My cup of tea: history & culture

Look away if it's not yours...don't worry, we can still be friends.

My family knows a museum is usually on my itinerary.  Neither a wailing, squirming 9-month old Sophie in a baby carrier nor an adult abled-bodied doctor were obstacles.  They dare not risk the evil dragon stares and accompanying destructive fire.

On this trip, without these encumbrances, naturally you would expect me to binge on museums.  Curiously, that did not happen, although I did consider buying the Grutto Pass for only JPY 2200 which allowed free or discounted entrances to EIGHTY THREE museums in the Greater Tokyo area.  Japanese love museums too!  (...maybe a bit too much, though...)

However, on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, upon exiting the station near my apartment and finding myself facing the prospect of being partially drenched by the heavy rain (note to self: get one of those large transparent umbrellas that all Tokyo-ites use), I bought a ticket on a whim to the Edo Tokyo Museum located just outside the station.  I planned to spend no more than 2 hours, expecting the rain to have subsided by that time.  Fast forward 3.5 hours later, I was chased out when they closed the museum.

First, a lunch of Japanese curry chicken & gizzard at Mikasa just outside the museum to fuel up for the visit. It was more gizzard than chicken, though.  Gizzards and I are fated to be together during this trip.... :(

The museum presents the history of Edo from its establishment as a major political, and later, commercial center, after Tokugawa Ieyasu triumphed at the Battle of Sekigahara (1600) to become the next shogun, and its evolution to Tokyo today.  I spent way too much time in the Edo sections, and power-walked through the Tokyo sections.  But then again, I have always found historical times much more fascinating than modern times. 

Tokugawa Ieyasu, founder of the Tokugawa shogunate which ruled for 265 years up to the Meiji Restoration in 1868.  During this period, Japan went through self-imposed isolation (sakoku 鎖国) which allowed many traditions and arts to develop without the previous Chinese and Korean influences, thus creating the unique Japanese culture we know today

One example is the kabuki.  I can definitely sense traces of the Chinese opera in the gestures and flow of the dialogue (see my experience at the Kabuki-za below), but there is no doubt this stands on its own as a Japanese art

I was very curious about the story, and excited to see the title of this poster, "Summary of Sukeroku's story".  It tells me that it is a revenge story, a special performance for Edo people, and has cool costumes and crisp sound of the actor's voice.  And that's it  >:(  Talk about suspense.  Japan needs to improve its signage for international visitors...

The coolest thing about the Edo sections are these diorama that have so much detail in them, from the expressions, to tools and clothes.

Nihonbashi bridge

Residential area of commoners, commonly found around Nihonbashi area

How cute is that?? Kawaii!!

Reconstruction of the ohiroma, matsu-no-roka and shiroshoin rooms at Edo Castle (part of today's Tokyo Imperial Palace).  These were used for meetings with daimyo (warlords), generals, and to stage Noh theatre. 

Merchants at the Nihonbashi area.  Each merchant sat on a spot below a banner bearing their name and which hung from the ceiling.  The merchants displayed samples of their products to customers over a raised tatami dais.

Mitsukoshi (predecessor of Mitsui Group, and now part of the Isetan Mitsukoshi group of companies) also set up shop here, pioneering "cash transactions" which brought great success.  Prior to that, merchants would take orders from its customers (usually from high class families) before producing the goods and collecting payment.  Mitsukoshi made the products first, and then sold them directly at his shop for cash.   

Side view of the above.  The details were just unbelievable...My iPhone camera cannot do it justice

That's where I would be hanging out during the Edo period: a bookshop :D

As I said, I spent too much time living in the distant past, and so there's only this picture of "recent" times.  But it's the best!  Game & Watch!  The ORIGINAL Nintendo!! 

My siblings will melt if they see this...those days when we my brother would cycle out to the neighbourhood video rental shop to rent one of these sets to play Bubble Bobble, Super Mario, etc, during our school holidays....awww...

For some odd reason, kabuki kept popping up on my radar these few days.  I had planned to check it out, but it had dropped to the bottom of my to-do list since I arrived.  Then it popped up in my textbook, then a friend suggested I go and watch it, then a whole stage materialized in front of me at the Edo Tokyo Museum.  So, again, on a whim (that's real freedom that I'm really enjoying right now - thanks, YL!), I decided to pay a visit to Kabuki-za today.

It's the principal theatre for kabuki plays in Tokyo

Flashy architecture in the middle of drab homogeneous buildings of the business district of Ginza

Kabuki plays run for 4-5 hours (not a typo) over 3-4 acts.  The matinee show starts at 11am and ends after 3pm, while the evening one starts at 4:30pm and ends after 8:30pm.  There is a break for lunch or dinner, and some patrons purchase food to eat at their seats.  It's also a classy affair for the locals as they come dressed in their kimonos with their hair done up and immaculate make up.

Because I'm not classy nor rich (the best seats costs JPY 20,000), and probably not very cultured as far as the Japanese goes, I went for a single act.  Depending on the act, it costs between JPY 500 - JPY 2000 for an act that lasts between 15 minutes to 2 hours.  Single act tickets can only be bought on the same day, and at the box office.

I arrived around 20 minutes before the box office opened for the 4:30pm act, and was 7th in line, next to these 2 Japanese senior folks, and a few foreign tourists. 

The line quickly built up after that.  But as with all things Japanese, there was a very organized and dignified manner in which the queue was managed.  They brought out wooden benches covered with red felt each time the queue grew.  

Everyone were given brochures and instructions on how and when to buy tickets, tips for souvenirs, gossip about the lead actor, ideal tea to drink during the break, etc.  That's my guess because all they had in English was a sign with "Before 4:05pm" written on it, which they waved ever so gently at the group of foreigners. 

They did have English summaries for the acts, though.  But still no clue about that long animated 10-minute speech... 

In any case, I paid JPY 500 for a 15-minute act titled "Goemon at the Temple Gate". 

Summary provided by the theatre: Though short, this play is one of the most visually spectacular in kabuki.  The famous villain Ishikawa Goemon is sitting on top of the large gate of Nanzenji temple enjoying the view of cherry blossoms in full bloom.  His enjoyment of the scene is cut short, however, for the general Hisayoshi (the shogun Toyotomi Hideyoshi) who has killed both his adopted and biological fathers appears.  

This is the act, as my finger helpfully points out.

I was in luck, as this month is the special performance with an all-star cast to mark the 130th year of the opening of the Kabukiza Theatre.  Both the famous stars mentioned in the marketing blurb - Onoe Kikugoro and Nakamura Kichiemon - appeared in the act I watched, short as it was.

Inside the theatre hall.  The single act ticket holders are confined to the last 2 rows at the back of the hall.  There were a good mix of tourists and locals.  The lady who sat next to me was a local who was very excited to be there.  She chatted to me in Japanese - it happens to me a lot here - while I politely nodded with appreciative sounds like "hai, hai, soo, soo..."  

The problem with me is that I speak enough basic rudimentary Japanese to seem like a local.  I should just start speaking English every time.  But it saddens me to see the disappointed surprise on their faces when they discover I'm not local.  So let the masquerade continue... 

Of course, there is no way I could understand kabuki; I suspect even the locals don't.  So I paid JPY 500 for this translator, which is really yen well spent.  It explains the lyrics, dialogue, and even the scene setup.  Thanks to it, the 15 minutes' act really came alive for me.  Highly recommended! (sorry, my grammar is beginning to sound Japanese)

School(s) & an unexpected outing

In order to reduce the guilt of taking a month off, I enrolled myself in an intensive Japanese language class.  So now, instead of exploring Tokyo all day, I attend classes in the mornings, and explore in the afternoons & evenings .... life is so unfair!  (≧∇≦)

Since my arrival 10 days ago (already!? where did the time go?), however, I have been so busy exploring - as you can read from my blog posts - that the first week of class flew by in a whirl.  I have some vague recollections of conjugations, past plain forms, kanji, interrogatives, etc.  Yeah, I have no idea what they are, neither.

The break area and my classroom

My classmates at the language school are a most diverse and interesting bunch.  There's an American retiree who plans to cycle all the way from Kyushu in the south to Hokkaido in the north, another British retiree from Oxford University who plans to travel throughout Japan with his family, an Italian digital marketing consultant who works with Japanese clients, a Ghana-ian accountant who will be helping out with his uncle's business in Japan, a Sri Lankan housewife whose husband has been posted to a bank in Tokyo, a German aeronautical engineer who is taking a sabbatical year off (with 75% pay!!... I need to look into starting up this benefit at my next company) to improve his aikido, an Indian national whose Japanese wife decided to return home, a Singaporean fresh graduate on her gap year, and me, a Malaysian middle-age tai-tai wannabe on a mid-life crisis :D 

Most of them have been taking lessons together for at least a month, and I was the newcomer to the group, but they readily included me in their activities.

Here we are, a bunch of gaijin (foreigners), after lunch at an udon shop located on the 3rd floor of a swanky office building near the school

The staff must be used to hearing - and understanding - stuttering Japanese from the language students.  They also learned some stock English phrases to help out the genuinely hopeless: Which one? Big or small?

Some of my classmates wanted to see the Yasukuni Shrine which was in the neighbourhood.  Some parts of me are curious to see it, though I had originally not intended to visit.  While I do not place blame on the entire country for what happened during WW II, obviously (otherwise, I would not have studied Japanese or chosen to be here during my career break), it does not mean that I am comfortable visiting a place that honours those who were involved.  

In any case, I joined everyone for a stroll through the peaceful grounds of the shrine.  It is the ONE place in Tokyo where you will NOT find any Chinese or Korean tourist groups.

Entrance to the Yasukuni Shrine

It was built in 1869, and today enshrines those who "sacrificed themselves for their mother country"

Besides the shrine, there is also a museum detailing the various conflicts in which Japan was involved such as the Sino-Japanese War, the Russo-Japanese War, the Greater East Asia War (WWII), artefacts from civilians and the military, as well as weapons including locomotives and the (in)famous Zero plane fighter. 

I opted to sit in the shade and chatted with the girls while the boys admired the plane and received an impromptu lecture about its features from our classmate who happens to be an aeronautical engineer.  This chrysanthemum picture is all you will see of me at the site.  

The shrine belongs to the Japanese imperial family, hence the chrysanthemum crest - the symbol of the emperor - is found everywhere

Switching back to the topic of school, my postgrad alma mater, the Nanyang Technological University (NTU), happened to be in town to inaugurate the Japan chapter of its alumni network.  I gladly registered for the event for the free meal chance to meet some fellow alumni.  Surprisingly, there were almost an equal number of Japanese and non-Japanese at the event.  It felt like a Singaporean/Malaysian wedding: there was a video/slideshow of photos of the star (the campus), we did a yum seng instead of kanpai, and the NTU staff went round to each table to toast and take photos (≧∇≦)

Prof. Guido Gianasso gave a short lecture on Leading Across Cultures.  The jargon brought back memories of sitting through similar lectures (and daydreaming) during my MBA days

I dragged along a Japanese classmate so that we could catch up.  I think she must be sick of seeing me in Tokyo every other year... :) Thanks for putting up with all my nonsense, Katsue!

Of Towers and Tea (Shinjuku-ku & Taito-ku)

To maximise my indulgent career break, I scoffed at my screaming leg muscles from the cycling tour, and continued my exploration of this metropolis of 12 million people and quite possibly, an equally high number of disattractions.  It is all in the mind, people!

This time, I ventured to west Tokyo to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building (東京都庁　Tokyo Tocho), which is probably more famous for its free panoramic view of the city than any governmental activities (well, to tourists, anyways).  Its twin structures are also a recognisable Tokyo landmark.

Because I'm a lone traveller, you will see a lot of pictures like these, shot from this angle, until my trusty assistant sister arrives a few weeks later.  But then, at that time, you'll probably get shots of TWO people looking like this.  

 I waited for about 10 minutes to get into the elevator, squashed with 15 others in hushed silence for 54 seconds (the elevator operator furnished us with this precise nugget of information) while ascending the 45 floors of the North Observatory.  The South Observatory is closed until Spring 2019.  

The queue was all very well-organized, like all things Japanese, even though there was a loudspeaker instructing visitors - as gently as a loudspeaker could - to be orderly in Mandarin.  

And because my legs were really giving way by that time, I gladly paid JPY 1200 for a raspberry pie & free-flow drinks at the Good View Cafe, where I ensconced myself for the next 2 hours.  It was packed on a Tuesday mid-afternoon, mostly with locals.  What do all these Tokyoites do (or not do) to afford that luxury?? The souvenir shop just outside, meanwhile, was packed with tourists...

Fuji-san did not come out to play this time, though that did not stop the tourists from hogging precious window space and taking shots of everything.  Granted, the sprawling city view is quite amazing, even without Fuji-san. 

Especially in the sunset hours...This one was taken in the Shinjuku business district showing the Mode Gakuen Cocoon Tower & the Shinjuku Center Building (no need for me to explain which is which, I think)

Later that night....

What's a trip to Japan without saying hi to its favourite monster?  There are several Godzilla statues around Tokyo, and this one is at the Shinjuku TOHO Building in Kabukicho.

My favourite Tokyo experience thus far was the tea workshop I attended today.  It was run by an extremely knowledgeable and articulate Japanese tea master who speaks French with an impeccable accent, and whose real job is proof reading English documents.  It was an intimate session with the most congenial fellow tea lovers - a Japanese tea master from Shizuoka prefecture who joined the session to learn the right English vocabulary to conduct sessions for tourists, and a young French gentlemen with a discerning taste for Japanese tea.  I couldn't ask for better companions.  We all took copious amounts of notes.  Le monsieur français et moi bought a lot of tea afterwards, too much for one person to finish before their expiry dates.  Anyone interested in dropping by my place for a cup (or several) of tea, by any chance?

And because I'm generous, here's a short primer on what I've learned today...

The level of oxidisation determines the types of tea: black tea (fully oxidised), green tea (not oxidised) and oolong tea (partially oxidised).  Oxidisation is basically the exposure to air leading to the browning of tea leaves, which, as you can imagine, is a pretty natural affair.  So, to prevent oxidisation, the leaves are heated, either by steaming at 100 degrees Celcius (Japanese method) or by pan roasting them at 200-300 degrees Celcius (Chinese method).  The difference in techniques brings about different aroma and taste. 

The world's biggest producer of green tea is, by far, China, followed by Vietnam, and then Japan.  Within Japan, the number one tea producer is Shizuoka prefecture (40% of total production).  Kagoshima in the south is next with 30%.  

The most common types of Japanese green tea are:

Sencha (煎茶)  

• made from the first harvest, which produces the best quality
• brew at 70 degrees Celcius for 1 minute
• if the water is too hot, the tea will be bitter
• has umami (sweet) taste, less bitter and astringency, though those can be adjusted by using different brewing temperature 

Fukamushi sencha (深蒸し煎茶) - deep-steamed sencha

• same as sencha, except that it is steamed for 2-3 times longer in the oxidisation process 
• has a stronger taste than regular sencha

Gyokuro (玉露) - shade-grown tea

• made from similar type of leaves used for sencha, but the leaves are covered in shade for 20 days prior to harvest
• very rich in umami 
• makes up <1% of tea produced 
• drunk in very small amounts 
• brew at 50 degrees Celcius for 2 minutes 
• can be brewed 5-6 times

Matcha (抹茶) - powdered green tea

• made from grounded tea leaves 
• brew in 60 degrees Celcius for 2 minutes, then whisked back & forth until it froths

Genmaicha (玄米茶) - tea with roasted rice, and Houjicha (ほうじ茶) - roasted green tea

• made from leaves from a second grade harvest, then mixed with roasted rice
• less caffeine so it can be drunk in the evening or served to children 
• can be brewed with cold water or room temperature water (for at least 30 minutes), or hot boiling water (for 30 seconds)

A couple more tips we picked up along the way:

• Freshly harvested tea (in April/May) usually do not have the requisite taste, though their aroma is stronger.  It is better to let them mature till autumn to buy/drink them
• For the second brew of the same tea leaves, the brewing temperature should be around 10 degrees higher and brewing time should be shortened by half 
• If the temperature of the water is too low, the bitterness (caffeine) and astringency (catechin) taste will not come out 
• It is best to use soft water to brew tea 

Gyokuro really surprised me!  It is nothing like what I thought was gyokuro.  It tastes more like meat soup, and I can understand why it is an acquired taste.  

It is also why it costs 10 times more than your everyday genmaicha or houjicha.  Compare the prices on the leftmost row with the last 2 rows on the right.  

My favourites are the common genmaicha and houjicha (fortunately?).  When I asked the instructor about the origins of the ones I bought, she replied that it is not stated because no one cares to know  <:D

Kiminoen, a 100+ year-old tea shop in Ameyoko near Ueno Station.  It is currently run by the 4th generation owner, and current President of the Tokyo Tea Wholesaler Association.  There is a fair amount of simple English labels for the teas in the shop, and they are happy to let you sample the tea, so give it a try if you're in the area!

The Apartment (Sumida-ku)

I must have looked at more than 200 short-term rental apartments online in preparation for my stay.  There were many factors to consider:

price (I'm an unemployed student, you know), 

size (some are tiny, even for a tiny person like me; think 13sqm...which includes a bathroom, toilet, kitchen and bed), 

location (within 10 mins' walk of a train station, preferably with several lines for more connectivity options), 

cleanliness (but then again, this is Japan after all, so it can't be *too* bad)

furniture (rickety, disposable college styles depresses me... ok, ok so I'm a high-class student)

size of windows (the sun cheers me up)

whether a TV is included (even though I don't understand 90% of what is said, but I believe in learning by osmosis :) )

whether a double bed is included (it's for Sis when she visits; what did you think it was for??)

The cheaper options are targeted at Japanese language students - mainly college-age kids - but they tend to take bookings only 1 month before move-in date.  I still retained some of that anal planner streak, so I wanted to make sure I had the accommodation secured as soon as possible, and so that did not work for me.

Rental procedures in Japan are also frighteningly complicated.  (Kinda like in France.  The two countries are quite similar to each other in terms of how traditional they are while leading the way in high-technology.  Enigmatic.)

Basically, you have to pay an exorbitant amount of money to rent, including deposits and "key money" which is a type of courtesy money (tip?) to the landlord.  So selecting apartments that do not require deposits, key money and etc narrowed down my choices.

After a lot of back & forth with various agents, I finally settled on this:

Galicia Ryogoku.  I'm on the top floor (7th) :)

Please excuse the garbage in front of the entrance; it was garbage collection day when I took this.

Immediately upon entering the front door is the kitchen - economical, yet adequate for a single person who hasn't cooked in YEARS (except for instant noodles, and even that, erhem...shall not be mentioned any further) and intends on savouring all that the dining scene in Tokyo has to offer

It comes with a fish grill - a standard feature of Japanese kitchens - instead of an oven.  I tested it out today, and even with my non-existent cooking skills, I made a set of perfectly grilled salmon...woohoo!

Just diagonally opposite the kitchen is the bathroom/sink/toilet.  The bath room doubles up as a drying room for laundry.  The panel just outside the room allows you set the duration for the drying time and other fancy features which I haven't figured out.  On rainy days or sunless days, or if your balcony is not equipped with drying racks like mine, this is how you dry your laundry.

And I have my own high-tech Japanese toilet...woohoo!

View of the room from the end of the corridor

View from the balcony

The best thing about the room is the view of the Tokyo Skytree.  It reminds me everyday that I'm in Tokyo :)

And here's a closer look, taken on my balcony on a clear early autumn day

Day 1: The neighbourhood (Sumida-ku)

Day 1 was a productive day of exploring the neighbourhood, orientating to the shops, amenities and places of interest.  Without my trusty navigator (aka YL), I had a delightful time getting lost and going round in circles looking for places that are literally down the road from each other.  It was liberating!

My neighbourhood, Ishiwara 2-chome (district)

A word about Japanese addresses - don't try to make sense of it, unless if you work for the postal services.

Firstly, house numbers are not in sequential order.  On our maiden trip to Japan, right after getting off the train from the airport, we wandered the streets of Osaka in the night looking for our AirBnB apartment for a good 45 minutes because we could not figure out where building 31 was hiding next to building 30.  We went round every corner we could humanly possible, but it still eluded us.  We asked one of the friendly night guards of one of the apartment blocks, who radio-ed his colleague, and they still could not give us any clue.  Towing our 2 luggage and 2 kids along, we finally found it on the other side of the overhead pedestrian bridge, nowhere near where it was supposed to be.

Addresses in Japan are also written in the opposite way of what we're used to.  It starts with the postal code, prefecture (県 ken), municipality (市 shi, or wards 区 ku in Tokyo), subdivision (町 machi or cho), district (丁目 chome), block (番 ban) and finally, house number (号 go).

Large murals of sumo greets you at the JR Ryogoku station 

My area is also known as Ryogoku and is most well-known for sumo.  It is the historic center of Japanese wrestling, and is home to the stadium which hosts some of the biggest matches.  During the Edo period (1603-1868), it was also the biggest town in Edo (Tokyo in modern day).  It is said to retain some of the traditional feel of the yesteryears, but I have yet to come across any evidence of that.  What is sure, though, just a street or two away from the Ryogoku train stations, are signs of genuine local life, with moms ferrying their young in precarious yet comfortable bicycle child seats, men bent over their work in dimly-lit workshops of some indecipherable nature, and shopkeepers bustling about in tiny shops filled with the mundane fundamentals.

The Sumida-Hokusai Museum has a unique design with "slits" in the building to allow for accessibility from every direction

Ryogoku is in the Sumida ward, whose most famous son is Katsushika Hokusai.  At least that is the name that stuck, for he had taken numerous names throughout his illustrious (literally) career spanning almost 90 years.  Another almost-centennial who puts us all young people to shame (I'm alluding to the current Malaysian PM, of course). 

Getting ready to step on Hokusai's bridge

While Hokusai experimented with various styles, it is his ukiyo-e (literally: paintings of a floating world, but generally refers to Japanese woodblock paintings that depicts life during the Edo period) that he is most associated with, and for which he charted new directions for generations of ukiyo-e artists to come.

Hokusai's most famous works: The Great Wave Off Kanagawa & The Red Mt Fuji

After spending 2 hours at the Sumida Hokusai Museum which displayed original works by Hokusai, his disciples and other painters, including the other ukiyo-e master, Hiroshige, I can confidently tell you that I am now adept at identifying Hokusai's works from the rest.  His works exudes life: the people are cheeky, their bodies expressive, the landscape is moving, the strokes are fine but confident, the colours are vibrant.  He continued painting up to his death at the age of 88, accompanied by his daughter, Oei, also a painter herself.

Watching the master in action

"When I was 50 I had published a universe of designs, but all I have done before the age of 70 is not worth bothering with. At 75, I'll have learned something of the pattern of nature, of animals, of plants, of trees, birds, fish and insects. When I am 80, you will see real progress. At 90, I shall have cut my way deeply into the mystery of life itself. At 100 I shall be a marvelous artist. At 110, everything I create - a dot, a line - will jump to life as never before." Hokusai