture is the single fact that can explain the phenomenon of karaoke. According to many, many jidaigeki this nerd has seen, musical drunkenness is a revered tradition]

Anyway, I love little conversations like the one I had in the park--it’s my favorite thing about Tokyo. For such a big city, people really are very friendly and obliging. You’re expected to follow certain codes of behavior, and share certain values, which seem pretty homogenized from my background. But shared values and predictable behavior become a sort of social lubricant--there’s a sort of trust that becomes possible. Well, the extremely strict laws and enforcement also add to that. I see children, even in the nicer neighborhoods, walking or biking around by themselves.

For all who are curious, here are a few more photos of my neighborhood and my apt:

This is a totally shibui house down the street from us--it's completely covered in vines.

This is the entrance we use.

Our kitchen. Check out all the counter space. ^_^

The toaster oven on top is my new best friend. I put meat and veggies in tin foil, stick em in there, and that's how I eat.

This is the half of my room that isn't bed...

... and this is the half that is.

State-of-the-art desk.

Elegant boudoir. [note the hanger-holder--a clever dollar-store gadget]

That's the tour, folks.

I'll tell you about my scandalous weekend adventures when I've finished my homework [i.e., next month].  ^_^