Kenny 'n Kobe

The Boys are in Town!

2006-06-26T18:12:00.000+09:00

If there is a disturbance in the harmony of this land, it was no doubt caused by the arrival of several of my college buddies. I made sure to finish up my reports and papers, because the next week will be lived with adventure: sighting by day, and a comprehensive survey of Japanese watering holes by night. I am really excited to have them here and to introduce them to my beloved Japan. While we may go to some famous sites, in general I hope to get them deep into the parts of Japan not seen if you stick to the usual route.

Gus, Micah, Brenden, and Josh all flew in from Hong Kong, where they had been visiting our other friend Dennis. We met up and made our way to the Rakuen, where I showed off my local bar. The guys were tired from their week in Hong Kong, so we took it easy and started the long process of exchanging stories from the past year.

On Saturday, after a hearty lunch at Tarou Ramen, we hopped the trains to Kyoto. The weather defied the weather forecast and cleared up, which led to some great views at Kinkakuji (the Golden Pavilion). The guys are not too pleased with Japanese currency, especially all the large and unfortunately valuable coins. Carrying around a coin purse, let alone a man-purse, is out of the question for these guys; they preferred trying to throw them into little stone-bowls for good luck. When this failed, we opted to convert some of the change into green tea ice cream.

After the not-so-subtle beauty of Kinkakuji, I decided to show the guys Ryoanji. This is the home of a very famous Zen dry landscape garden. However, the guys seemed more interested in the inviting green moss that covered much of the temple’s grounds. With a bit of humidity in the air and a slight breeze, it certainly was excellent weather for a nap – I went in for a closer look, and can report that the moss is as soft as it looks.

Taking in all that Kyoto-culture really worked up an appetite. We returned to Kobe after stopping in the JR Kyoto station long enough to check out its architecture, contemplate running all the way down its abundant downscalators, and activate the boys’ JR Rail Passes. I took the boys to a small neighborhood restaurant that is well known for its Kobe beef. It is a whole-in-the-wall with pictures of signatures of famous Japanese people on the walls.

The beef was divine. We had sirloin and tenderloin, as well as typical Japanese seafood and beef yakisoba, accompanied with some draft beers. I was very pleased that all the guys were impressed with the meal, and they have informed me that we will be going back there again while they are in Japan.

Well fed and reinvigorated, we took showers and got dressed for a night out on the town. A certain karaoke bar in Osaka will never forget us, that is for sure.

Handbook: Download the Full thing!

2006-06-20T18:52:00.000+09:00

Well, how about showing you the full handbook, huh? Trust me, I want to. But "Blogger" is crafty, and it is sort of hard to put up PDF files here. But never fear, I figured a way around this little problem. Just click on the image above, and then click on the handbook link to get the file.

It is a 2MD file, and the images probably won't look too good if you print it at this quality. But check it out! Remember, it is a manga-theme, so it goes back to front... the first page is actually the last page in this file.

Handbook: Wrapping up

2006-06-20T18:41:00.000+09:00

As you can see from the sample of articles listed here, all the Fellows put a great deal of time and effort into the handbook. Here is a picture of the 2005-2006 Fulbright Fellows to Japan, all of whom hope that this handbook will be useful to future Fulbrighters. And, here on the internet, maybe it will be useful to a wider audience. On the back cover of the handbook I wrote a little something in Japanese, a sort of “charge” to those who follow. I won’t translate it here, in part because it includes a lot of idioms that don’t work well in English.

願道のひとこと

先輩達の植えた樹の桜も咲いてから散るように一年一年が過ぎてしまう。まあ、諸行無常。我々が各々の道を辿りながら体験したことに踏まえる知識に含んでいる本稿を新たな時代の到来を告げようとして皆に与える。
迷っている時こそ良い勉強になるが個別な運命を探す中にこの本は役立ったら嬉しいでがんす。良い助言が望むなら老人に相談しなさいと言われるにもかかわらずこれを書いた人々も若者なので必ずドンドン反対し議論してもいい。雨降って地固まる。
備えあれば憂いなし。確かにそうなのでこちらでは細かい忠告も示してある。しかし、「着眼大局、着手小局」という諺の両方を意識すればと考えている。どんな道を歩んでも積極的な心を堅持しなさい！

Handbook: Non-academic life, clubs

2006-06-20T18:22:00.000+09:00

I've mentioned my experience on the lacrosse team many times, and it got included in the handbook as well. Below is my brief description of what it means to be in a club (I also threw in a picture of my working the grill at a BBQ):

"Club Life – the Bonds of Friendship:

Five days a week (including Saturday and Sunday) I wake up at 6 a.m. in order to make it to lacrosse practice, which starts promptly at 7:30 a.m. and regularly goes until around noon. This is club life – the club is your life. We practice together, we go out drinking together, we go on trips together, and the highly prevalent konpa system of dating means we go on group dates together.

Why would anyone sacrifice such a huge part of their life to a sport they have no aspiration of playing professionally and no hope of receiving a tuition scholarship for? Hmmm… because you want friends? Seriously, making friends with Japanese students (except those that want to study your English) is difficult for foreign students. Actually, it is the same for Japanese students: joining a club (or circle) is the way of building up that all-important “in-group.” A club in Japan bears a great deal of similarity with the Greek system on US college campuses: in addition to strict formality between older and younger students, even the graduates (O.B. - “Old Boys”) come around to practice and party.

You’ll have to decide whether to join a club or circle, but I would highly recommend joining something, and doing so soon after you arrive in Japan. Why did I choose a club? Because I wanted to play a sport in college, but didn’t make the time; because one of my goals of the Fulbright year was to get in shape; because I knew how hard it is for guys to make guy friends in Japan; because I wanted to meet and get to understand the Japanese students who don’t speak English; and because time is one thing you have plenty to burn on a Fulbright, and I worried I’d end up sleeping into 11 am everyday without this kind of structure."

Handbook: Non-academic life, capsule hotels

2006-06-20T18:09:00.000+09:00

Yeon Wha wrote a great piece about Japanese capsule hotels, which reminded me of one I stayed in one when I journeyed to Nagasaki while an exchange student in college. I cannot resist the temptation to quote her and include some pictures of my experience. While I haven’t stayed in a capsule hotel this year, I did buy a night-bus ticket to Tokyo that included two hours in the spa/shower area of a capsule hotel – a great way to shake off a rough night’s sleep and get clean at 6 a.m. to jump start your day!

Here is Yeon Wha’s article, along with my pictures:

“If you…

1. are over 5’8” (or like to strech out your legs to sleep)…
2. are claustrophobic…
3. are high maintenance…
4. don’t mind spending money for a place to sleep…
5. are traveling with a larger group…
6. can’t take communal baths…

…a capsule hotel is not for you. Otherwise, capsule hotels are great! I stayed at a capsule hotel in Fukuoka with a women-only wing. If you are traveling alone and just need a place to crash, a capsule hotel is the way to go. It’s Japan, so they’ve already thought of everything you need. What happens is: You check in and pay, they give you a key to a locker, and your pod number. Then you put your luggage in the locker, change in to pajamas provided in the locker, take a bath in the communal sauna, and relax (towels and hygiene equipment like disposable toothbrush, toothpaste, hair products, hair dryer all provided). Next, you go to your pod nice and clean in your borrowed pajamas, watch some TV in your pod, and fall asleep. Finally, wake up, pick up your stuff at the locker, change in the locker room, and check out. It is a very simple and wonderfully convenient system. Unfortunately, this option is not always available to women, but it is a highly recommended experience.”

Handbook: Non-academic life, “Frugal Fellows”

2006-06-20T18:04:00.000+09:00

In far and away the largest section of the handbook, we addressed the ‘play-hard’ side of the equation, with advice on travel (such as to Miyajima Island, off the coast of Hiroshima, as shown in this picture), making friends, and saving money.

Japan is an expensive country, but there are a variety of ways you can greatly reduce your expenses. To pass along our tips, the group compiled a section titled “Frugal Fellows.” The one about the cultural activities card is particularly nice, and I’m including a picture of me at the Kobe Aquarium, which I got into for free! Nice statue of Doraemon, huh? I’m quoting some of the tips below, beginning with an introduction to the section written by Luke:

“At the end of your orientation in Tokyo you will be handed a check for a very large sum of money. You will take this check to the bank down the street and they will hand you a very thick envelope stuffed with several thousands of dollars in cash. You might stuff this envelope into your trousers, like I did, and walk around Tokyo very self-conscious for the next few days, with the knowledge that it will take a week or two before you are able to set up a proper bank account and deposit your windfall.

This situation will likely result in the desire to rid yourself of this burden as soon as possible. Adding to this growing danger will be the fact that no matter how much you tell yourself that the money is real, the truth is that Japanese yen bears a striking resemblance to board game money.

* There is no reason to ever buy tissue paper in Japan. Small packages of tissue paper are used as forms of advertisement in Japan, and there are people standing on every street corner just waiting for the chance to hand you one or several packages.

* You can also get away with not buying soy sauce or ginger, as sample packets are available for free from most supermarkets. Let it be known that some consider this borderline behavior.

* There are all kinds of crazy discounts in Japan that you would never know about unless you asked. In certain places, for example, you can get a foreigner discount at the movies. And women have it the best. There is almost nowhere that doesn’t have a special discount available for ladies, and in the most unexpected places. At an internet café right across the street from the JUSEC offices there is a big sign in the window: Women ¥300/hr Men ¥500/hr. This may be your only chance to take advantage of sexual discrimination.

* As an international student at my university I was eligible for a “Cultural Activities Card.” This card gets me in for free to any “cultural location” within the prefecture – museums, temples, castles – you name it. Those ¥200-300 entrance fees add up, so ask to see if such a thing exists at your location.

* Resist the urge to buy drinks out the countless masses of vending machines and convenience stores. Paying ¥150 for a bottle of green tea does not make a lot of since considering you can easily get a box of 40 tea bags for only about twice that much. Have a water bottle and carry it with you (no, probably not a monster Nalgene bottle). This is especially necessary for the oppressively humid summer months. And since even guys in Japan carry man-purses, everyone should have a place to tuck along a little something [I won’t go anywhere without my man-purse – Ed].

* In Japan if you go out to eat with someone older than you are, they will generally pay for your entire meal (note that this does not apply to classmates, only working professionals). Objections are out of the question, and even considered rude. Now, a shrewd Frugal Fellow could conceivably take advantage of this cultural phenomenon. I myself have been treated to many, many fine meals. I leave it up to you to navigate your own comfort zone, but let it be known that finding your way into these situations can take a sizable chunk out of your monthly food bill.

* Even if you buy a monthly pass for the trains, that only covers you along a specific route. The cost of riding on trains adds up in a hurry, especially if you enjoy taking day trips to places a little ways away from where you live. Here is one way to save a little cash – outside of almost all train stations, there will be a small little hole-in-the-wall shop where they sell train tickets for cheaper than the automatic ticket machines. While you may only save ¥10 on a short trip, the price from Kobe from Kyoto can drop by half, particularly if you ride during off-peak hours (10am to 5pm). Also, the farther a store is from the station the deeper the discount. Not only will you pocket the difference, but instead of throwing coins into a machine, you will meet and speak with the discount ticket clerks: just one more small step on the way to enduring US-Japan relations (some ticket stores also sell movie tickets, baseball tickets, basically any kind of ticket; these can also save you a bundle).”

Handbook: Academic Life

2006-06-20T17:37:00.000+09:00

I couldn’t resist using the “Way of Philosophy” as the image for the section on academic life. The Japanese on this section title means, roughly, “The ‘work-hard’ part of ‘work-hard, play-hard’,” which is one of the many Japanese idioms that I love. Though I wrote a bit on research tips, it is long and I’ve covered most of what was written there in other entries. If will, however, quote a bit on my method of studying kanji:

“The worst thing about kanji, for me, is forgetting the ones I’ve studied. I came to see that learning vocabulary surrounding a certain topic didn’t work for me. What I wanted was a system, and no class could offer it. While styles of learning are different, I’d encourage you all to check out the “Kanji in Context” series, which consists of a reference book and a workbook of quizzes. What I like about it is how it teaches you kanji in increasing difficulty, clustered by similar radicals and meanings. Memorization is about building connections, and this book does that.

It also breaks up the mammoth task of learning the characters into manageable lessons – about 150 of them. Regardless of your current level in Japanese, anyone could start at the beginning and do one lesson a day (takes about an hour). I make flashcards that use each of the different readings and make example sentences (so that you learn usage – very important).

If your language studies are a big part of your goals for the Fulbright, then by all means figure out a kanji studying system that works for you. “

Handbook: Getting Settled, Cell Phone

2006-06-20T16:52:00.000+09:00

As I've written before, cell phones are a major part of life in Japan, even more so than in the United States. Cell phones are so ubiquitous that they threaten to become a nuance, especially on trains. Unlike in the United States, you will rarely see Japanese people talking on the phone on buses or trains, nor do you hear those loud, annoying ring tones everyone seems so proud of. This is the result of a major campaign to have people put their phones on “manner mode” (silent mode in the US) and refrain from talking while riding. Signs like the picture here are pasted everywhere on buses and trains – the first and last cars of all trains are designated “cell phone OFF” zones, where even messaging is not allowed.

Luke wrote a bit about cell phones which is interesting, and which mentions the dedication I showed in fighting to get the other Fellows the student discount (which we are not supposed to be able to get):

" You will need a cell phone in Japan, how else will your friends get a hold of you for late-night karaoke? Add your keitai to the same list of utilities as electricity and running water.

Before coming to Japan, I had never owned a cell phone. Now my cell phone is large and gold in color, contains a 2.1 megapixel camera with a 2x optical zoom and the ability to watch television shows and record them to the internal hard disk. And it was free. Very cool.

The most popular choice for cell phones is au (www.au.kddi.com) since they offer the only student discount. Herein lies the rub, as your designation as “student” is a little dodgy. Technically, you will be a research student which depending on who you talk to isn’t really a student at all. My student ID card has no mention of research student on it at all and I have no problems receiving discounts, while some Fellows are issued separate, “lesser” ID cards that won’t be honored for student discounts. You will also need your Alien Registration card (some shops will accept the temporary proxy that can be purchased at the ward office for ¥300). Also make sure that your phone is capable of switching to English characters, as not all models have this option.

If you are having troubles receiving your discount, just try another cell phone shop; the discount is given at the discretion of the individual stores, not au itself. So keep trying until you find someone nice. Or you could just send an email to Kenny, who is rumored to have personally broken the knees of several au shop clerks on the behalf of no less that three other Fulbrighters in the process of acquiring them their discounts.”

I also added a blurb to what Luke wrote, commenting on how best to make international calls between the United States and Japan for cheap or free:

“You mean you actually want to talk on your phone, instead of sending text? To the States? Your only hope to call home yourself is the Brastel card - a prepaid, conbini-rechargeable card whose application can be found in bars & restaurants frequented by gaijin.
There are two better options:
1. Have your family/friends in the US buy a Sprint International Prepaid Phone Card (it doesn’t charge extra for calling cells, and is cheap) and have them call you (no charge to you).
2. Join the revoluation: download Skype and talk for free!”

Handbook: Getting Settled, Gomi

2006-06-20T16:35:00.000+09:00

Well, it is unlikely that any Fellow will end up living in Osaka Castle, shown in this picture. However, there is plenty of advice to be given about finding a place and putting together one's "Japanese life." I wrote about making meishi (business cards), but I wrote about that in an earlier entry.

Here, I'd like to talk about trash (gomi in Japanese). Kristin wrote a nice little bit about garbage, and I'm reproducing it below:

"No joke, Japan has gotten gomi down to a science. In larger metropolises, trash is separated seven to eight different ways, so be sure that you get it right, otherwise you’ll get a nasty note on your door from the local garbage man (while hilarious, it’s still hazukashii). You can buy your city-approved trash bags at any grocery store and can start by separating items into burnables (paper, discarded food items), non-burnables (things that would make us flinch if it were flung into the atmosphere [actually, they burn plastic bags here, so plastic bags are considered “burnable” – Ed]), PET bottles (the plastic bottles you buy at your konbini while rushing to class), glass and milk cartons/newspapers/cardboard. In Osaka, you have to put special notices on any trash bags that contain any hazardous items like gas cans… just think of it as your year to work extra hard for the environment!"

Really, please check out this picture of how to separate garbage. The pick-up times are different for everything, with some items only being taken once a month. That means that if you forget to put out your unburnable garbage this month, then you have to wake another month before getting rid of your glass bottles, etc. I seem rather incapable of remembering when the recycle is put out, and I have quite a collection of plastic bottles stores in my apartment. I don't know what I'll do if I cannot remember the right dates and it becomes time for me to leave Japan... You can return bottles and cans at certain stores, but I'll look like the Santa of plastic if I heave a garbage over my shoulder and walk to the return center.

Handbook: Predeparture, Medical School Applications

2006-06-20T11:54:00.000+09:00

We also wanted to give the future Fellows some advice on what to do before they come to Japan. I remember that last summer I was applying to medical school and studying for the MCAT, as well as spending as much time as possible with my little brother. There was, in reality, little time for serious preparation for my Fulbright year. I was required to type up a project proposal for Kobe University’s Graduate School of Law, and the necessity of doing this was difficult at the time, but a boon once I arrived.

Anyway, check out this beautiful picture Kavitha took of Mt. Fuji, and see what I wrote about applying to medical school. Though I’m not sure if anyone next year is applying to medical school, I think this is a pretty good look at what it is like to apply from abroad. Now that I am finished applying, looking back I can see that completing my application process took up a big part of my year in Japan. Not that it was a bad thing: it would have been impossible for me to do everything I wanted senior year and still successfully apply, so having the freedom and time to do it here worked out well.

Applying to Medical School from Japan:

If you are applying to medical school while a Fulbrighter, then by the time you come to Japan a lot of the work will already be done: you’ll have submitted your AAMC application, taken the MCAT, and gotten together all those letters of recommendation. Despite my best intentions, I only completed those secondary applications that had extremely early deadlines before heading to Japan. Just as a general tip, be sure to read all the schools’ essay prompts and determine how many you can combine – I only wrote three or four essays, and then made small changes in length or content for each school.

I ended up purposefully submitting the bulk of my secondary applications fairly late, with the hope of not getting any interviews before January. My reason was simple – in order to eliminate as much cost and time out of the country as possible, I wanted to make only one trip back to the States. In three weeks I did eight interviews and spent some time with my family. This was exhausting, and it required a lot of careful planning of plane flights and negotiations with the staff at various medical schools. Enough schools were flexible and understanding to make up for those that were not, although I had to pass up one interview because they could not accommodate my schedule. Here are some tips: use Chicago as a base of operations, as United has relatively cheap and abundant hopper flights to many of the cities you will be going to; use the weekends for the cross-country travel and to rest, and stay with friends wherever possible; and be sure to call (don’t email) admissions offices if you want to elicit more sympathy.

Unfortunately, the game is not over after the interviews, as you also have to apply for financial aid. Collecting the proper tax forms for yourself and your family takes time – don’t wait until you hear from schools before applying for aid, and get that FASFA in right around January 1st if possible.

Handbook: Places

2006-06-20T11:52:00.000+09:00

After introducing all the Fellows, the next task was to introduce where we live. The section was titled "Places," and I couldn't resist using my picture of Kiyomizu Temple in the Fall.

Here is my introduction of Kobe:

Kobe – The Gateway to Heaven

When I leave my apartment each morning, I look north to Mt. Rokko: the mountain reveals Japan’s flowing seasons and is responsible for the city’s altogether appropriate geomancy – it’s comforting, really.

Turning around, the bay reveals both itself as well as several manmade reclamation projects – one of them, Rokko Island, was formed by borrowing mass from its namesake mountain. Within a few moments a Hankyu train will pass across my view, running east or west as all (three) train lines of Kobe do.

This is Kobe: mountains north, sea south, trains traversing across. This simplicity is not the only reason the city of about 1.5 million people is easy for foreigners to live in. A telling example would be how a woman in my neighborhood asked me without hesitation, in Japanese, where she might find the nearest post office. Perhaps it is the lack of tourist destinations, or the shear number of gaijin, but the Japanese residents of Kobe by and large figure that if you’re here, you live here.

What? No must-see attractions? Well, almost. Let’s say that you do not end up placed in Kobe, and you only want to spend one day here. What should you do? My first bit of advice would be timing. Come to Kobe around the middle of December for the Kobe Luminarie. This festival commemorates the darkness of the 1995 Great Hanshin Earthquake by lighting up the night and bringing together the masses to view the spectacle. Walking alongside thousands of strangers under an accumulation of lights so intense it has a palpable heat will scratch your yuletide itch for Christmas lights, although if you don’t want to feel like herded cattle I’d avoid opening day and the weekends.

While you’re in town for the Luminarie, do Kobe properly. Get its justifiably world-famous beef for lunch in bustling Sannomiya, and head to the Chinatown of Motomachi for some nikuman (meat dumplings). And how convenient, Motomachi is where the pathway through Luminarie begins!

By the Way: You may associate Kobe with beef or the earthquake (when the resident yakuza began handing out food and water before the Red Cross), but Kobe to a Japanese person is likely to mean one thing: the Hanshin Tigers. If you are a fan of sports or a fan of fans, follow the lead of Kristin and I by going to the famed Koshien Stadium, even if you have to wait outside to buy “resale” tickets. We went to the game right before they clinched their division (after which they were swept in the championship series), and the sea of fans singing individual songs for each player gives the baseball game a European soccer match kind of energy. These are, quite frankly, the best fans in the world. Enjoy!

Handbook: Character Introduction

2006-06-20T10:08:00.000+09:00

In keeping with the manga theme, we did the profile section as a “character introduction.” Roxanne drew manga images of each of us – I’m the guy playing Go.

Below, I am pasting in the text from my profile section:

KENNY GUNDLE
AFFILIATION: KOBE UNIVERSITY
FAVORITE MANGA: HIKARU NO GO

In less than a year you will be writing your own introduction to a Fulbright Fellows Handbook.

My name is Kenny Gundle. I hail from Portland, in the honorable state of Oregon, and in June of 2005 I graduated from Stanford University with a BA in Human Biology. In college I attempted an honors thesis on organ donation policy in the United States, and was pleased to have my advisor inform me, “Well, Kenny, you’re not a bad writer.” That about sums up my unrequited love of English, which seems especially found of rejecting my good-intentioned attempts at neology, and partially explains my endeavors to learn the abundantly foreign Japanese tongue (speaking, that is… I leave kanji to my keitai).

Threading together interests in Japan, the bioethics of transplantation, and medicine in order to convince the authorities in Washington DC and Tokyo to support a year aboard proved challenging, but I elected to examine the “relationship between Japan’s brain death dilemma and the country’s interest in regenerative medicine research.”

But what would you say that I do? In the spirit of strengthening international understanding and cooperation, a mission that I take heart in, I joined the Kobe University Lacrosse Team. A university club is an immense time commitment with commensurate rewards. It insures that, if nothing else, I wake up very early for morning practices. I also took up the game of Go, and yes, this did have something to do with reading the manga series “Hikaru no Go.”

Being a Fulbright Fellow in Japan has provided an opportunity for riskful thinking and has helped me develop a sustained state of questioning. You may learn more about yourself than your research topic during the course of the year, and that is nothing to shy away from. I will be a sad panda if none of you email me about something or another.

Handbook: Table of Contents

2006-06-20T10:01:00.000+09:00

Check out this image, which shows all of the Fellows at the Mid-Year Conference along with Dr. Satterwhite, the Executive Director of JUSEC. Below the image is the Table of Contents for the handbook.

Fulbright Fellows Handbook:

2006-06-20T09:31:00.000+09:00

For the final three weeks of May and the first week of June, I great deal of my waking hours were spent doing the layout and production of the Fulbright Fellows Handbook. Each year the Fulbright Fellows in Japan make a handbook that is then passed on to the following year’s recipients. The idea is to depart advice and experience in living in Japan, particularly under the rather unique circumstances of a Fulbright Fellow. The two handbooks that I received over the summer were really useful in my preparations and gave some specific, reassuring advice on moving in, conducting research, and enjoying life in Japan.

Luke, the Fellow in Hiroshima, was the editor of the handbook. In a moment of apparent nostalgia from working on my high school paper and putting together my fraternity newsletter, and as I have the right software on my computer, I offered to do the layout. What I had forgotten about this process is the enormous time it requires, and in comparison the size of the handbook dwarfed anything I had done before. As the weeks went by Luke and I were increasing saying, during our many conversations over Skype, something along the lines of, “Um… this is taking a long time, huh?”

In the end it is a great product of the accumulated knowledge and experiences of all this year’s Fellows, and I hope it will be useful to those in the years to come. The handbook had a manga theme, which meant that among other things that the pages go in reverse order (which, among several other reasons, made printing and binding the handbook require many an hour at – of course – Kinkos).

Since it really was what I lived and breathed for about a month, I want to share some of the things that I wrote.

A Week in the Settled Life: Saturday

2006-05-18T19:00:00.000+09:00

A lot of lacrosse games were scheduled for Saturdays. There was an ongoing “Pride” tournament for all the teams in the Kansai region. I didn’t play in these teams, both because there were concerns about my status as a “research student” and because, frankly, there are some really good defensemen on the team who are faster and more talented than I am (though I wish they were more willing to knock their opponents around).

Unfortunately, throughout much of the spring, it would be sunny and clear all week and then rain on Saturday. Seriously, this happened on more than half of all scheduled game days. The dirt fields cannot be played on in the rain and the games would be rescheduled for the following weekend, but not before everyone on the team would travel an hour, hour and a half away from Kobe to meet up before the game. Sacrificing Friday nights to be ready for games is one thing, but waking up at the crack of dawn and going all the way to a game site to have it cancelled was frustrating.

Though part of me wishes I could have played in more games, I was happy enough to be a part of the team and watch them compete. I would hang out and watch with the younger and lesser players (who neither play nor sit on the bench), which was good times. Once I got a ride to and from the game in a player-packed minivan, and I really just felt like one of the boys – there were really long stretches where I could freely communicate, understand everything they were saying to each other (in fast, colloquial, young-person Japanese) and contribute to the conversations.

Whether a characteristic of Japanese teams or just this one, I learned a good lesson about leadership and teamwork by seeing what happened after the team lost a tough game to an opponent that played harder and better than Kobe. Immediately afterwards, the whole team gathered around to hear the coach, who is really just a recent graduate, give the statistical rundown and then a tongue-lashing about their performance. Then, the two captains continued with a composed but merciless analysis.

This part may or not have been productive, but then the different positions split up and each formed a circle. I was with the defense. After some general remarks by the defense captain, they went around the circle and each person talked about what he thought went wrong, both for himself and the defense as a whole. What I thought worked well about it was that each person get a chance to speak, to vent some frustrations and publicly comment on their personal lapses. It was an inclusive circle that was hard but equal, and I particularly liked that rather than just asking for comments, each person had to speak.

At the beginning of the following practice, the captain said that although they lost, that it was only a loss if they don’t learn from it. The intensity at practices following this game was much higher, and they won the next game.

A Week in the Settled Life: Friday

2006-05-18T18:00:00.000+09:00

While I occasionally ended up at Mister Donuts on Wednesday afternoon, the part-time employees there might as well reserve a seat for me on Fridays. Each Friday afternoon at 3 p.m. I meet with my Japanese tutor, a third-year Kobe University student named Kenichi. He is a nice guy who is kind enough to read over and correct all the writing I do in Japanese. If it weren’t for the lacrosse team, Kenichi would probably have been the Japanese college student I got to know best. A lot of the time I don’t have specific questions for him, so we just chat in Japanese and he corrects me as we go along.

Somehow Friday became my quiet night, which seemed odd at first given how I lived at Stanford. With the thought of practice or an early game the next day, going out until the wee hours was not an option. Ideally I would take a second shower, chill out, and maybe play my mandolin before heading to bed by 10 p.m. at the latest.

A Week in the Settled Life: Thursday

2006-05-18T16:26:00.000+09:00

Because I neither have class or practice on Thursday, it is my one-day of the week totally free. Thursdays are the day I might travel to Kyoto, or meet with a professor on my research, or just run errands and clean my apartment.

I did start watching a Japanese drama on Thursday nights that is about seven female lawyers. While is doesn’t quite compare to Jack McCoy and “that sound,” it is highly entertaining. The only problem is that it starts at 9pm, which means I cannot watch it while eating dinner. Grrrr… once I got used to downloading and watching shows whenever I felt like it, it became much harder to fit my schedule around the whims of television programming.

A Week in the Settled Life: Wednesday

2006-05-18T16:13:00.000+09:00

For some reason, I feel like Wednesday is my most typical of typical days. The pattern is practice, shower, lunch, and then probably a short rest while reading Harry Potter in Japanese. I’d say that Wednesday afternoons often find me at my favorite coffee joint, Mister Donuts, to study kanji – I really can only spend so many afternoons working in my room, especially since I don’t have a desk.

There is another reason for heading out on Wednesdays, either for coffee or just to a nearby temple’s park: Wednesday is when I get the pleasure of listening to Robert Harrison’s podcast “Entitled Opinions on Life and Literature.” Professor Harrison teaches at Stanford, and I got to know him my senior year when I participated in the Stanford Philosophical Reading Group. I highly encourage everyone to listen to this show – if you want to get hooked, go download the one on Heidegger. Even though (or perhaps especially because) he is a professor of French and Italian, which is clearly not my area of expertise, I learn a great deal from him and his guests. Being able to take a Stanford professor’s lecture on my iPod and go ponder for an hour makes for a great afternoon.

Entitled Opinions on the Web: http://www.stanford.edu/dept/fren-ital/opinions/

A Week in the Settled Life: Tuesday

2006-05-18T03:51:00.000+09:00

Actually, Tuesday means one thing and one thing only – a new episode of “24.” I must say that watching “24” each week really helped keep me grounded, and I miss it now that season five is over. Being able to stay connected with your favorite show is something that was basically impossible, and definitely either illegal or expensive, just two years ago when I was an exchange student. The iTunes Music Store changed all that. If I’m feeling down, knowing I can download an episode of “Law and Order” is like a warm fuzzy blanket.

Tuesday is also a “definitely cook dinner” day, as nothing is quite like sitting down to a home cooked meal and watching Jack Bauer save my homeland from terrorists. (Jack also did some ads for a health bar here in Japan)

A Week in the Settled Life: Monday

2006-05-18T03:41:00.000+09:00

By all means, I sleep in on Monday. Sadly, “sleeping in” usually means I wake up by about 7 a.m. and am wide awake. If the weather is nice, Monday is laundry day (since I have no dryer, as is standard here, I have to hang up my clothes outside). Since my mind is fresh and I won’t get exhausted from lacrosse, Monday is also a prime day to work on translations or readings for my research.

This semester I decided not to take any classes at Kobe University. There were no classes directly related to my research, and I felt like studying kanji and meeting with my tutor would better serve my Japanese language goals. However, I did find a lecture series taught at Osaka University directly related to my topic. The title is “Science Technology and Ethics,” and it is taught at Osaka University’s Center for Innovation. (Actually, I would translate it as "Scientific Technology and Ethics" - here is the poster for the class)

As one goal of the class is to foster discussion of ethical issues in scientific technology among the public, the series is open to anyone who wishes to attend. I was surprised that not only students are registered for the class, but scientists, engineer, and self-described housewives who have no direct connection to the university and receive no course credit also come each week. I was equally impressed by the wide-ranging attendance and the apparent outreach effort given to publicizing the lectures – for my part, if there had not been a large poster about it hanging in the lobby of the Kobe University library, there is no way I would have heard about the class.

(A brief aside – lifelong learning has quite a history in Japan, but the declining birth rate is really pinching the universities and they are starting to establish special degrees for retired people. The must popular field, which I read about in the Nikkei Newspaper, is a degree in managing non-profit or non-governmental agencies. In Osaka University’s new program, a person’s tuition cost is directly related to his or her age!)

A different professor lectures each week on a specific topic. One highlight was a professor who focused in on the difference between science and technology. He specified that while scientists produce knowledge that is disseminated as journal articles and conference lectures, technologists (uh… engineers… bad Japanese to US translation, though it seems odd that technologist isn’t a word) produce tools or, in this professor’s word, art. Also, he suggested that the mixing of science and technology, such that today they seem almost merged (especially with the case of biotechnology), occurred as a result of the involvement of industry and the development of modern warfare. The reason I look back at this lecture with particular fondness is because two days later, on Robert Harrison’s radio show “Entitled Opinions” – see the posting for Wednesday – the same point was mentioned and I thought it was incredible that two scholars from two totally different fields living in two totally different worlds would focus on the same issue within 48 hours of each other.

The class is not all positives, however. I am particularly disappointed with the questions asked after the lecture. First, the lecturer never leaves much time. Then, the students never ask questions. Next, when one of the older audience members does ask a question, it takes them five minutes to do so, and it always ends up just being a question of whether the professor agrees with the questioner’s monologue. I usually approach the lecturer afterwards to ask more questions, and sometimes I get the cold shoulder when I directly question something the professor said – for example, one professor seemed rather offended that I would challenge his notion that because animals can experience pain they are the same as humans and should never be used for research. But then, are you trying to say I cannot eat them either?

Truth be told, I am not a huge fan of the city of Osaka, and it is kind of a drag to travel down there for a 6:30 – 8:00 p.m. class. To treat myself a bit for going to class, and because the lecture falls right at dinnertime, I always eat at a Yoshinoya for dinner. Yoshinoya is a 24-hour, cheap restaurant that caters to busy businessmen and students by serving rice bowls and curry. You sit at a counter and get served your food within about 60-seconds of ordering, and many customers seem to eat in about the same amount of time.

Buy the time I make my way back home after the class, it is bedtime – Tuesday means practice!

A Week in the Settled Life: Sunday

2006-05-18T03:31:00.000+09:00

No wild Saturday nights for me – Sunday morning was just another day of walking up at 6 a.m. for practice. After practice I would come home, shower, and make lunch. At this point I was making a lot of okonomiyaki and miso soup filled with potatoes and onions. Then I would settle down in front of my TV and watch the Go lesson at noon on NHK Television. The lesson was simple enough that I understood it, but yet still dealt with interesting tactics I have no experience with. Sometimes I would get out my folding Go board and stones and play along to help remember that was being taught. After the lesson is a televised professional Go match, which includes two commentators that do play-by-play analysis, as part of an ongoing tournament. I usually get lost at some point – these pros can play so close to disaster that I cannot read the board.

There is a Go magazine put out by NHK that explains the Sunday lessons in more details, and when I cannot figure out what is going on in the pro match I continue studying the basics. Right now I’m trying to figure out how to subscribe to it in the United States (a small note… apparently Japanese people don’t do yearly magazine subscribes much, instead just opting to stop by a station bookstore each month). I enjoy Go, and I hope it will be one of the ways I keep up my Japanese back in America. Not only do I play and practice Go using Japanese, but I hope to find some old Japanese men in Boston to play with me and chat.

Studying kanji, shopping, and cooking dinner usually takes up the rest of Sunday. Sunday is also one of two nights available to go out drinking with the lacrosse boys, as there is no practice on Monday.

By the way, if you are wondering what “Go” is, check out the Wikipedia article at:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Go

A Week in the Settled Life:

2006-05-10T03:30:00.000+09:00

Sometime around late April, I realized that my life in Japan had found a steady routine. Between lacrosse practice, classes, my research and independent study, and all the little tasks involved with daily life, my schedule was pretty full. This was one contributing factor to the slowdown in postings to this site. While I am actually writing this in June, I am posting it to early May, to give a glance at what a “normal week in the life” looked like for a solid few months of my time here. Each day of the week had its little differences, though.

New School Year, New Recruits

2006-04-16T18:09:00.000+09:00

The Japanese school year begins in mid-April. This has always surprised me, as I believe it should surprise anyone who has experienced a Japanese summer. The haunting humidity sucks all the energy (and water) out of people – especially when every school I have ever been in lacks air conditioning… except in the teachers’ area and principal’s office. I would have guessed, then, that a very long summer break might be in order, and that therefore beginning a school year as the climate cools into autumn would be most suitable. In other words, I believe that the American system makes a good deal of sense.

Or at least that was what I felt before I saw the Japanese sakura – cherry blossoms. Almost overnight the country exploded into pink and white as trees I had hardly ever taken notice of suddenly consumed all my attention. Sakura are everywhere in this country, with beautiful effect. What amazes me most is that these trees, which are abundantly normal for 52 weeks of the year, occupy so much space in a space-deficient country.

There are so many events and traditions that pervade the sakura season. The most common way to celebrate is to gather with friends under the sakura (and usually drink/eat copious amounts). And, as I mentioned, this is the time of entering student ceremonies at schools and colleges. A new batch of students means that the clubs for every conceivable activity go out to recruit new members. So it is only natural that the lacrosse club held multiple weekend barbeques for potential new members (along with the Kobe University women’s lacrosse team, of course). These are some pictures of the club and me taking in the fine weather. The more astute readers may remember this little waterway – these events took place about three minutes from my apartment, and this is where I used to go running!

Sakura at Kiyomizu Temple:

2006-04-14T18:53:00.000+09:00

The name Kiyomizu means pure water, in case I haven’t mentioned that before. The goddess enshrined here is Kannon – a Buddhist deity of compassion and mercy. Considering the proximity of the sakura season to Easter, Kiyomizu was a meaningful place to visit. Wandering around the grounds, and remembering that I have been here in fall, winter, summer, and finally spring, I began for the first time to feel a sense of completeness about my experiences in Japan. Certainly there is so much more for me to see and learn – and not only about the language – but I am starting to have hope that I’ll leave Japan satisfied with my year here.

Sakura at the Path of Philosophy

2006-04-14T17:43:00.000+09:00

I can let these pictures speak for themselves. The only addition I could make would be to say that the Path of Philosophy in Kyoto is a special place for me, and it has been for several years. Seeing it in full bloom under blue skies was a significant event – the kind of day I hope to remember when life gets complicated. Or, rather, since it is impossible not to reflect on our own ephemeral existence when surrounded by the short-lived blooms, I hope to remember what I saw whenever I feel like wasting a day away.

Sumo in Osaka

2006-03-25T16:48:00.000+09:00

So I finally went and saw sumo – though, actually, very few Japanese people have seen sumo live. Most people see the highlights on television, or even tune in live, but physically being in the stadium is not common.

Sumo is rich with opportunities for insight into the Japanese soul. But as the Japanese have at least three hearts (for the public, for the family, and for the self), any truths to be found in the world of sumo wear layered masks. Quite naturally then, when the false appearances are removed, irony is often revealed.

How can a country of the skinny, one of the few industrialized countries not facing an obesity epidemic, turn its broadest members into revered athletes? These massive men, who I saw walking around outside the Osaka sumo arena wearing traditional Japanese clothes, stand out. They are exceptional, in a country where the idiomatic warning reads, “The nail that sticks out gets hammered down.” For them to grow to such gigantic proportions (though there are svelte competitors, and there are no weight classes) requires its own form of discipline. How can these images of barely concealed flapping flesh be reconciled with the merciless way my old host mother reminded me I was fat, or how the lacrosse players call an ever-so-slightly pudgy guy “fatty”?

Is sumo a sport? Yes. Is it just a sport? No.

There is a structure like the top of a Shinto shrine that hangs above the sumo arena. From each corner hangs a colored rope that signifies one of the four seasons, and there are four major tournaments a year (as well as two smaller, more recently added ones). The referee in the ring wears a kimono of the style worn by samurai in the Kamakura Period (about 600 years ago) and the traditional hat of a Shinto priest. What if tennis courts were built to remind us of the monasteries in which the sport was invented, perhaps with the officials wearing the smocks of abbots? Sumo remains deeply rooted in its origins, in the seasons, and in its country. This is little doubt of the connection between sumo and the nationalist movement.

Yet the current grand master “yokozuna” (Asasyoryu), as well as his predecessor Akebono, are foreigners. The rising star of Japanese sumo, Kotooshu, is not even Asian in appearance. Although I was lucky enough to see Asasyoryu face Kotooshu, Kotooshu was injured and it was not much of a contest. I was surprised, generally, with the number of foreign wrestlers. Even more surprising was how the die-hard fans seemed mostly warm to the foreigners – one of them got the biggest welcoming ovation of the day.

Sumo has a history of 1500 years. Yet if one were to take every major tournament ever held and add up the amount of time during which two wrestlers were actually engaging in physical competition, I be surprised if a week’s worth of action has taken place. In the course of the four hours I was at the stadium, there were about twenty-five matches. Each actual match lasts a few seconds – if a full minute elapses, that is quite a happening. Most of the time is spent ritually calling the wrestlers’ names, watching an intricate display of throwing rice to purify the ring, and then looking on as the two combatants engage in psychological combat as they line up to battle only to back away and start the whole process anew.

Prior to going to the tournament I thought that it would end up being a good experience, but rather boring. I thought it would be like football, but with ten-minute huddles. However, I only left my seat once during the entire four-hour affair, and then I almost ran in order not to miss anything. There is something captivating about the built-up tension that explodes into focused intensity as the bout enfolds. At the same time, I would not go alone – it was nice to have Kavitha and Kristin along to talk with… sort of like an afternoon baseball game.

I cannot claim to understand sumo any better after seeing it firsthand, but it was a fabulous experience found only in Japan, only at a few special times a year. Though I still would have liked to watch Duke lose to LSU in the NCAA Basketball Tournament, I guess this will have to do.

A new dish…

2006-03-20T21:43:00.000+09:00

As I mentioned briefly, fellow Fulbright Fellow Luke is in town this weekend for some interviews with people in Osaka. He is staying with me, and was kind enough to teach me how to make Japanese Nabe. “Nabe” just means “pot” and that sort of sums up what this dish is all about. You take an earthenware pot, heat some water/dashi/suger/sake, and then add in several vegetables/tofu/minced chicken balls/etc. Here is a picture of the finished nabe – as you can see, I am still fascinated by red carrots.

The result is very tasty. Recently I was told that nabe is sort of like Japanese soul food. I am looking forward to experimenting with the full spectrum of nabe cooking so that I can introduce it to others when I return to the States. Luke also taught me how to make my own miso soup, and the result is so good that I’m embarrassed to have eaten pre-packaged miso soup for so long. In the end, we had a great big Japanese meal, complete with dry sake (heated to body temperature) to match the nabe.

March Sports

2006-03-18T21:39:00.000+09:00

These are the days of college basketball. A month of bracket-building, rooting for upsets, and constructing a lifestyle that maximizes the number of viewable games. At least, college basketball was synonymous with March while I was in school. In Kobe, however, March is a time for Ikanago (a delicious dish of stewed sand eel), as well as cherry-blossom forecasts added onto every news program.

But what about sports? Although the Hanshin Tiger will take to the field in a few weeks, watching spring training updates cannot make up for the Final Four. This year the supposed answer revolved around the World Baseball Classic. Haven’t heard of it? I figured it probably didn’t make too much news in the States because many of the professional baseball players didn’t join the team (they are ever-so devoted to their monetary master) and after a few embarrassing loses, the nation of baseball left the stage. Today, though, I watched a great semi-finals game between Japan and South Korea. Japan won, and I certainly hope they will the finals against Cuba here in a few days.

Still, baseball cannot quench a thirst for basketball. As luck would have it, Japan started up a professional basketball league this year. It is called the BJ League. About a month ago a friend let me know that Mott Lottich, a player at Stanford during the same years I was there, is playing on Osaka’s team. The team’s name is the Evessa, which may be a play off of Ebisu… a god of fortune in business, etc. Thinking of Lottich’s long-range shots, which are often followed by a comically serious fist-pump and neck-vein bulge, brought back many memories of Stanford games. Check out his playing card.

On Saturday I took advantage of this unique opportunity to reminisce/feed my need for March basketball. Luke, who is visiting from Hiroshima, went with me to Osaka to see the Evessa play. I was thoroughly impressed with the size of the crowd, but the circus-like atmosphere was a little odd. Speakers absolutely blasted the name of whoever made a basket over and over. Here is a funny example, for those of you who watch the show 24 – “DAVID DAVID DAVID…. DAVID PALMER. PALMER. DAVID PALMER.” Imagine this, after every basket, at ear-splitting volume, for the entire game.

I managed to get a short video of a three-point shot by Lottich. I also bought an Osaka Evessa shirt with Lottich’s name and number on the back. Although I wore my Stanford 6th Man shirt to the game and tried all means of getting Lotty’s attention, I failed to turn his head my direction. Though it wasn’t as good as the Stanford-Arizona game where I camped out beforehand with the guys and Nick Robinson made a miraculous shot to win the game, sealing its fate as an ESPN Instant Classic, the BJ League is not bad at all. It was a little sad that while both teams had no more than half gaijin, these gaijin played the huge majority of the game. This was so apparent that a few fans sitting nearby starting yelling, “Put in the Japanese players!” Even after the Evassa win, these guys booed the coach and berated him for not playing the natives.

Though I still miss the NCAA Tournament, I felt much refreshed after watching the game. Next March I will miss Kobe’s ikanago, but I think that endless hours in front of basketball-laden television will get me through it.

Monthly Report for March

2006-03-17T12:37:00.000+09:00

Period Covering: February 16 – March 15, 2005
To: The Japan-United States Educational Commission
From: Kenneth Robert Gundle
Affiliation: Kobe University Faculty of Law
Research Topic: The relationship between Japan’s brain death dilemma and the country’s interest in tissue engineering research.

Personal Update:

I am sorry this report is coming in a little late. Many things have been put aside, day by day, as I have been waiting to hear from medical schools. Each day, I told myself, was “the day.” But over the last week, each day without news just sort of added to the inertia. Luckily, I did get the call from my parents this morning, and am happy to say that in all likelihood I will be going to Harvard Medical School starting at the end of August.

On other personal matters, lacrosse has started up again, and a few weeks ago I went to a tournament in Shizuoka with the team. I was the only foreigner there, and turned quite a few heads. Actually playing in games was a total blast, and I felt that I really bonded with some of the guys during the course of the trip. The lacrosse team also had a Nomikai to celebrate the upcoming graduation of its seniors, and it included a touching movie tribute with game highlights of all the graduating players.

Research Update:

My research has officially entered its data-collection phase, as I have begun my interviews of doctors, lawyers, reporters, and other involved with brain death and regenerative medicine. So far I have only had two interviews, but every person I meet introduces me to another person I should talk with. It is nice to have the ball rolling.

I also attended a conference on regenerative medicine in Okayama last week, which was interesting precisely because it was so mundane. One would expect a conference entitled, “Anti-aging medicine and the post-transplant era” to be full of broad declarations and new discovers, but instead the session called “aiming at the forthcoming era of regenerative medicine” consisted of two mind-numbing hours of best-practice research methodologies. My impression of the meeting resonated with one comment by a person I interviewed, who said (my translation), “Yes, I’ve heard of regenerative medicine. I’ve heard of it so much I’m sick of it. Yet whenever I ask ‘when, what, or how’ about its new treatments, I never get a satisfactory answer.” As exciting as it is to be getting data, the prospect of transcribing and translating all my interviews is a little daunting.

Festival of Lacrosse

2006-03-08T23:30:00.001+09:00

I have never, luckily, had to learn the hard way to not go backpacking with brand-new boots. However, somehow I did not generalize this bit of knowledge for the case of cleats. Pain was to be my teacher. But before there can be pain, there has to be a ground to feel it on.

Most lacrosse fields in Japan (and soccer/baseball fields as well) are not “fields” as such, nor are they called fields. They are called “grounds,” and that is precisely what they are: ground, otherwise known as dirt. Grass is simply too expensive and difficult to maintain for any but the finest facilities. Not that the Japanese do not take care of their grounds; quite the opposite. Everyday after practice we rake the dirt smooth. I’m serious.

Yet rain poses a difficult scenario – while I was able to get accustomed to dirt instead of grass, lacrosse cannot be played in a pit of mud (despite how close a few of my high school games came). So to the dismay of the team, rain generally cancels practice. But what about the next day? It has not rained, but moisture remains just below the surface. A slopping mess quickly develops around the goal, and I find myself sliding all over the place, entirely unable to defend.

I did not bring cleats to Japan, but I did bring a pair of turf shoes. Of course, I did not intend to use them as turf shoes, but rather just as shoes to wear. Professor Gumbrecht remarked interestingly to me and other students studying abroad in Japan two years ago, young people primarily wear sports shoes, even when not playing sports. It is one of those things so true that I hadn’t really thought about it before (and, I might add, this observation is repeated in his about to be published book, entitled “In Praise of Athletic Beauty” – which I have read and highly recommend).

These white turf shoes, which I was momentarily reluctant to conscript into the dirtiness of actual sport, had served me well for months, only to lose their hold in the post-rain trenches. I needed cleats. And I needed them soon, as I was about to join the team on a trip to play in the annual lacrosse festival.

So, the short of it is that I bought a pair of cleats on Sunday, just hours before my first research interview. I will spare recounting my displeasure that a size 10 (28cm) is considered so large that sale prices do not apply. With the sparkling cleats neatly tucked away, I boarded a charted bus with about thirty members of the team early on Monday morning and headed east for Shizuoka.

Let me briefly expound on “members” and “Shizuoka.” By members, I mean the actual lacrosse players as well as the three cute college girls who are our managers and the several O.B. (old boys, or alumni) who act as the coaches. Shizuoka, then, is both a city and a prefecture located between the Kansai area and Tokyo (closer to Tokyo)… see the picture. I’m marginally sure that I went to Shizuoka the last time I was in Japan to observe some beehives that are maintained on a golf course – but let us not get into that unusual story.

The bus ride took about four hours, during which I must have slept because it went quickly. We arrived at Tumagoi Resort (つま恋), a thoroughly un-Japanese sized compound filled with all types of sports facilities, a massive hotel and convention center, and rolling hills sprinkled with the green tea plants that the area is famous for cultivating (of course, I bought some as a present to give to people back in Kobe). Our bus parked alongside many others just like it, right down to the lacrosse-playing occupants. As the team collected our baggage from the bus and made our way to the meeting area for the lacrosse tournament, one distinguishing feature of our group became apparent: me. I was the only white person, probably the only non-Japanese, at the entire festival. Walking through the halls, past the dozens of teams (easily identifiable by their Boathouse jackets), I felt a lot of stares and heard a single word on many lips: Gaijin.

The Kobe University Lacrosse Team split into two teams for the festival: the Buttans (named after one of the players, who prefers that I call him Broccoli) and the Surfers. Guess which one I was on… when I got back to Japan, there was considerable disappointed at the first practice I attended when the players realized I was not blond – apparently two months of practicing together had not been long enough for them to break the Aryan connection between white skin and blond hair. We made hooded sweatshirts for the team, and mine bore my name in kanji instead of a jersey number. One of these days I’ll write about the significance of these characters – for now, just check out the picture. Anyway, I was a surfer, though in the Japanese pronunciation the word sounds a lot more like “suffer.”

In fact, “suffer” may have been a more apt name for the team. While blessed with several of the better attack and defense players, we had an inexperienced goalie and mostly inexperienced midfielders. This resulted in a lot of difficulty in clearing the ball up to the attack, or keeping control of the ball once it was up there. Our one battle-tested middie was injured in our first game (a win), and that basically pulled the curtains on any chance of doing particularly well.

However, if I ever get around to explaining what a “lacrosse festival” is, the reader might appreciate the purpose of our trip and not despair about my team’s dismal finishing record. This festival/tournament is held every year in March, right before the beginning of a new Japanese school year. This is a unique point in the year, as incoming freshman are not around, nor are the seniors who are about to graduate. In Japan the rising seniors are also occupied, as this is when they travel around doing interviews to find post-graduate employment. Who is left: the rising sophomores and juniors, who happen to be the players least likely to have game experience. The lacrosse festival, then, becomes a chance for these players to get into the action. I thought it was an elegantly conceived event. And while there is a tournament going on, all teams play the same number of games (except for the finalists, who play for the championship at the very end while everyone watches).

So how did I do? I had a blast, and am proud to report that I leveled a good number of opposing players. There is a video recording of the games, and at some point I’ll put together a highlights reel. Look at this picture of me in a Kobe uniform – see the tracks behind? Those are Shinkansen (bullet train) tracks, and the trains screamed by regularly. While I wanted to get a picture with one in the shot, you can imagine the difficulty of timing this out, and I felt a little awkward acting like a tourist into of a competitor. Playing lacrosse with trains hurling past was unforgettable. (By the way, the sparse grass on this field makes it an incredible field, the likes of which I'm unlikely to play on again.)

Each night, when all the players were sore and tired, we went to an open-air Onsen (hot spring). Once you get over the throngs of naked dudes, all the boiling hot baths with overhanging stars are quite relaxing. There was a sauna, and an ice-cold water bath that served me well as a perfect break from the hotter pools that I’m still not used to. I slept like a baby each night.

I expected being sore in the mornings after playing as many of four games a day. There is the stiffness in the legs, the tight arm and neck muscles, and the smattering of welts and cuts from getting checked by opposing players. What I did not expect was that by the final day, I could hardly lift my legs up to sprint. My knees sent ringing signals of pain anytime I tried to move faster than a jog. What is more, pain accompanied each and every contact between either foot and the earth. The soles of my feet were so tender that I wanted to walk around on my tiptoes. The cause: wearing cleats for eight or so hours straight when I hadn’t so much as put on a pair in more than four years.

All I wanted was some aspirin for the swelling, and I asked one of the managers. While they have ice and bandages, and they use a plastic wrap to attach, by hand, little ice bags to wherever you are sore, there were no painkillers. Neither was there sunscreen for my pale, pale skin – needless to say, my face/neck/legs were a raw shade of pink by the end (as these were literally the first days of sunny spring weather, I hadn’t bought any of my own yet).

The physical pain was more than balanced out by the enjoyment of the entire trip. I think I finally started bonding with the guys – while I am a foreigner to them, in the presence of other Japanese it is like I become “their foreigner” – I am more a part of the team than players at other schools, regardless of my nationality. Friendship seems to be replacing mere “niceties,” at least with some of the guys. Here is a picture of me with one of the rising sophomores – another defender.

What did I do when I returned from Shizuoka, back in Kobe after three fully-lived days and another long bus ride? I went to bed at midnight, and woke up at 5 am to travel in the other direction, to Okayama, for an academic conference on regenerative medicine.

よい助言を望むなら老人に相談しなさい。

2006-02-28T22:09:00.000+09:00

Japanese Idiom #1: "If you want good advice, ask your elders!"

Failing to accomplish anything worthy of mention on a daily basis, I have been delinquent in updating this site. In order to reverse the trend, I am going to write about some of my more “normal” type of activities, while also introducing the Japanese idioms that I enjoy studying. (Don’t worry - I’ll be translating any Japanese as I go).

The little phrase for today could more strictly be translated, “If you wish for good advice, go consulate an elderly person!” I used to heed this call by visiting with veterans at a VA Hospital near Stanford, but that is no longer possible. And while I occasionally eat dinner, etc. with adults that I know here in Japan, I generally do not go right out and ask for advice about life (there is also a difference between the adult and the elderly).

So instead, I have been going everyday to the Shinto Shrine nearest my apartment. This shrine made an appearance in my New Year’s Day entry, and in the course of that brief visit I sort of fell in love with the place. Each time there I enter under the characteristic Shinto arch, and then walk to a small area where I ritually wash my hands – cleaning off before conversing with the deities. Suitably prepared, I go to an alter off to one side of the main building, where I throw a few coins in an offering box before clapping twice (to let the gods know I’m there) and taking ten slow breaths. While this breathing exercise isn’t Shinto practice, I find it refreshing to slow down for a minute or so and pay attention solely to my breath and the sounds around me; I can hear tree-bound birds chirping, water running, children playing in the nearby park, and buses rolling by on the road outside the shrine.

To explain how this relates at all to the idiom I quoted above, I have to explain (at least my interpretation of) Shinto. It is sort of a religion. Deities reside in all things – from rocks to honeybees to humans. Shinto preserves a close location to the ground and nature – the shrine I go to quite literally is the shrine for that area.

Going to the shrine is a way for me to pay respects to the place I live and the people who came before me. I often think of my grandfather Papa, and each day I ask myself what Papa would think of my recent activities. Would I be proud to recount the past twenty-four hours to him? I have found this to be an excellent benchmark for myself, and although I recognize that I am self-reflectively assessing the path I’m walking, seeing it through the perspective of my admirable grandfather both gives me some distance for analysis and acts as a simple way for me to honor and remember the grounding influences in my life.

An odd thing happened when I went yesterday. After taking my ten breaths, during which I close my eyes, I bowed to the shrine and then looked up at the offering and display area in front of me. Through wooden slits of the far wall, I saw some movement on the stairway leading to the inner sanctuary of the shrine. No one is allowed back there except the priests, and that was who I figured I saw. I spent quite a few seconds starring hard and moving left-and-right to see through a variety of the wooden slates. This was no man – it was a cat! The obvious size difference was hard to ascertain due to a mild optical illusion, and even after I made this realization I thought I was gawking at a huge feline sitting on the porch of divinity. And why not?

Oh... Harvard

2006-01-27T21:16:00.000+09:00

There is only one medical school that has a painting of the first ever kidney transplant, and can claim that it occurred just minutes away from the library it is housed in.

There is only medical school whose main building rivals national monuments for elegance and awe, and whose floor is marble.

That is all I have to say about that – Harvard Medical School is in a special class, and it was a pleasure to be asked to interview there.

Back in the Capital and on the Capitol

2006-01-26T21:23:00.000+09:00

I love Washington DC. It is a fabulous city, especially when you can stay with a good friend (in this case Gus) just a few blocks from Union Station.

I’ll keep this brief, mostly because I have been hassled to get these posts up – if you have any specific questions, ask away! I had a day before my interview at Georgetown Medical School, and I used it to go up to the Capitol area and happened to run into Ian Rogers – a classmate from high school! We had lunch, and I found out that my childhood sweetheart, my first love and first kiss, is now dating Ian’s older brother, who was in my older brother’s class! Sort of an odd and private thing to publish here, I guess, but wow – I am still floored about it.

Later on in the day, I got a chance to give my regards to my Uncle Bobby at the Vietnam Memorial and take a look at the new World War II Memorial. You can see the “Oregon” pillar in this picture. Gus and I also went to the new Museum of the Native American, which is housed in a spectacular building.

Kenny in... Cleveland?

2006-01-23T20:58:00.000+09:00

Traveling to Cleveland to interview at Case Western Reserve University provided me a chance to visit one of America’s greatest hospitals: The Cleveland Clinic. In yet another city, a kind friend took me in and showed me around the area. In Cleveland I stayed with Mai, who went to Stanford and volunteered at a VA Hospital with me. Her family is Japanese, so I got to watch NHK television off the satellite and eat home cooked Japanese food along with authentic green tea (which is impossible to find in the airports and convenience stores of America). Mai’s father works at The Cleveland Clinic, so she knew the facility and showed me around.

Signs, billboards, commemorative t-shirts and every other variety of media insure that all visitors realize that U.S. News & World Report has named The Cleveland Clinic the best heart center in America for 11 straight years. It also happens to be the third best hospital in the country/world. To insure its ongoing dominance the Clinic is currently building a massive new tower that is entirely devoted to cardiology-related medicine and research. To not be fooled by images of a small “clinic” with magazines littering the waiting room; The Cleveland Clinic is a massive compound of comprehensive, state-of-the-art medical care.

The affiliated hospitals of Case Western’s Medical School are a significant factor in the school’s own high U.S. News & World Report ratings. The dean spoke to the applicants to kick off the interview day, and I was impressed by his passion. Some of his goals for the school mirror my own hopes for the future of medicine, particularly his desire to rebuild the public trust in medicine through developing leaders who are schooled in civic professionalism as well as clinical excellence. He is not simply talking about change; the next incoming class will be met by a revised curriculum that includes a thesis requirement and a systems-based (as opposed to organs-based) approach to the basic sciences.

While the facilities of the school are beautiful from the outside, the medical school building has a significant lack of windows and a wealth of white concrete walls. It is moderately difficult for a novice to navigate the buildings, but I did manage to find the schools center for biomedical ethics. The chair of the department is Dr. Stuart Younger, who is one of the most famous names of the field. Although I did not have an appointment, Dr. Younger was kind enough to meet with me for half an hour to discuss one of CWRU’s greatest advantages: a combined MD/MA in bioethics.

Outside of O’Hara

2006-01-21T21:07:00.000+09:00

I do not get along with the Chicago O’Hara International Airport. Countless experiences with lost baggage, cancelled or delayed flights, and mad-dashes along the horizontal escalator between terminals (with its weird neon lighting) have left a bad taste in my mouth that neither gum nor brushing nor mouthwash can conquer. Unfortunately, I could not help but carry some negative images of Chicago as a result of its airport. Even though every person I’ve talked to about Chicago has raved about the city, I was skeptical.

Luckily, my hectic schedule somehow permitted me most of a weekend to interview at Northwestern Medical School and explore the city. Additionally, I was fortunate enough to have a high school classmate and friend, Margot, to guide me around the thoroughly large metropolis.
Margot went to University of San Francisco, so we saw each other occasionally while at college, and now she has a great job working in promotions for a global company with big-name clients. Here is a picture of us checking out some Chicago Deep-Dish Pizza.

Northwestern, like the city of Chicago, was a relative unknown to me before the interview. The medical school is located right in downtown (an area called “The Loop”) and its buildings are gorgeous, largely new, and spectacularly equipped. I’ll admit that I like the little things like nice chairs, well lit but warm classrooms, seamlessly integrated technology, and a general atmosphere that feels classy. Northwestern gets the highest possible marks on all counts, although I’m not a huge fan of the color purple – which is the school’s ubiquitous shade. And check out this (unaltered) picture from the Millenium Park that is right there along the lake.

The actual interviews at Northwestern were structured far differently than anything I had previously experienced. First there was a fifteen-minute chat with an administrator, which was basically just an opportunity to update my application file and ask questions. The main event was a group interview composed of four applicants and a three-member panel. There was an emeritus professor, an attending physician, and a fourth-year student on the panel, but none of them had read our applications – a so-called “blind” or “closed-file” interview.

During the bulk of the ninety-minute session the panel members asked questions of individual applicants. Instead of specific questions about our interests, we were asked some of those interview questions you only think exist in guidebooks. Here are some examples:
“If you could eat dinner with one person, who would it be?”
“What is a moment that you are ashamed of?”
“Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

Although the questions were generic, I really enjoyed the opportunity to see how other people respond to the interview environment. One guy in my group, who had been a talkative guy all morning, suddenly became dry-lipped and tongue -tied at the simplest of queries. I felt bad for him at one particularly awkward moment reminiscent of “Meet the Parents.”

The innovative part of the interview was when the group was asked to work together and solve a problem. Our group clicked well and no one tried to steamroller the conversation.

Margot had quite a treat in store for me after my interview – Bulls tickets! It turned out to be a great game, with Tracey McGrady of the visiting Rockets bringing down 35 points and knocking in a bucket to win in double overtime. United Arena was great, as the picture shows, but after the game another surprise awaited me: SNOW! I really wanted a picture in front of the Jordan statue, which I got, but a monster snowflake basically is blocking my entire face…

Heaven in New Haven?

2006-01-18T21:02:00.000+09:00

The city of New Haven has a bad reputation that it does not entirely deserve. The area surrounding the main Yale University campus is peppered with cafes, small restaurants that serve food from around the world, bookstores and high-end clothing outlets. The night I arrived there were large numbers of students walking along snow and ice covered sidewalks.

My interview day began unthinkably early – a hotel porter felt sorry for me and bestowed a coupon for free breakfast. Although I headed over to the medical school thirty minutes early, which turned out to be worthless as I had to huddle around a locked door, the shuttle driver told me that many of the applicants are so nervous that they take the shuttle at 6 am (we are asked to arrive by 7:45 am).

Yale Medical School has its own campus located just a few blocks from the main University. The buildings are thrown up at odd angles and are architecturally mixed between gothic/brick/contemporary from the outside, but are connected by thoroughly renovated walkways and underground tunnels. Yale is the first medical school I’ve seen that has a dorm for its first-year students located right at the school, and its living situation seems to succeed in creating a collaborative environment. “The Yale System” further minimizes competition between students – there are no grades for the first two years and many tests are voluntary/anonymous.

I had two interviews: one with a student and one with a faculty member. The faculty member asked me about the Supreme Court ruling on Oregon’s physician-assisted suicide law (good thing I had checked the news, as the ruling had only come down the previous day!). Overall, I’d say these two interviewers tested the depth of my knowledge by asking several follow-up questions. This made the interviews more interesting rather than stressful or hostile.

A tour and financial aid briefing rounded out the rest of the interview day. At lunch I met a second-year student looking at applying for a Fulbright! I gave her a bunch of tips, and was myself impressed that the school encourages a fifth year for research, classes, travel, or baby-making, and gives it to students tuition-free. During the tour I thought that the lecture hall for first year students needs a renewal, but the library was top-notch: not only did it have a “Harry Potter” feel, but it also boasts a preserved steak that Louis Pasteur carved his name into.

Yale sold itself well throughout the day. I was concerned that the school might have an East Coast attitude, or that its students might be as glum as many of the Yale undergraduates I know, but I saw it as season-blessed version of Stanford. The thesis requirement at Yale appears to accomplish many of the same objectives sought by Stanford’s scholarly concentration system, and the grade-less curriculum engenders the kind of cooperation I am looking for in a school.

I was done by 4 pm and took a train back to New York City. As I arrived back at Mike and Josh’s apartment, it was definitely in my mind that going to Yale would mean being able to explore some new cities and visit all my friends on the East Coast.

Keeping in touch is a wonderful thing to do.

2006-01-17T21:00:00.000+09:00

After a few great days with Stanford drawmates Josh, Mike, and Gus in New York City, I had the unique opportunity to see an old friend in New Jersey. Erica, who was a page in the House of Representatives with me in the summer of 2000, invited me to stay with her family in New Jersey. The two of us had kept in touch with the occasional email or phone call these past six years, and it was great to finally get a chance to see her.

I took a train up to Dover, where I was met by Erica and her father. After a home-cooked meal at a neighbor’s house, Erica and I chatted with her parents past midnight - there is a picture below. The two of us were up until three – six years without seeing each other had left plenty to talk about. The next day I got a tour of the family’s beautiful restaurant and then we drove the two hours to New Haven. I certainly hope it won’t be another six years before I see Erica again!

Stopping by the NYC

2006-01-16T20:54:00.000+09:00

So although I did not interview at any New York schools, I spent MLK Jr. weekend with Josh, Mike, and Gus (who came up from Washington DC) in New York City. It is hard to feel bad for these guys, who literally live on Times Square. Though I was only there a few days, I got a since of the immense opportunities that come from this location.

My first night there, the guys had a hard time respecting that I might be tired from my interview ordeal thus far. Here is a picture of us after joining the prestigious ‘Century Club’ – if you don’t know what that is, don’t ask.

The next day was slightly more cultural. We went to Central Park…

the American Museum of Natural History (which to me is the Teddy Roosevelt Museum, see the picture of me with my hero!)…

and the Metropolitan Museum of Art (I’m such a sucker for stained glass). There was also an interesting exhibit on Santiago Calatrava that almost tempted me to buy a poster, though I had no idea how I'd get it back to Japan in one piece.

I was not impressed with the hash browns-lacking diner, but I guess you cannot have it all. Maybe I should have ordered the blintzes…

Back on the Farm…

2006-01-12T20:46:00.000+09:00

While blue skies greeted me as I touched down at San Jose International Airport, a slight drizzle of memories began dripping into my consciousness. By the time I was picked up by Brenden and watched as we drove up the 101, exited on the Oregon Expressway, turned right on El Camino and finally entered the Stanford campus, a downpour of nostalgia had washed away any thoughts of my interview the following day.

It did not take long to realize that my scheduled 30 hours on campus was vastly insufficient. Although an eagerness to see a great many of my college friends, professors, and the campus itself swept away my lingering jetlag and sleep debt, rushing to make the most of my brief time meant that I ultimately left feeling guilty over a certain shallowness in some of my interactions. I have to apologize anyone that I either did not see at all, or met briefly but failed to properly catch-up with.

The inadequacies of the trip were not for a lack of trying. Each moment was packed, which might have been the precise problem, as well as the reason that I nearly passed out from exhaustion while Micah drove me back to the airport just twenty-four hours after my arrival. As the next season of “24” starts tomorrow, I now have a glimpse of what Jack feel like.

After checking out Scott, Brenden, James and Johnny’s spacious “Grad Pad” I took a long walk around campus, glancing over Hoover Tower, the Main Quad, and the “05” marker that rests right outside the Human Biology department that I graduated from. The square now bears a few scratches, foot prints, and tire marks, all of which mask that only seven months ago I watched as it was lowered into place.

That night I went to Celia’s for its massive burrito along with a bunch of guys who were available. Listening to the stories and adventures I had missed while drinking an Anchor Steam beer (a welcomed change from the homogeny of Japanese beer), I envied those who chose to stay at Stanford for at least another year.

Around this time I began to ponder about my own possible return to Stanford. Even after the rest of the guys had gone to bed after we watched some fine American television, I suddenly could not sleep. I remembered that the next day was my first medical school interview.

Kenny in... Portland?

2006-01-07T20:43:00.000+09:00

The accuracy of this site’s title may come under scrutiny over the following three weeks. I am headed back to the United States with the primary objective of interviewing at medical schools, though I equally look forward to visiting family and friends as I jet set my way across the land. Yet as I packed my bags, tidied up my apartment and boarded my plane, I had an odd feeling. While I am going to the United States, I am not returning to the United States. I am but a visitor, and after a short break I will be back in Japan. Perhaps this site’s title is all the more appropriate: Kobe is where I live, and the United States is simply my travel destination.

The first destination was my hometown of Portland in the honorable State of Oregon. A brief four day visit hardly made-up for missing out on Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years, but I packed in as much quality family time as I could. In my quest to out-smart jetlag I adopted the strategy of sleep-deprivation; I’d much rather fight my closing eyes than not be able to sleep at night. This mission was aided by my discovery of a Clive Clussler novel entitled “Black Wind” at the Kansai International Airport – I’ve never been able to sleep while speed-reading through a Dirk Pitt adventure, and I enjoyed this pleasure all the more because I had hardly read this kind of novel (in English!) for a long time.

Though this resulted in my arriving in a tired state on Friday night, I hopped out of bed the next day excited about seeing my little brother Michael play in a basketball tournament. Although the Japanese have a custom of only making disparaging remarks about one’s family, I have no reservation in saying that my brother is a “baller.” Actually, he is a pure athlete, excelling in cross-country, basketball, and track. More than just talent, Michael has a driven personality and the will to push his limits whenever he enters an arena of competition. It was a pleasure to see him on the court again, both on Saturday and Sunday. Here is a picture of Michael and our cousin Mitchell. Watching his games in a family event that always reminds me of how my grandfather Papa would never miss a game any of his grandsons.

Grandsons are something that Papa had in droves, and with the sole exception of myself, they are all quite the athletes. Saturday night I was happy to go out to Chili’s for an American-sized burger with my family, and thrilled that my Aunt Debbie, Uncle Brent, and cousins Matt, Dustin, and Mitchell could join us.

After a weekend of basketball and family, on Monday I accompanied my Dad up to his restaurant. The Red Panda Mongolian Grill in Hood River, Oregon (right off of I-84 if you’re curious) opened just weeks before I left for Japan, and there is a post or two describing my experience working as a cook. I was glad to see that the restaurant is a success and that the last few months brought additional refinement to its operation. It was nice to see some of the employees I had worked with, and I even found out that a few of them have read this site!

I did not cook that day, as I had a spent a lot of time on the internet and phone. Interview requests are still coming in, and I had to plead with interview coordinators to squeeze me in on the free days I have in the States. This has resulted in my schedule becoming increasingly cramped, but I have been lucky to fit so many interviews into such a short time period.

For my last full day in Portland my mother made an exquisite baked chicken dinner – one of my favorites! There really is no place like home… especially my house, which is made unique by its five indoor dogs that are treated like, and act like, young children. I absolutely love the boxers, and must respect the miniature poodle that survives each day against all odds. One has to wonder if my parents might be replacing children with dogs as their nest empties.

So you think you know Japanese food?

2006-01-02T21:36:00.000+09:00

What is the first thing that enters your mind when Japanese food is mentioned? Is it rice? Is it sushi, or fish?

Though they are a skinny people, Japanese take food very seriously (recall the TV show “Iron Chef”) and have subtle taste buds. Rice is the crop that sustains the people and marks the seasons as it is planted, grown and harvested both on major farms and in little patches of clear land in suburbs. Yet, and perhaps this is a modern symptom, it seems to me that Japanese people do not eat all that much rice… nothing like the portions I see piled unto plates in the States. Several of the host families I lived with eat rice at breakfast occasionally, but at dinner it is only brought out and eaten after the main dishes of vegetables and fish are served.

Perhaps you thought sushi? It is entirely possible that I eat sushi more often in the United States then here in Japan. Part of the reason is cost, but that isn’t it entirely. I do not think that sushi is something often made in your ordinary household – you go out for sushi or buy it pre-made. There are, generally, two types of sushi restaurants: cozy, traditional, expensive dens where you remove your shoes and sit on tatami mats; and loud, conveyor-belt joints that are brightly lit and packed with people. I’ve found that either because of the width of my shoulders, or some other reason, that I simply enjoy eating more if I don’t have to worry about knocking into the guy next to me – so conveyor-belt sushi is not exactly my thing. Regardless, there are far more ramen and okonomiyake stores than sushi shops, at least where I live.

So what am I getting at? It has to do with fish, and kanji. When I think of Japanese food, I think of fish. Going into a grocery store and having the seafood section far-outstrip the chicken/beef area still shocks me. When it comes to cooking in the home, every host family I’ve ever lived with eats fish on the large majority of days, with meat being a once or twice a week affair (for dinner at least).
The kanji characters for Japanese are a terrible pain to learn, but they do afford quite a good opportunity to investigate the roots of a word. In Japanese, the character for fish is 魚, and it is pronounced “sakana.” (Actually, that character refers to fish in the sea, and this character – 肴 – is for fish to eat. The pronunciation, however, is the same.) While this is the modern character for fish, the ancient character was 酒菜. The connection phonetically is pretty clear, as these two characters are read “sakena.” Perhaps the first of the two characters looks familiar? It is the symbol for “sake” (and that is how it is read). The two characters together basically mean, “what you eat when drinking sake.” I just found it interesting that in Japan, where fish are a huge part of the diet, that the word is originally defined in terms of its relationship to alcohol. And I can attest that, still to this day, a great number of Japanese drink sake (or beer) with every fish-filled dinner.
As interesting as the reader may or may not find this post, it probably sounds odd for me to throw this aside in right here and now. The reason I brought it up has to do with New Year’s, and the special food that are eaten to celebrate. In many cases the meanings attached to the food eaten on the first of January are because of other words, with different kanji, that could be pronounced the same as the food. Though I did not get all the proper food items, I did prepare a few dishes that were probably eaten throughout the country on New Year’s Day (just FYI: these food are called “Osechi-ryori” – おせち料理).

First, check out this picture of ingredients. The black beans, which are somewhat sweet, are eaten because the word for bean (“na-me”) can also be written using the characters that mean loyalty and hard work (though this is not their usual pronunciation). I forgot exactly what the red-carrot means, but I had never seen a red carrot before and wanted to try it out. Unsurprisingly, it tastes like a carrot. I had to put up another picture to prove that it is in fact red, through and through. Finally, the white disks are mochi – rice pounded until it becomes a paste. This mochi was made in the countryside, and is put into miso soup and eaten on New Year’s Day. Because miso soup and mochi can taste different in the different regions of Japan, this dish signifies one’s connection to their surrounding area.

Now check out the final result. You can see the mochi sticking out of the miso soup – in the hot water, it puffs out and gets sticky. There is brown rice under the beef, red carrots and onions (not a traditional dish, but thoroughly delicious). And what is that? An apple? Yep… it took three months, but I finally found apples for an expensive yet acceptable price – four Fuji apples for $1.50 (apples are usually about a dollar a piece).

Anyway, I guess the take-away point is that the Japanese are serious about their food (and sake).

元旦: New Year’s Day

2006-01-01T21:32:00.000+09:00

While New Year’s Eve was slightly disappointing, the first day of 2006 made up for it. Instead of spending the day recovering in front of a football-laden television, I followed the massive Japanese crowds to give my regards to the gods. Despite generally insisting that they are “not religious,” the sheer number of Japanese who show up at Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples at traditional days around the calendar suggests differently. New Year’s Day is for going to Shinto shrines, and at each of the two places I went, you could expect about an hour’s wait during the afternoon if you wanted to offer some change and say a prayer in front of the main hall.

This first picture shows the queue at my neighborhood shrine. I opted not to wait – I’ll go give my regards to these gods tomorrow. Ikita Shrine in Sannomiya was an absolute sea of people. Rather than standing in line all afternoon, I figured that if I waited until evening then the crowds might diminish. Having a few hours to burn, I took advantage of the cheap movie tickets sold only on the first day of each month (celebrating the first movie ever shown in Japan, on December 1st in Kobe) to see King Kong. Going to a movie theatre alone has a slightly odd feel to it, but the movie was impressive. By the time it was over, the shrine crowds had dropped off to manageable levels, and I said my piece to the gods. It was sort of like stating my resolutions for the year in front of a witness I’d hate to disappoint.

For some reason, no one at the shrine was taking pictures, which is unusual – so I played along. I did, however, snap an interesting picture outside the movie theatre, which happens to be right next to Sannomiya’s busy station. This was the first Evangelical Christian sign-holder I’d ever seen in Japan. Apparently the massive gathering at the Shinto shrines prompted some Christians to point out, as the sign reads, “Christ forgives sin.” Actually, I had sort of a nostalgic feeling, as the same sort of demonstration was not uncommon at Stanford. Instead of the strong-voiced man reading from the Bible that I was familiar with, though, this man had a recorded speech that was broadcast over loudspeakers; a little impersonal for my tastes, but I do not doubt that this guy was at his post for hours.

I ate some traditional New Year’s Day food for dinner, but I’m going to write about that in a separate post.

Now it is time to get after one of my deity-sworn resolutions: to write in my private journal every single day!

大晦日: New Year’s Eve

2006-01-01T21:29:00.000+09:00

I thought about having a quiet New Year’s Eve alone, but that is just silly. Especially since I had yet to take any descent pictures at my neighborhood bar, I decided my presence was required there. New Years is basically a family holiday in Japan, rather similar to Thanksgiving in the United States. The people at the bar fell into the same two categories that one might find around Thanksgiving in the States: college students going out with their friends from high school, and young unmarried couples who did not return to their family’s home for the holiday.

My affection for this establishment mostly comes from the three guys, all in their late-twenties, who work there everyday. All three went to the same high school in Kobe (the very same school attended by Haruki Murakami, whose “The Wind-up Bird Chronicle” I recently read), and a great number of the patrons also once went to the school. I can only imagine how great it would be if a few of my friends from high school or Stanford opened a bar. Despite being a foreigner, these guys were really nice to me from the first time I wandered in – they are funny guys, as seen in this pictures of all of us.

Another point in this bar’s favor is the seriousness with which it makes drinks. Here is a shot of the bartender, who uses an ice pick to personally construct all the ice cubes. For shochu he turns a block of ice into a sphere that fits perfectly into the glass. You can see one of his works in process in the photo.

While I stayed out until three in the morning just talking with all other partiers, the Countdown show in Japan was rather disappointing, and I didn’t even here Auld Lang Syne. The highlight of the evening was calling my brother Jeff at midnight Japan time, 4am Hawaii Time (on the 31st), to wish him Happy Birthday. Although the guys at the bar are great, no one can replace the friends I found myself missing.

Aren’t I Domestic: Part II

2005-12-31T21:27:00.000+09:00

A simple custom, but one I think deserves serious consideration in America, is that Japanese give their residences a top-to-bottom cleaning before New Year’s Day. Although my enthusiasm for cleaning is not exactly renowned, it was satisfying to vacuum under my kotatsu, scrub down the kitchen and bathroom, catch up 100% on my laundry, and not look over the little areas that usually get passed up. Luckily, both the size of my apartment and its “hard-wood” floors made the whole effort take under two hours.

Don’t I look happy in my sparkling bedroom? The act of cleaning out the dust and grime of 2005 left me feeling prepared to embrace 2006 – with all its own messes. Now… does this idea have any chance of picking up steam in the United States?

Two Meals – Aren’t I Domestic?

2005-12-29T21:20:00.000+09:00

Oh, you may have thought that my culinary adventure had ended – and indeed, I did go through a week where I lacked the resolve to cook myself – but I’m back. The problem was that I had worked myself into a routine, and I was essentially cooking the same thing everyday.

To break the monotony, I opted to learn to art of Okonomiyake – a pancake/omelet-like dish that is topped with a plum-ish sauce and served as a lunch or dinner item. Okonomiyake, which translates as “that honorable grilled food I like,” is really popular in Japan – even though most Americans have never heard of it.

It turns out that making it is really easy. I bought the batter (suspiciously like pancake batter) and sauce in the store, along with some shrimp, cabbage and onions. You add an egg to the batter along with some water, and then throw in the cabbage, onions, and whatever shrimp/pork/etc. you so desire. After mixing it up, you throw it on the grill (with some olive oil on it) and wait. The most difficult part is the flip – the picture here is from my third Okonomiyake meal. It is quite a tasty dish, and as you can tell from the ingredients, cheaper than almost anything.

Last night my cooking was a little less original, though instead of the sauces I normally grill my chicken in, I went with herbs and had good results. Doesn’t it look like a nice balanced meal? And of course, the left-overs tasted even better today for lunch. I might point out that Japanese chocolate suits me well… even the so-called “milk chocolate” is not very sweet.

Tranlating Pain, or its Lack

2005-12-26T20:51:00.000+09:00

In an earlier post, I mentioned I would be doing some translation work for a professor I met in Osaka. The professor’s name is Masahiro Morioka, and he is interested in bioethics and philosophy. He maintains a website at www.lifestudies.org that is worth checking out – if for no other reason than to read some of the translations I’ve done. The part I have finished is can be found by clicking here. It is part of the introduction for his most recent book, which is entitled “Painless Civilization.” Let me know what you think!

Last Lacrosse Practice

2005-12-22T20:48:00.000+09:00

Imagine waking up before dawn, stumbling around to get dressed while trying not to freeze, and making your way to practice only to spend three hours trying to avoid frostbite on your hands or slipping on the partially frozen dirt that serves as the field. This has been my lacrosse experience for the past two weeks, not to complain or anything. I missed a few practices due to a nasty cold I got at the first “frozen practice” we had, where the wind was so strong that it drew the ball off course and made it impossible to throw straight, but I have generally fought through the bitter temperatures.

Today, however, was the last practice of the winter. We get a month and a half off, and begin again in mid-February. I left this morning bundled up in two jackets, long underwear, gloves, a scarf and a wool hat: it was freezing outside, but clear skies prevailed. By the time the bus started climbing up the hillside to the university, though, grey clouds had moved in, and soon I saw my first Japanese snowflakes. They are not any different than American snowflakes. Even as cold as it had been, the memories of Japan’s humid summers made it hard for me to believe that it could ever snow here. The slight flurry intensified as we climbed up, and by the time we reached the lacrosse turf the snow was piling quickly on the frozen ground and anything else that stood in the way of its drive towards a white-covered world.

Yet, in spite of a mounting assault of snow, the lacrosse players prepared themselves for practice. I was a bit in shock, and you can tell from this picture that someone took on his cell phone. Lacrosse in the snow? Even Canadians don’t do any such thing – in fact, snow-plagued Canadian winters played a pivotal role in the development of indoor lacrosse. “Indoor lacrosse,” it was now clear to me, does not exist in Japan.

Luckily for the health and safety of the players, who could not warm up by tossing around because the ball disappeared in the snow-filled sky, the captains called off this practice. I celebrated by walking all the way home, enjoying greatly the noise of snow under my feet.

I greatly look forward to lacrosse resuming under more viable conditions, but I realize that all too soon the humidity will return again, and I’ll be wishing for some snow.

Darkness Into Light: Luminarie

2005-12-20T21:57:00.000+09:00

In 1995 the Great Hanshin earthquake shook Kobe, quite literary, to her knees. Though it occurred in January, in December of that year the city put on its first Luminarie to commemorate its dark days by lighting up the night in beauty. Kobe Luminarie is a two-week light festival that draws the throngs to a few major streets, which are decked-out with fantastic Christmas lights.

I went by myself to slowly take in a fascinating way to remember disaster. Approaching the main entrance along with the crowd, you turn a corner and suddenly see the lights. While still a few blocks away, their contrast with the surrounding darkness pull your entire attention.

With each following step, the mass of light differentiates into patterns and colors, until I was finally close enough to pick out the individual bulbs. Gorgeous, no? I had to aim the camera a little high, as the crowd was filled with an increasingly characteristic “Japanese” scene – a bunch of people each individually holding up cell phones to take pictures.

The lights create a tunnel, and walking underneath it felt less like daylight and more like intense starlight. I managed to get someone to take my picture – unfortunately the background is a little blurry. You can see that I was dressed for the frigid air, though the radiating heat from all the bulbs could be felt on the skin.

Along with this picture of the people leaving the tunnel, I thought I’d say a word or two about crowds. I know several people who specifically do not like crowds, and avoid areas were it is likely to be packed. While I don’t go around searching out rush hour on the trains or anything, I must admit an affinity for the masses. There is a power in the crowd, an energy that I can feel especially when alone amongst a large group of faceless strangers. This is no denying that I love people-watching, but my reverance for the masses is slightly different.

Anyway, I took a video of the other main area of Luminaire – a 360 degree plaza of lights. You should be able to click on the video and see it, as I uploaded it to Google Video.

Luminaire holds more meaning than the earthquake statue I once saw along the Kobe pier. It is a living memorial defined as much by the lights, which change each year, as by the city residents and tourists to walk its path and view its declaration: that light and beauty can be, or simply are, born out of darkness and pain.

JUSEC Monthly Report #3

2005-12-17T15:34:00.000+09:00

Period Covering: November 16 – December 15, 2005

Research & Professional:

It turns out that I was right in believing my research topic, while seemingly narrow, is timely. Without much effort on my part, wonderful opportunities have been falling into my lap at an increasing pace.

I have been to three conferences/meeting in the last month. The first one was titled (in rough translation): “The Arrival of Regenerative Therapies” and was held at Kobe’s International Conference Center, which not-coincidentally happens to be surrounded by several large regenerative medicine and tissue engineering research labs, as well as government sponsored foundations that work to bridge any new findings into marketable products. I will be given a tour of one of the largest labs on December 20th. This meeting not only provided me with a great deal of contacts, but also with the PowerPoint slides of the presentations, one of which included the fabulous (again roughly translated) declaration that regenerative therapies seek to “endlessly prolong life.” If you are thinking, “Wow,” then you might understand how I have felt this entire month.

The second meeting was of the legal medicine association in Japan, and was held in Kyoto. While I met one of two major lawyers involved in the brain death legislation and debate, the topic of the annual meeting was “legal contracts” between doctors and patients – not exactly my focus. The same annual meeting did revolve around brain death the pervious year, and I am going to get the transcripts.

This last weekend brought a meeting that could have been entitled, “Kenny Gundle’s Fulbright Research Topic” – though the actual name was “Cutting-edge Medical Research and its Ethics.” It appears to be part of an ongoing one-year series, and upon arrival I was handed a hundred-page plus book of all the slides and speeches from every previous meeting (and I will receive the same from this one in about a month). These are absolute jewels for my research, as were the five hours of talks that left my brain exhausted but exhilarated.

Yet at this last meeting I also saw that my path will be shifting slightly due to current events, for the erupting and unbelievable events surrounding South Korea’s stem cell research had just begun, and already it was mentioned frequently at the conference. Check Google News if you do not know what I am referring to – the course of the entire “research enterprise” may change as a result. While perhaps a dark day for the research community, it makes my year here all the more unique and potentially important.

Already this report is getting a little long, so I will just say that I have also written a great deal of my interview guides in Japanese and English and have now met most of the people I will be interviewing.

Personal & Cultural:

From the fall leaves at Kiyomizu Temple to Thanksgiving Dinner with other Fulbrighters and honored guests in Osaka, to another Fulbright Reception this past week in Osaka and a great dinner with a previous recipient and his wife, to a Kobe University sponsored trip to Awaji Island, to more than I could list here, it has been an enjoyable month. If I were not keeping an online journal and other writings, I would have already forgot some unforgettable experiences. Beyond such adventures, though, my quiet moments of cooking, writing, or playing Go in my apartment have also deepened by time here in a very positive way.

One paragraph should be given to my language studies. My three Japanese classes are all useful to a certain extent, but by far the best is a class where I am learning how to write research reports in Japanese. The teacher is absolutely hilarious and the content, including a wonderful textbook I highly recommend, gives me confidence that I can produce papers in Japanese on my findings. Part of that confidence comes from necessity, as for homework each week I actually write a part of a paper on my research. In addition to classes, I have discovered manga: avoided for so long, I have given up my resistance and have been warmly welcomed – and rewarded by quickly and enjoyably improving my knowledge of kanji.

While I am not going home this December, and am sad to be spending my first Christmas away from home, I believe I am being given an unparalleled opportunity for writing and reflection that I hope to take full advantage of over the next few weeks. There is so much more I could write, and that in itself is worth mentioning: I am eager to write as much as possible. And for the next month, that is what I plan to do.

Lights, Camera… wait for that cloud!

2005-12-05T23:07:00.000+09:00

While sitting outside the Kobe University cafeteria, hard at work on a translation and enjoying a fall day still enjoyable on the windy side of a window, a cute Japanese girl approached and asked me if I had ever been in a movie before. After commenting on the unnecessary pick-up line, I realized the seriousness of the remark: she proceeded to request that I be an extra for a movie currently in production on the island of Shikoku.

Um… let me think about it – yes!

Not only had I yet to venture to this part of Japan, but I have learned to jump at unique and possibly door-opening opportunities. The movie, I was told, is about German soldiers captured in China during World War I that are held in Japan. Apparently the Japanese commander in Tokushima (a city on Shikoku) treated the soldiers quite well, and the German soldiers repaid the kindness by signing Beethoven’s 9th Symphony before departing at the end of the war. This was first time the 9th Symphony was ever sung in Japan – a not insignificant event, as anyone in the country can tell you how ubiquitous and popular this symphony is here, especially around the holidays.

The movie’s title (in Japanese) is バルトの楽園. (The pronunciation is “Baruto no Gakuen”) This translates as Moustache’s Paradise, which requires a little explanation. “Baruto” is the Japanified pronunciation of the German word for moustache, which is what the German soldiers called the Japanese commander – see this picture to know why. While the kanji characters in the movie name mean “paradise” the pronunciation was changed a little to draw attention to the fact that the first character is the one for music. This is because, as I mentioned, music plays a big role in the movie.

Does this sound like an incredible movie? No. Did this stop me from wanting to be an extra in it? No. For those of you who know actors and whatnot, the main foreign star is Bruno Gantz, who won some fame and I believe a nomination for an Academy Award for his portrayal of Hitler in the movie “Downfall.” He is supposed to be quite the popular actor in Germany at this time. The main Japanese star (the one with the moustache) is Ken Matsudaira.

Anyway, a few weeks later found me waking up at 5am to catch the early train to Osaka, where a shuttle was waiting to take me and a bunch of other white men to the movie site. I should mention that I am well aware of my lack of Arian-features, but the same could be said about 80% of the extras… when I told the casting person this, she explained that to a Japanese person, we white boys all look alike.

Two hours later I was herded off the bus, given the uniform of a German private, and taken to the surprisingly well-built replica of the prison camp, complete with barbwire fencing. Here is a picture of me on the first day, sitting on a chair outside one of the storage buildings. The life of an extra quickly became clear – the greater part of my three days were spent waiting around, chatting with the rather unique band of extras that had been dragged in from all other the Kansai region.

When it came time for a shot it took at least thirty minutes for the crew to arrange us, and another thirty minutes for the two ‘rehearsals’ that are done mostly because film is very expensive here, and this is not a high-budget movie. Finally ready for the actual shot, we always had to wait for some cloud to pass or arrive, or some plane flying overhead to clear out, in order to make the lighting and sound just right. It took about two hours to complete a five-second cut, and by the time we broke for lunch I had come to realize why massive studios are built in Hollywood – dealing with real-world weather is terrible.

On the first day it began to rain after lunch, and this resulted in a few more hours of idle chatter before clearing out for the day – overall a hard days work, if I do say so myself.

Saturday was more of the same, and I think I managed to be in the camera’s purview for at least a short glimpse. I had been promoted overnight, and you can see in this picture my regular army uniform and the set behind me. However, I lost any appetite for edging myself up towards the camera after seeing a pack of about ten guys (out of the 150 there each day) show no shame in their attempts to be at the front of the line in each and every scene. I figured that if this is to be their 15 minutes of fame, then let them have it.

That being said, I did feel a little rush on the third day (which was not planned but rather forced by the rain on Friday) when fate threw me right into the middle of a scene too important to find its way to the cutting-room floor. I’m sure that myself and all the other extras will be first in line to see this movie when it comes out in June – it hopes to take advantage of an interest in Germany generated by it hosting the World Cup. While I am more than a little skeptical of this being a summer blockbuster, I was told that there will be a large amount of publicity on the film, and there were news crews on the set everyday. Here is a little poster for the movie… and I’ll be sure to let you know how the camera treats me when I go to the premiere!

Exhausted, but on the right "Path"

2005-11-27T22:31:00.000+09:00

It hurt to wake up before dawn on this supposed day of rest. I felt like the prototypical overworked Japanese salaryman as I put on my suit, packed up what I would need for the day and sulked off to the train station. Actually, though, once the webs were whisked from my eyes by the chill wind and a quick pastry, I regained my thrill at being invited to this conference.

Arriving and taking a seat just as the first speaker began to present on the question of autonomy for children under legal age to make medical decisions, and whether the state could overrule a parent’s decision, I looked around at the several hundred people present. While this time there were other college aged people attending, again I was the sole foreigner. At the lunch break I found my advisor, who introduced me to a major person in the ongoing debate over brain death in the country, and he graciously welcomed the chance to be interviewed by me.

When I finally left the conference and thought it was time to head back to Kobe, I suddenly realized that I was in Kyoto during the height of the fall colors. I decided it was not an opportunity to pass up, as much as my bed was calling me. From Heian Shrine up past the Stanford Japan Center to Nazenji Temple, and then along the greater part of my beloved Way of Philosophy, I joined the crowds taking in nature’s last vibrant song before the quiet calm of winter. I will share a few of the pictures: this first one illustrates what beckons the hordes of tourists – fall leaves that transform from scenery to center stage alongside temple buildings that now become the backdrop.

Once again the Way of Philosophy (or so I call it… see a previous post for an explanation) enchanted me, and I plan on visiting it at least once a season during the rest of my time in Japan. The next picture is of the slow-moving creek that follows the path’s course for a while, and there are benches where one can sit and reflect on, for example, the reflections of yellow, orange, and red off the water’s surface. It is that situation that the final picture shows – perhaps a telling shot of my time in Japan. With that I’ll end my account of what was nearly a full week of non-stop adventures, each of which was incredible alone, let alone in the company of such an breadth of experiences.

Lacrosse, Regenerative Medicine, and Lacrosse

2005-11-26T22:29:00.000+09:00

Wearing a suit to a lacrosse game is a little strange, but it was a total necessity this morning. Another early departure had begun to take its toll as I fitfully dozed on the trains between Kobe and southern Osaka, though I could hardly complain about the day in front of me. First I was witness to my Kobe University lacrosse team winning their interleague game, which won them a place in the top division for next session. It was a nail-biter of a game until the final seconds, and the team played with a fiery intensity they should be proud of – and by the looks on their faces in this picture, they are. I cannot wait to don my own jersey this spring!

The game began at 11am and ended at 1pm – which just happened to be the time when the conference I was planning on attending began. Yet I was in Osaka, far from the major stations leading to the man-made island where the event was being held. Port Island is a world center of tissue engineering and regenerative medicine specifically, and biomedical research more generally. It also hosts a variety of semi-governmental and other organizations that seek to put the results of the research into the marketplace. I finally arrived at 2:30pm, in time to check out a poster session before a round of talks on “business opportunities in regenerative therapies.” I won’t bore uninterested readers with the details, but the series of speakers were totally fascinating and this event was a total boon for my research – especially after the event, where the Fulbright parties I had attended had taught me well the skills of meishi exchange. I probably met about a third of the people I hope to interview in the span of a few hours. Just as a side note, I knew I was doing novel and interesting research when I realized I was the only non-Japanese person in attendance!

By the time I was too tired to continue making small talk, it was six o’clock and I was looking forward to a quick trip back to my apartment to change – but it was not to be. I got a call from one of the lacrosse players, who informed me that the team’s victory celebration would begin just one hour later… not enough time to make it home and back. So instead I showed up to the drinking party, held in a reserved room of an Izakaya restaurant (this style of establishment serves a variety of small dishes as well as drinks, and is quite popular for this sort of event). The boys were rowdy after their victory, and for a few hours I almost felt I was back with my guy friends at college. I must admit to being urged on to a few drinks myself, and I also gave a toast to this great team that has so graciously allowed me to play with them.

Exhausted and in no normal state, I wandered home as quickly as I could. Why? Oh yes, I forgot… my advisor called my cell phone as I was heading for the lacrosse game to tell me about the annual meeting of the Japanese society of medical law. He informed me it was the very next day, starting at 10am, in Kyoto. I, of course, accepted the invitation to attend.

Breath-taking Dashes & Views

2005-11-25T22:21:00.000+09:00

I would not have so quickly hopped out of bed on Friday morning at 6:15am, but I wanted to shut of the alarm before it woke up my guests. I quickly dressed and left for lacrosse practice, and I soon felt surprisingly refreshed and energized – perhaps simply the invigoration that results from good conversation (which I learned on Professor Harrison’s radio program, Entitled Opinions, was considered a great virtue by Epicurus). After practice I met up with Katrina and Luke for lunch at my favorite ramen place before returning to my apartment for a quick shower. The rest of the people in town for the weekend had decided to tour around Kyoto all day Friday, but I had my seminar to attend in the afternoon.

I was glad I decided to go, as not only did we talk about the terribly interesting (if terrible) concept of “wrongful birth” but I also found out about a conference on tissue engineering and regenerative medicine that was going to be held in Kobe… ON SATURDAY! For those readers who don’t know, my research here in Japan is intimately linked with these fields. I knew I absolutely had to attend, but the only problems were that: 1) the deadline to register had already passed; 2) my lacrosse team had their final game on Saturday at 11am in Osaka, which meant at best I would be an hour and a half late to the conference.

After the seminar I rushed to the train station to go to Kyoto myself. I was meeting the group at the famed Kiyomizu Temple for a night viewing of the fall leaves, which have exploded into reds, oranges and yellows that captivate anyone who sees them. While riding in packed cars, I managed to email from my cell phone about late registration, and even got a prompt reply! I neglected to mention I would miss the first session – I figured I would just make it there as fast as I could.

I was glad to meet the rest of the people at dinner, for I needed a minute to prepare and calm myself into order to properly enter the temple grounds. The first time I went to Kiyomizu Temple was with my brother Jeff, and somewhere there are a few great pictures of us standing at this temple, which is tucked into one of the mountains in eastern Kyoto. The beauty I saw this night defy description – a classic “you have to be there to believe it” sort of moment. Generally the night-viewing does not lend itself well to taking pictures, as this picture of me illustrates. It is almost with regret that I was able to take the single most amazing picture of my life (no flash as I held it still on a railing). Please take a closer look by clicking on the picture. It took just this one night to convince me that I must live somewhere with changing climate, for it binds a person to nature like nothing else. There must be a special meaning within these leaves, which are so beautiful right before they fall to the ground so that they may be buried in the earth and nourish the next generation.

Myself, along with my two guests, returned to Kobe on the last train of the night, after sharing a few beers with the rest of the group at “A Bar” - my favorite old Kyoto haunt (if you can see the log cabin style interior, it is easy to see why I like it). I could not resist taking Luke and Katrina to a high-class joint on the sixth floor of a building near my apartment for one of the better views of the city before cashing in for the night.

Turkey, Japan-style

2005-11-24T22:15:00.000+09:00

If I had known how physically taxing the next four days were to become, I might have elected to sleep in on Thanksgiving Day. Yet the morning lacrosse practices have gotten me into something of a routine and (I hate to say it) there is a catchy little tune played at the beginning of the seven o’clock morning news I never get to hear, so I woke once more to the rising sun and greeted the day with a hot cup of green tea.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, not just for the food and football but mostly because it brings together families across America to celebrate our connections with each other. I never missed a Thanksgiving while at Stanford, and unless I am mistaken I believe this was the very first Thanksgiving that I have not been with family.

However, through a little planning and a strong sense of community, I was surrounded with year not with family but with friends – the other Fulbright Fellows plus a few choice guests. Thanks to the Kobe Sheraton hotel’s “Thanksgiving Turkey Set” we had a 10 lbs bird that otherwise would have been impossible, as I doubt there is a standard American-sized oven in all but the largest houses in Japan. This hardly meant that no cooking was undertaken… though I myself left that task to the more accomplished chefs and instead, after greeting Luke and Katrina (who were to stay with me for the weekend) at the train station, picked up the cooked turkey-plus-choice-fixings and headed for Osaka. Instead, as this shot shows, I decided to partake in a little wine and a lot of idle chatting.

Kristin offered up her apartment for the meal, and decked the place out with candles, fine beverages and a low-lying long table that (to my great surprise) took fit all nine of us. There were seven Fellows plus Joe’s friend Alex and Luke’s wife Katrina. While the trip from Kobe to Osaka is a brief one, I must give thanks to those who made far longer journeys: David Powers came all the way from Nagasaki on the island of Kyushu; Luke Chamberlin and his wife Katrina live out west in Hiroshima; and Takara Swoopes came down from the northern, often earth-quaking city of Sendai. The host, Kristin White, as well as Kavitha Sivashanker from Kyoto, and finally Joe Smalls and Alex (who also live in Osaka), rounded out the attendees – I guess I was there too. I was very sorry that the other two Fellows, Yeon Wha and Roxanne, could not make it… I hope they both had good Thanksgivings as well!

Nine people in the apartment meant we all got nice and close, which made it all the easier to share the challenges and joys we’ve faced these past few months in Japan. I must say I felt a little guilty at how nice it was to speak in fast, native English with a large group of people. It seems that everyone is making the most of their time here, and it was fun to listen and learn to all the divergent interests and activities – from David learning Mah Jong, to Luke getting asked to write a paper on his Faulkner project for publication, to Takara getting know some of Japan’s professional basketball players, to Kristin volunteering at a prison, to oh-so-much more… an energetic group!

The meal was fantastic – check out the picture (though I look a little odd in it...). All the turkey, ginger fruit salad, stuffing, yams, mashed potatoes and gravy, pumpkin pie, salads and more certainly reminded me of the great gap between American and Japanese eating customs. While I still missed home – particularly my Mom’s stuffing and Aunt Debbie’s brown-sugar and mashed sweet potatoes – it was a truly fine display. Stuffed and sleepy from the turkey, I returned to Kobe with Luke and Katrina, and I introduced them to my friends at the bar for a quick drink before heading off to bed.

Thanksgiving-Eve

2005-11-23T22:49:00.000+09:00

A pleasant day of beautiful fall surprises awaited me as I headed up to the Kobe University Graduate School of Law on the day before Thanksgiving – one of the innumerable public holidays here, probably a harvest festival in its own right. The Law School took this opportunity to pack up all its foreign students for a day trip to Awaji Island, which lies between Kobe and the larger island of Shikoku – check out the little map.

We departed at 8:30 am and drove for about an hour, getting acquainted with our flight-attendant uniform wearing tour guide (who spoke the whole day in terribly formal Japanese) and giving self-introductions. Most of the other graduate students are Chinese and are here doing their Ph.D. research.

Our first stop was to travel over the Akashikaikyooohashi, or the Akashi Kaikyo Bridge – also known as the Pearl Bridge. Its central span is the longest in the world, and this suspension bridge brings immediately to mind the Golden Gate Bridge. After we crossed over, we stopped at a pull off to take some pictures. Here is one of me with the infinitely kind Kitano, who works in the Law School office and takes care of us foreign students.

Awaji Island turned out to be much larger than I had anticipated, and as we drove along the highway towards our next destination it was simply fabulous to be out in a farming area at this time of year. This island produces some of Japan’s finest best, rice, and especially yellow onions. It was warmer today than it had been for the past week, and the sky was clear, blue, and filled with a crisp air that brought out my rosy cheeks and refreshed my lungs with each breath.

Soon we arrived at a port, where we boarded a fo-clipper and where off to catch a glance of one of the country’s natural beauties: whirlpools that form between Awaji and Shikoku as a result of water flowing between a narrow channel at relatively high speeds with the tide changes. It was an appreciated change to sit back and witness the power of nature, observing and understanding it instead of seeking control. I could tell that the captain of this vessel, who spoke regularly over the intercom, knew this stretch of water extremely well, and like the other boats planned his trips to coincidence with the emergence of these swirling phenomena. It was so relaxing to be out on the water, having pleasant conversation with new friends and taking in the scenery. While I post the picture I took of the whirlpools, I’ll go ahead and supplement it with a picture I took of a poster that captures the whole scene quite well.

Back into port we drove to the top of a large hill, where we head a ‘shabu-shabu’ lunch – shabu-shabu being where you take pieces of meat or fish and dip them briefly into a pot of boiling water that sits on the table before dipping it into a sauce. Comparing this picture with the meals I have made clearly shows the distance I have yet to cover before considering myself anything of a chef.

Well fed and a little sleepy may not have been the best state in which to take on the next part of the day – a traditional puppet performance. While the Bunraku tradition is pretty well known, many of the puppet-based art forms in the country can trace their history back to Awaji Island, where the performances in the periods after harvest and before planting both marked the changing of the seasons and brought a little respite to those who toiled in the soil. These puppets are worked by three artists who dress in black: the novice controls the legs; after seven years of training one can move on to working the left hand; and it takes a lifetime to master the right hand and head, which are operated by the master who stands are raised sandals. The heads of the puppets are themselves works of art, intricately designed so that a series of small strings can normally be pulled to move the mouth and eyes, with special puppets designed to transform from beautiful woman-to-demon or man-to-beast and back again with a single pull of a string. While I dosed a little during the actual show, I did get a cool picture afterwards with one of the puppets and artists.

It had been quite a day, and already the sun was dipping in the west. Before boarding the bus I went outside and, from the vantage point of the hill, was able to take quite a marvelous picture of the bridge leading to Shikoku (yes, this is different from the one earlier). I got back on the bus and promptly fell asleep.

I only awoke about an hour later, when we had stopped off at a specially designed souvenir shop that overlooks the Pearl Bridge. Buying ‘omiyage’ gifts is one of the most important traditions in Japan; those who go on trips generally bring back small gifts of specialty goods for friends, family and coworkers. While it would be tempting to critique Japanese tourists in America for seeming to always be shopping, the reason is this: many of them are carrying lists of who they need to buy something for, and must find appropriately priced and novel items for a rather extensive group of people. It is really rude to return with nothing, and I bought some onion soups and some little onion cakes to give to some of my acquaintances here.

It was now dark, and the Pearl Bridge had lit up its 1737 illumination lights. After taking some group shots (I’ll try to remember to post one later, if I get it sent to me), we got on the bus once more and headed back to campus. I had not expected to have such a full and relaxing day, and it was a surprise that only further endears me to Kobe University, which has been only too kind to me and all the other foreign students. Here is one last picture of the bridge at night.

Seatbelts?

2005-11-20T23:44:00.000+09:00

On the rare occasions that I get into a car, I normally sit in the front seat and must simply avoid the embarrassment of accidentally trying to get into the driver’s side – which is the passenger side in the States (the right side). Those few moments when I have piled into a back seat, I without fail face a flurry of comments over my decision to put on the seatbelt. Wearing a seatbelt is only required for the front seat passengers in Japan, which basically means that no one wears one in the backseat. But being a slight bit concerned for my bodily preservation and seeing the three seconds required to put on a seatbelt as a small price to pay, I usually just explain that I am accustomed to wearing one.

This past Sunday the three cool guys who own and operate my bar threw a bowling tournament for all their friends and customers. I invited Kristin and the two of us had a good time basically getting destroyed by surprisingly good Japanese players. The lanes, which are far narrower and far more greased up than those in the States, did not allow bode well for my spinning technique. Also, lets just say I was not in the same state of mind as I had been every time I’d been bowling for the last four years at Palo Alto Bowl. The picture shows our collective greatest moment – Kristin creating a split I had never seen before, and then squeezing the next shot between two of the pines for an unlikely field goal. (Though I would be remiss if I didn’t say that Kristin soundly defeated me.)

After the event we piled back into cars to head for the bar. For the first time in years, I just decided not to put on the seatbelt and face the same questions yet again. It goes without saying that just a few moments later we got in a car accident.

The car I was riding in was changing lanes to the left, and the driver did not properly gauge the gusto of the motorcyclist who was coming up in that lane. The bike and back left bumper collided, giving all of us quite a jolt. After the car pulled over and I was satisfied that the biker was not too hurt, I went into ‘problem solving’ mode – a honed skill from a high school and college career that included at least a few scrapes with the authorities.

I knew that the driver had had a beer an hour and a half earlier, though he was without a doubt completely sober. However, Japan has a zero tolerance policy and rather stiff fines not only for the driver, but normally also for everyone riding in the car with the driver (not a bad idea, really). I found some gum and breath mints in my man-purse (so handy, I must admit) and gave them to the driver to stuff down before the cops and ambulance arrive – which he was very thankful for – and then welcomed the chance to hop in one of the other cars in our caravan and speed off.

The motorcyclist experienced no injuries and my driver was not subjected to the Breathalyzer, so other than the insurance hassle and some amount of lost cash, everything turned out okay.
Everyone made it to the bar for three hours of eating ‘nabe’ (a big hot bowl of sauce that you cook a bunch of stuff in) and drinking with good company – check out the picture. I have clearly learned my lesson, however, and will be glad to face any questions about my decision to spend the three seconds and throw on my seatbelt, wherever I am sitting.

Harii Pottaa!

2005-11-19T23:13:00.000+09:00

Yep, I did it. I hustled after lacrosse practice to head home and shower before making my way to Kyoto. My good friend had scored some tickets to an early showing of “Harry Potter: The Goblet of Fire” – the movie does not really come out here until the 26th of November. I could not miss the opportunity, for I readily admit that I enjoy both the books and the movies. While all the previous movies had satisfied me simply by trying to bring to life what I had read in the books, this go around I think the movie may have nearly matched the written word – something I have rarely if ever said about a movie. Just look how happy I was after seeing it!

JUSEC Monthly Report #2

2005-11-16T18:12:00.000+09:00

Well… another month has passed, and oh so quickly. It was time for my monthly report, which I have edited slightly and reprinted below. Hopefully it’ll be a nice little review of the last month!

Period Covering: September 16 – November 15, 2005
To: The Japan-United States Educational Commission
From: Kenneth Robert Gundle
Affiliation: Kobe University Faculty of Law
Arrived in Japan: September 13, 2005
Research Topic: The relationship between Japan’s brain death dilemma and the country’s interest in tissue engineering research.

Professional, Cultural, and Personal Developments:

While there were two distinct moments that stand out as important events, respectively, for my professional and personal development this month, the defining cultural activity for this period has been a nearly daily occurrence.

It was my great honor and privilege to be able to travel to Tokyo in order to welcome Mrs. Fulbright to the country. Shaking her hand and listening to her mimic her husband’s voice while quoting him made the Fulbright seem more human and less institutional. Though I knew that Senator Fulbright had spearheaded the development, making the physical connection altered how I see the grant in that moment. Also, just being at the event and exchanging meishi over pleasant conversation with the other grantees and the alumni made me feel that at least for a few hours I was serving the original intention of the grant – which is sometimes not how I feel when I am alone in a library.

For my research, by far the most productive day came when I met with a professor at the Osaka Prefecture University this last Saturday. This man has written a wealth of books on bioethics, the philosophy of life, and what he generally calls “Life studies.” I found him through my internet searches, and what he has translated into English is extremely interesting. However, in my mind the most interesting of his works is still only in Japanese – that title is “Painless Civilization.” He replied to me within hours of me sending an email and quickly offered to meet me. At the two-hour meeting he gave me copies of all his books (including one entirely on brain death), and I think I am going to translate the introduction of “Painless Civilization” (just 44 pages). It will be fabulous practice in writing academic pieces about philosophy/bioethics, and will teach me a great breadth of vocabulary I can put to use. In addition, this well connected professor has agreed to introduce me to all sorts of advocacy groups and other professors who will make up a great deal of my interviews. It was a great breakthrough, as otherwise my research is progressing far too slowly.

The biggest development of the past month, however, is that I have joined the lacrosse team. This entails three-hour practices for five days a week (ten months a year), and they begin every morning at 7:30am. Because I like to eat breakfast, this means I get up at about 6:20am everyday. Now that the days are growing shorter, I am seeing more and more of the Japanese sunrise. However difficult the transition, it has been incredibly rewarding to be on the team. Not only do I feel great physically, but I am accomplishing what I believe is an extremely difficult task: making Japanese guy friends. In my experience, groups of guys are very tight-knit. Being a part of the team puts me right in the middle of a group of guys that spend a great deal of the time together, and our shared-trials at practice in the wee hours provides the adversity that is all so important to “team building.”

Some random details:

Of course, I am also enjoying my Japanese language classes, and have had several adventures to Osaka, Kyoto, and around the Kobe area. My language tutor has proven extremely helpful, especially when it comes to correctly the emails I have been writing and making them more formal. I am cooking on my own more and more, and every Sunday at noon I watch the lesson on Go and then a tournament match. I am greatly looking forward to the gathering of many of the Fellows in the Kansai area for Thanksgiving.

A Replacement Nutcracker

2005-11-15T22:09:00.000+09:00

It was a night for a little culture: though the walk was long and I often thought I was completely lost, I braved the extreme cold that has come into the Kansai region to go to an innovative symphony performance. As readers of this little journal should hardly be surprised, the event involved taiko. Actually, as Joe (who, along with his Portland-raised friend Alex, invited me to the event) let me know, the guy we saw is just about the most famous solo taiko performer in the world.

The three-part performance, which was held at “The Symphony Hall” in Osaka, began with some Rimsky, which was impressive in its use of the spatial locations of the different instruments to make it sound as if a conversation flowed throughout the piece.

The piece that brought us there that night was HI-TEN-YU, which was played by the symphony along with the addition of Eitetsu Hayashi on various taiko drums. (You can see the slightly out-of-place drum in this picture I took before the show began.) Although Eitetsu is some 50-plus years old, I would card him if he tried to buy a beer. The name of the song roughly means “flying and playing in the heavens” but the feel was very dark, if not plain sinister. The convergence between the normally unmatched genres was successful in that together they accomplished something neither of them could do alone – it certainly did not just seem like a symphony “plus a drum” nor a taiko performance “plus some violins.”

However, the piece was so exhausting on the audience, who could not recover during the intermission for the final performance: Tchaikovsky’s “Winter Daydreams.” I was particularly excited about the Tchaikovsky since I will not be able to see “The Nutcracker” this year, but the two inspired performances that proceeded had winded me, and my thoughts ended up wandering for much of the piece. s an interesting side-note on culture, I found it fascinating that all the people with colds or coughs never interrupted the performance, but erupted in a stream of noise in the small spaces between each piece – it was quite hilarious. I am including a picture of Joe and I after the event – as you can see, I have busted out the trench coat in order to survive my first sustained cold weather in four years.

Dinner and a Show

2005-11-14T22:06:00.000+09:00

Monday night is reserved for the watching of Fox’s series “24”. The second season, which I have not seen, is being shown in Japanese on Monday nights at 8pm. I can understand most of the show, but on commercial breaks I read the episode guide online to make sure I don’t miss any details. So far I have resisted the strong temptation to go and rent the whole series and watch all the remaining episodes back-to-back, but I do not know how long I’ll last.

In large part due to the good influence of the show, Monday is also one night I am guaranteed to cook dinner. I cook while watching the seven o’clock news, and then eat while watching the show. It is all rather domestic, really… especially when I pack up the leftovers in a bento-box to take for lunch the next day. So here is a picture of my latest creation – pot stickers (gyoza in Japanese), brown rice, Kim chi, and chicken cooked with shitake mushrooms, garlic, and green onions. For dessert I have an orange and some hot tea. It was really quite good – and just as tasty the next day!

A Dual Day

2005-11-12T22:02:00.000+09:00

Despite several rain delays, Kobe University (in the orange jerseys) finally had a lacrosse game for me to go watch. I cannot join in the contests yet because I have not registered as an official player – which will not happen until March. Although I have thoroughly enjoyed practicing with the team, watching the game brought a deep and thrilling desire to be back on the field. It felt strange not to be watching lacrosse, which I have done before, but to watch my team play without me. In four years in high school I was really only on the sidelines when I committed a foul or was catching my breath for a minute. Witnessing the contest and knowing that I could be making a contribution but am barred from doing so was painful.

It would have been worse to watch the game to its conclusion (they lost by a goal), but I was sparred from this by a meeting I had arranged with a professor from Osaka Prefecture University. He is deeply interested in bioethics and we had a several hour conversation that ended with me getting copies of all his books and agreeing to translate the introduction to one of them. I believe he will be a great advisor to my research and will be able to put me in touch with many of the people I wish to interview.

This was a perfect example of what most of my days are: a mix of my research project with a whole variety of other activities that I hope will add to my time here.

Taiko for the People

2005-11-06T21:47:00.000+09:00

This Saturday I headed off to my second taiko performance – probably the second of many, both because I enjoy taiko and because the Fulbrighter researching it (Joe Smalls) keeps me up-to-date with all the cool concerts to go to. I had sort of figured that the first concert I went to (see previous post) was very typical of the genre, with the large hall full of quietly sitting people listening in rapt attention to the stone-faced performers wail away for hours without showing any emotion.

Clearly, I was wrong. This venue was actually outside a restaurant that held the festival to celebrate a major anniversary. When I showed up with a group of other Fulbrighters we were quickly handed cups of free sake from a freshly-tapped barrel (see the picture), and we had to slide into a little free area from which to see the stage. Instead of a quiet crowd, having the event on a still open little thoroughfare meant that people were walking by, talking to each other, and occasionally neglectfully their ringing cell phones. The style of taiko was far different, and the much smaller group effused their emotions into the performance, with smiles and wildly high jumps that somehow did not affect their perfect synchronization. This event also showed how taiko seems capable of integrating itself with other forms of art, as their was a geisha-donned performer in an intricate and beautiful kimono (see the picture) who captivated the audience with flowing dance and by simply gazing out with an ever-composed face. Beautiful, right? Quite the lady, right? I certainly thought so.

Actually, this performer is a man. Difficult to believe, but in a culture that has long praised the beauty of androgyny, much of the appeal of this person’s fame lies in the deception. Apparently in the Tokugawa period it was said that male geisha were superior to the female geisha, but somehow that does not speak to me.

As the title indicates, I saw this as being ‘taiko of the people.’ Here on the street, in all the hustle of Osaka and as a celebration for a local establishment, the very real and passionate taiko group was connected not with the concert-going intelligentsia but with passing-by shoppers, community leaders, and wide-eyed foreigners lucky enough to be a part of it.

Yasukuni Reconsidered

2005-11-06T21:44:00.000+09:00

After many trips to Tokyo, I finally made it to Yasukuni Shrine – probably the shrine best known outside of the country. The Prime Minister’s yearly visit to this shrine, which is for all those who died fighting for Japan in World War II (including convicted war criminals), is something of a international relations disaster for the Japan’s ties to China and South Korea, and the world media seems all to happy to cover it extensively. Yet in my short visit to the shrine, it quickly became my favorite in all of Japan. It is extremely subdued, in contrast to many other shrines, and it serves as a poignant remember of the cost of war and the price paid by those who were dedicated to its service – whether for good or ill. In marking this ground as holy and dedicating it to those who died, the shrine takes on an air similar to that felt at Gettysburg… perhaps an apt comparison, considering that any who visit that vast and hallowed stretch of land must see that the markers for Confederate soldiers and officers seem to far outshine the Union side both in quantity and grandeur.

Though I do not want to vindicate war criminals or dismiss all the reasons why Japan’s current administration may wish to abstain from paying their respects, I will try to recast the unfortunately politicized shrine as an important remembrance.

What does it mean to ritually wash one’s hands, cross under the gates of Yasukuni Shrine and solemnly walk up to the main hall and bow twice, slowly clap hands twice and bow once more? To do so is to remember the dead, in this case all the soldiers, kamikaze pilots and, yes, the convicted war criminals. I would argue that this is far better than the alternative – which would be to risk forgetting the blood sacrifice made. And if Yasukuni were to rid itself of the war criminals, that would be tantamount to whitewashing their existence and role in the events that transpired some sixty years ago. This would be the greatest mistake possible; to remove and disassociate and therefore forget their intimate role would be a mockery of history. To remember one’s ancestors, or even to pay respects to them, is far different than giving your blessing to their every action. In American history, this would be like forgetting that most of the Founding Fathers were slaveholders, or that we firebombed almost every major Japanese city before then annihilating two of them with nuclear weapons.

Instead of condemning Yasukuni Shrine, those in China, South Korea and within Japan who wish to bring attention to the atrocities of Japanese imperial aggression should praise the shrine and encourage everyone to visit it and remember. Instead of discouraging Koizumi for ever setting foot inside, envoys from other countries should accompany him there, and use it as an opportunity for both to bear witness and remembrance to history, in the hopes of avoiding such wrong-doings in the future. Instead of forgetting or removing certain traces of the past in the hope of removing them from our minds or public consciousness, let us continue their memory. Yasukuni Shrine, then, far from being a slight to the victims of Japanese aggression, should be an opportunity for discussion and cooperation in the maintenance of our responsibility to safeguard the future by protecting the past.

Adventures in Tokyo

2005-11-06T21:23:00.000+09:00

This past weekend I headed out for Tokyo along with Kavitha and Kristin, two of the other Fulbrighters (links to their journals are on the right). The purpose of the journey was to attend some events to commemorate the 100th Anniversary of Senator Fulbright’s birth, as well as do some sightseeing. The adventure began with our choice of transit – to save some money we took a Night Bus. These buses, which are frequently used by students and other money-strapped adventurers, can take you between basically all the major cities of Japan while you sleep – all for one third of the cost of the Shinkansen.

The idea is that you sleep on the bus, but despite my well-howned ability to sleep on command on even the shortest of train or bus rides during the day, I found it nearly impossible to get any rest while flying along the highway in my adequate but by no means luxurious seat. And eating dinner and enjoying the majesty of Kyoto station, the three of us got on the bus at about 10:30pm and arrived at Tokyo’s Shinjuku station at just after 6am. While this mode of transportation saves time and the added expense of one night’s lodging, I got of the bus feeling disoriented as to the current day and rather dirty from sleeping all night in my clothes in close quarters with sixty other people. However, the ticket we bought including a free two-hour pass to a large spa/bath establishment that exists inside of a capsule hotel. I spent the time cleaning the night off me and alternating mainly between the dry sauna and ice-cold bath. Though I was still plenty tired when I left, my skin and body left totally refreshed and ready to conquer the day – and considering it was only 9am, there was a’plenty of day to grasp hold of.

After dropping off my luggage at the hotel, I parted ways with the ladies (who were off to shop in Ginza) and took a short train ride north to Ueno – a part of Tokyo I had never been to before. Ueno is centered around a large park that bears its name and has several of the largest museums in the country. The Meiji government established the park after massacring a 2,000-man militia of Tokugawa loyalists on the grounds. The spirit of rebellion lingers in the shopping arcade that skirts up against the park; it is well known as the best place in Tokyo to buy black-market and knock-off goods, such as imitation purses for $40 rather than $4,000 (men in Japan should remember this, as I hear that girlfriends are simply not satisfied until they are carrying a purse that at least appears to be more valuable than a decent used car).

My destination was another two stops away, where I found streets and streets filled with tiny shops that cater to the needs of… other tiny shops. This business-to-business hub has everything your run-of-the-mill small restaurant could wish for, from uniforms and cooking equipment to what drew me to this area: Japanese fake-plastic food. Outside of nearly any restaurant in the country you can find not only a menu, but also a glass case that showcases very realistic plastic models of the meals available for purchase. (see right) My plan was to buy some plastic sushi for my Dad’s store back in the States, but I was overwhelmed by the high price of this unusual artwork. I thought it would be best to get a list of exactly what he wants and buy them at some other point during my year in the country.

Though a little disappointed in my purchasing power, I was pleased to add another piece of Tokyo to my repertoire. At least point the exhaustion of little-sleep at a 15-degree angle overcame me, and I retreated to the hotel for a quick nap before getting ready for the welcome reception.

Donning a suit and a rampant lion pin on my lapel, and along with two fine ladies dressed to the nine’s (see left), I packed as many of my freshly-minted bilingual business cards as I could into my 100-yen case and leap back into the hobnobbing scene that makes up any and all Fulbright events. This evening the reception centered on welcoming to Japan not only us Fulbright-grantees, but especially the still vibrant Mrs. Fulbright. She spoke poignantly about her late-husband’s life and commitment to building mutual understanding between countries as a means of conflict avoidance and international cooperation. Meeting her and shaking her hand was a great moment for me, as it was like being in the presence of the Senator who laid the groundwork for the incredible experience I am currently undertaking. It also sadly reminded me that I will never be able to thank the Senator in person, just as I can never meet or thank John Gardner – another of the people I respect and admire as a dedicated public servant and citizen. (Picture will be added soon!)

Allow what I hope will be an interesting aside into the Japanese way of life. As soon as I set foot in the country, my first priority was clear: get a cell phone. Far more so than in the United States, a cell phone is a lifeline here – making friends is simply impossible without one. Of course, you do not actually talk to anyone on cell phones – that it incredibly expensive. Instead you just text-message back and forth, with the great advantage of actually having an email address so that messages can be sent to and from any computer as well. Obtaining a cell phone was a rather easy task, as stores for all the major companies are more abundant than bars and Mexican restaurants around Palo Alto, and that does not even include the electronics stores where you can choose from any of the major companies. High demand is met with ready supply – capitalism scores again.

However, the second most important item for life in Japan was extremely difficult to produce, to my great surprise. In order to introduce oneself to any businessman, professor, or any other professional is it of upmost importance to carry a meishi – a business card. By reading and exchanging business cards in a highly ritualized fashion, two people can determine everything they need to know about each other. This is a required dance for many reasons, including that in Japanese you alter your verb conjugation and usage of certain phrases depending on the relative rank of who you are addressing (yes, this is difficult). Unlike an American business card, which stresses an individual’s name, a traditional Japanese meishi places the name of the company or university in the spotlight – just one example of the group-mentality that still defines this country.

Knowing the importance of meishi, I designed my front-and-back, English-and-Japanese card well before leaving the United States. Once I had my cell phone number I simply revised the card and was ready to go… or so I thought. Considering the central place meishi command here, I understandably assumed that buying some would take a matter of minutes – especially since I had already designed the card and only needed it printed. Yet every store I went to only made cards if you let them design it for you, which of course comes with an extra charge. Frustrated I went to Kinkos, that company which prides itself around the world for precision, availability and well-trained employees. I adore Kinkos, as must of you know, having spent significant time and money at locations in Portland, near Stanford, and in Washington DC. So when I found a location just two stops away from my apartment, I thought I had found the solution to all my meishi problems.

How wrong I was. Though the Kinkos had a computer, several copiers and printers, and five staff people, this time the giant of business totally failed me. The employees convinced me that they had business card-style paper, which I only found out was far too thin after printed off several sheets. Not that it would have mattered if they had the right paper, because they did not have a decent paper-cutter to produce the required sharp edges. More than a little upset, I went and found a real meishi and returned to the store to show them how wrong they were.

I only succeeded in making my cards when I went to a specialty paper store and bought perforated business card paper and then walked the Kinko’s staff through each step of printing front and back. (See a shot of the Japanese version on the right.)

Anyway, that long and uninteresting tangent was good therapy for me, and I can return to my Tokyo trip. I only brought it up because finally, at that reception, I was able to begin collecting and exchanging meishi with the very important people who abounded and were eager to meet me – I may have even been invited to give a talk at the American Embassy on my research.

After the reception I was ready to get back to my hotel room and sleep, but it was not meant to be. Instead I met up with a friend from Stanford who is working in Tokyo for a drink, and then got dragged to Roppongi by the other two Fulbright Fellows. Roppongi, as I have probably mentioned before here, is the hopping nightlife stop in Tokyo – at least if you are a foreigner. Sleep was quite elusive that night, but I could not allow myself to sleep in the next day and miss out on seeing more of Tokyo.

On Sunday, after some more sightseeing, I went to another Fulbright event: this one a lecture (in Japanese!) on the future of the Japanese and United States relationship, which was given by a former editor of a major Japanese newspaper. While the talk strayed off topic mostly to how the Japanese could benefit by picking up some American humor and should study abroad at an early age, I was pleasantly surprised to hear a talk about America that was so… positive. It reminded me that while critiquing and attempting to improve America and its relationship to the world, we still have a lot of redeeming qualities that are looked-up to and should remain cherished.

After the event I had some excellent Indian food and then gave in and went shopping with the girls in Harujuku and Ginza. As on all Sunday afternoons, and especially on Halloween weekend, the streets of Harujuku were crowded with young Japanese dressed in incredibly odd clothing. While some of it would be called ‘goth’ in the United States, it is hard to associate that term, and all its negative and almost ugly implications, with the utterly cute and well-groomed counter-culture that we saw. Ginza was the complete opposite – the land of classy and cutting-edge dress that has almost completely supplanted ‘that town in that country between Spain and Germany’ as the fashion center of the world. While I could not appreciate nor purchase most of what was for sale, I did pick up a $12 reversible fleece jacket at Uni-Qlo (picture on the right of me wearing it at Meiji Shrine... check out the changing leaf colors!). This is the only affordable clothing store in the country, which specializes in having every possible color of otherwise normal clothing. The jacket was immediately useful, as it was a cold night.

Is this post ever going to end? Well, if you have come this far, then you are almost done. Monday we checked-out of the hotel and deposited our bags near our bus departure point for later that night, and headed to see the sites o’ politics in Tokyo. Unlike myself, I can see both of the law school bound ladies with me going into politics, and they wanted to check out the Diet and ministry buildings. I parted ways with them in search of the ministry that relates to my research, only to go on a two-hour search to find its temporary headquarters while its official building is renovated. The mission was successful for my research, though, because the information packet focused directly on tissue engineering and regenerative medicine, and even brought up the need for more engagement with the bioethical problems that arise from these technologies.

Next I headed to the famed Yasukuni Shrine, but I want to write about that separately so I’ll skip it for now. After meeting up with my fellow travellers, we ate cheap ramen in a back-alley shop that had clearly never had foreign customers before and then caved in and went and sung karaoke for an hour before hopping on our bus for the journey back to Kansai. Luckily we were all exhausted and actually able to sleep – though I needed a day or two to fully recover from the eventful weekend… as the length of this entry clearly shows.

We are #1 Kobe!

2005-11-03T21:22:00.000+09:00

Though not entirely accurate, this is the rallying cry for the Kobe University lacrosse team, which I am thrilled to say that I have joined. Perhaps my greatest regret in college was not making the time to play on the lacrosse team, and being able to fulfill that goal during my time in Japan may become one enduring satisfaction with this year. I have been practicing with the team for about two weeks now, and this may have contributed to the sudden drop in my postings to this site.

The team is quite serious – they practice for ten months a year, five days a week (including Saturday and Sunday, with Monday and Thursday off), for three hours of drills and then an hour of physical training (i.e. sprints). And by the way, the practices start each morning at 7:30am.

The first practice left me absolutely exhausted and hurting throughout my entire body. After the second practice I could hardly walk, and was thrilled I had a day to recover before the next round of fast-paced drills. The constant muscle aches, especially in my legs, did not leave for a week. But for all this, I’ve never felt better. In just two weeks my body has largely adjusted and each day I can feel my strength and stamina increasing, after years of neglecting my body in the false idea that my mind and body are somehow separate.

The style of play here is different from that in the United States mostly in one way: there is almost a complete lack of body checks. Perhaps luckily this gives me something to contribute to the team, as knocking someone to the ground as always been one of my strong suits and favorite parts of the sport. I have Hatch and my other coaches to thank for instilling the quite proper concept that if anyone should shoot on goal, then it is absolutely necessary that they land on their ass. This, however, is a foreign idea here. The team has solid fundamentals, no doubt because they have been training together for about seven months now. I had to play a lot of catch-up, as while I could remember all the techniques of individual and team defense, it was no longer effortless to attempt them. Barely catching and passing with a stick over the last four years certainly left my stick-skills a little rusty.

Yet my willingness to bring a little violent intensity to the game made me a contributor from the first day, and the coaches encouraged me to teach and show the players how to use their bodies instead of their sticks. I did this in fine form earlier this week when I absolutely leveled another player when I double-teamed just as he was about to beat his defender. The coach had to remind the players that not only was it a legal play, but a good one.

Those who know me might be wondering whether the forty pounds I’ve dropped since senior year of high school have weakened the force I can bring to bear. Perhaps it has, but I think that delivering a body check is more about technique and a certain comfort level than with raw bulk. I have showed some of the other players where to hit people, and one of the freshman seems to have taken on the task of perfecting this subtle art – the whole team cheered yesterday when he took down an alumni (Old Boy, or OB, in Japanese) who had come to the practice.

My gloves have just arrived from the States (thanks family!) and I bought my own head after breaking the one I borrowed over someone’s wrists. I cannot express how happy I am to be on the team and making good guy friends. To give something back to the players, I am going to do a ‘Modern American Conversation’ lunch table every Tuesday, where I hope to teach them a variety of phrases and terms that (perhaps for the best) they would never learn in class.

A Google Map of my Apartment

2005-10-16T17:08:00.000+09:00

Let us go on a little journey together to perhaps introduce some of you to Japan and illustrate exactly where I live. Start by going to this site: Google Map of Kenny’s Apartment. You will have to switch back and forth between this page and the map, so it might be best to open it in a separate tab or window. Right now you are looking at a satellite image that shows the United States and Japan, as well as most of the rest of the world. Begin zooming in one step at a time, being careful not to move the image in any direction (already right now, my apartment is centered on the screen!).

Soon the names of Japanese cities and prefectures will begin popping up on the screen, and you'll see the major islands of Japan become clear, as well as the country's close quarters to South Korea and China. Some of the first cities you'll see and that most people know of are Tokyo（東京）, Osaka（大阪）, and Hiroshima（広島）. A few more steps in and centered on the screen you can see Kobe （神戸）- my home.

The next major change is the clear appearance of the Osaka/Kobe harbor area, and as the zoom continues Osaka will disappear from the right side of the screen. Take a second to look at how absolutely huge the metropolis is - the city expands seemingly endlessly to the east. You may be noticing some oddly shaped islands in the bay. The suspicions are well founded, as these are manmade islands - I believe I mentioned that one of them was made from land from Rokko Mountain, and an earlier post () has a picture looking at the island from that mountain - which should now be visible as the green mass north of Kobe.

Another click or two and the satellite image will start to get fuzzy, as the computer is just digitally zooming in. But it is easy to see Kobe's position in-between the bay and the mountains, and that the city is long from east to west but narrow from north to south.

When you reach the level where the satellite image no longer exists, switch from the Hybrid or Satellite mode to the Map mode in the upper-right hand corner of the screen.

The solid grey line cutting across the screen up from the south and then heading east-northeast is the Hankyu Railway　（阪急神戸線）, one of three lines that basically go across the length of the city. Along the grey line is a red square with the characters for Rokko （ろっこう） - the closest station to my apartment. South of that station is another railway, which is shown by alternating grey and white solid lines. This is the JR train line, and the station you can see is Rokko-Michi （ろっこうみち）. The walk between these two stations takes about six minutes.

Zoom in once more and the Hankyu Railway and Rokko station become clearer, as do two waterways shown by blue lines. These two waterways, which are man built and allow the runoff from the mountain to drain to the sea, come together right at the Hankyu line. It is right there, where the two come together, that the waterway has a sidewalk on either side that I go running along – see this post for some pictures. You can also just make out a red-tinted building with an "S" in a box - that is the Daie grocery store where I buy a lot of my food.

We are just about at the end of this little journey. Zoom one last time, and look just above where the waterways come together for a large park that is marked by the number 2. You can tell it is a park by the lack of buildings. Directly north of this park, which some of you may have heard about in my emails, is another park marked by the number 5. Directly in the middle of this picture, in the northwest corner of the park marked "5" - is a road that leads over the waterway.

Right on the west tip of the intersection between the waterway and the road is my apartment. I hope this was a fun little exploration for you all!

JUSEC Monthly Report

2005-10-16T17:05:00.000+09:00

Each month I submit a monthly report to the Japan-US Educational Commission. The purpose is to just give an idea of what kinds of professional, cultural and educational experiences I have had in the past four weeks. As it acts as a nice summary of my activities, I though I should go ahead and publish it here as well – it includes some things that I overlooked in my postings.

Period Covering: September 19 – October 15, 2005
To: The Japan-United States Educational Commission
Arrived in Japan: September 13, 2005 Grant Expires: September 2006
Research Topic: The relationship between Japan’s brain death dilemma and the country’s interest in tissue engineering research.
Writen October 14, 2005

Professional, Cultural, and Personal:

I will just intermix an overview of my professional, cultural, and personal goings-on – hopefully this will better convey a month where the distinction between the three was rather thin.

After about a weeklong homestay, I moved into my 1LDK apartment and gradually have borrowed or bought some simple furnishings. My prize possession is a kotatsu with a comfortable futon-cover that in addition to keeping me warm while I fiddle around on my computer this winter, this futon and throw-rug can easily double as a place for any or all of you to stay. By all means do come to Kobe, as it is a beautiful city nestled between the mountains and the sea. While some of the other Kansai fellows have come up twice to hear some of its famed jazz, once to go to a bar and once for the Kobe JazzStreet Festival, I have failed to deliver as a host because of the rather large cost involved – apparently the Kobe JazzStreet Festival does not actually have any Jazz on the street, other than a twenty minute mini-parade. I will work harder on my skills as a host of the city, mostly by finding out all the interesting sites, stores, etc. So far I have found some great vegetable stands that run in little shops without any sort of furnishings and appear to be run by the farmers themselves, as well as an excellent bar that while not as cheap as I would like, its owner and bartenders are great guys and they have already named a drink I taught them the “Gando - 願道.”

I have met with my advisor twice and today I had his seminar for the first time. The topic of the class is medical law and all we talked about today was brain death and organ transplantation, so I believe it will be useful for my research. Discrete progress on my research is lacking at the moment, though I was invited to a one-day conference in December that will feature the scientist who has made all the embryonic stem cell lines in Japan and one of the best transplant surgeons in the country. Unfortunately, even though my advisor is the head of the human subjects institutional review board, he told me that they are so busy that they cannot review my project, as in Japan it is very rare for a qualitative research project not involving patients to apply for approval. Somehow I’ll find a way around this problem, though right now my first task is to create my interview guides and informed consent sheets.

I have failed miserably to produce business cards, as Kinko’s lacks both the proper paper and paper cutter to do the job appropriately myself, and my Co-Op cannot simply take the design I have made and print the cards. I found a company online that can make them and ship them here but since they charge in English pounds, the conversion rate doubles the price to unreasonable levels. Although this is a little frustrating, I am confident I will be packing meishi by the time I hop on the night-bus to go to Tokyo for the welcome reception and talk by Mrs. Fulbright.

Today I also took a Japanese placement test and on Monday I will figure out what classes to take. Kobe University has a great international student center and last night we had an orientation and party for the 200 or so students who hail from about 30 different countries. I also had a separate orientation at the Law school, and the staff has been quite helpful and understanding.

I have yet to jump into the club or circle arena, mostly because I’ve been keeping busy just settling in. Actually, I am quite tempted to join the Kobe University lacrosse team, even though that would be a major time commitment. Though I say “busy,” I am quite thrilled with the freedom and time I have – it is such a contrast with my life at college. I have been running and working out every morning, writing letters and practicing on my mandolin every night, and I have started cooking for myself. To the extent possible, I have been writing a lot – both for my online journal as well as random thoughts and rants. I’ve also been sightseeing and meeting with old friends in Kyoto twice, I tagged along with Joe and others to a taiko concert, and tomorrow I am going to a professional soccer game with my host family. Life is good in Kobe, and I am happy.

MCAT Scores and Soccer

2005-10-16T16:24:00.000+09:00

On Friday morning, as I recovered from a party for all the international students of Kobe University, I found myself at the website of the American Association of Medical Colleges to discover my MCAT score. I got a 37T – a rather respectable mark, I believe. Actually, I was thrilled, and I celebrated the rest of the weekend.

On Saturday night I went to a professional soccer game with my host family – it was my first pro soccer match, and it was a lot of fun. The whole game had the effect of further exciting me about next year’s upcoming World Cup. The superstar of the Japanese team, Oguro, scored a goal late in the second half and effectively sealed the deal for his team. This picture shows the fans of Kobe and the real grass field of Kobe’s Wing Stadium, which hosted several of the last World Cup games. Though the sign is hard to see, I really want to get a shirt that reads, “Kobe Blood.”

After the game my host family graciously took me to a famous restaurant that even the Seattle baseball player Ichiro has been known to frequent. Although it was a hole in the wall, it served Kobe Beef: it was the first time I had eaten a steak of the fine meat, which I can relate is absolutely on an entirely different level of deliciousness from American beef. It was a perfect end to a weekend of celebration for my MCAT success.

Morning runs

2005-10-16T16:10:00.000+09:00

Almost every morning I get up and go on a short run. I head south from my apartment and run alongside a manmade waterway that allows rain and water runoff from the mountain to snake its way to the bay. This first picture faces south and shows my running path - though there are warning signs saying not to run in the rain because the water level can quickly rise. I really do not go all that far, but it wakes me up and certainly cannot be bad for my fitness level. Especially with the nice fall weather, it is good to get outside and get moving.

After the run I walk my way back up to my apartment, taking in the fabulous view of the mountains to the north. There are a lot of people walking their dogs, though I haven't seen a boxer yet. Here is a picture – isn’t this a great way to start everyday?

Another meal!

2005-10-16T15:55:00.000+09:00

Now this might not seem very exciting to most of you, but my mom told me how much she enjoyed seeing a meal that I made. So here is the second dinner I made, which was beef marinated in fresh garlic, green onions and soy sauce along with my steamed broccoli and brown rice. You can see my extensive kitchen, as well as the final result (by the way, you can always click on the images to see a larger version). Thanks to my increasing knowledge of little vegetable stands and grocery deals, this meal only cost about $5! That is pretty good, considering that it would have cost at least $25 in a restaurant (probably more).

Osaka Comic Market

2005-10-16T15:39:00.000+09:00

There are underground elements in any and all cultures that try to remain hidden to the outside world. The few times I’ve been enabled to journey into such a realm, I’ve tried to do so with a sense of gratitude and respect.

This past Sunday (the 7th) I was taken to a comic market in Osaka – a land of Japanese Otaku. While an Otaku could simply be called a “nerd,” it is a much more amorphous word and movement that generally refers to someone who is obsessed with any particular hobby – especially manga (comics) or anime. What is rock solid, however, is the extent of the phenomenon, which was recently determined to be worth 4 billion yen (roughly $40 million) annually. (You may have to search for it, but the article comes from here.)

These comic markets are gatherings of individuals who draw comics based on characters from anime, movies, or famous comics. Otaku who like these comics come and often spend a lot of money to collect the manga based on their favorite characters. The largest comic markets are held in Tokyo each winter and summer.

Last summer I went to the comic market in Tokyo – and here is a picture from that event that shows another phenomenon known as Cosplay – dressing up as the same characters that often grace the pages of the manga. People who do cosplay almost always create these costumes themselves. Since Japan is Japan, though, people do not walk in public wearing such outfits; instead they come to comic markets or cosplay events in normal clothes and then change into their outfits to hang out and take pictures. Its like having Halloween for dozens of days every year – if that is what you are into.

The event I went to is much smaller, but it still took place at a large convention center and had hundreds of comic sellers and probably over a thousand buyers – here is a picture of people lining up before the event. The comics are quite different from Superman and Spiderman, and this show focused on comics popular with men (the event for comics popular for girls was held on the following Sunday and was four times as large).

I was quite thankful to be able to attend something that few foreigners ever get a chance to.

Sunday Catch-up

2005-10-16T11:36:00.000+09:00

It has been an eventful week so disparate in its experiences that the only factor holding them together was my bodily presence. I’ll admit to not keeping up with posting "as-events-unfold," but today is Sunday – a day of restful writing to those who care to read.

Not having a particular place for this picture, I’ll throw it in here; it is a shot of me in the Chinatown adjacent to Sannomiya, the center of Kobe excitement.

Plastic Wrapped Life

2005-10-09T21:55:00.000+09:00

Though I consider myself an environmentalist, there are certainly many within and outside this designation that disagree. Perhaps we can all allow a title of “Teddy Roosevelt Environmentalist” – meaning mostly that I believe in maintaining the earth and our connection with it precisely so that it may be enjoyed in perpetuity by the generations yet to come.

So anyway – I check out my garbage. It was a habit I picked up while living a few weeks last summer with a professor who basically managed to produce zero trash, not by denying himself the items of modern markets but through a couple of proactive steps. Since I live alone, eat all the food I make, recycle all the cans and bottles I might buy, and generally don’t own much – meaning I certainly lack any leftover items to throw away – one might surmise that my garbage can would be barren.

Hardly. Within a week I had filled a rather medium-sized bag with… oddly enough… nothing but other plastic bags. Japan is inundated with plastic bags that are bestowed upon hapless customers at every possible moment. When you buy a drink at a convenience store, or even just a pack of gum, your purchase is thrown into a plastic bag before you know what as happened. If post cards are your desire, prepare for them to be placed inside a small bag that is subsequently taped shut and thrown into a slightly larger bag. And let’s not forget the grocery store, where the three tomatoes I bought were sitting on the shelf in a saran-wrapped container made of styrofoam and the nice lady at the cash registered hurled so many bags at me that each and every item was the proud owner of its very own bag.

The wrapping of items is an important part of Japanese culture, and this history has contributed to the country’s beautiful origami papers and the art of intricately folding them. No matter what the gift is (gift-giving is very important here) it must be wrapped, or at least put into a bag. If the gift is cash, then it is given to the recipient in a special envelope reminiscent of a Donnie Brasco-style Christmas gift. I wouldn’t be surprised if the wrapping of several gifts I’ve received might have actually been more expensive then the present itself.

Though I’m not trying to be a cultural-apologist here, I will admit that the phenomenon is not as simple as a total disregard for wasting our precious “plastic trees.” In fact, as those who support the Kyoto Protocol on greenhouse gases are quick to point out, the Japanese are very active in environmental protection… at least when it doesn’t stop them from wrapping every book they buy with special book covers, sending postcards (with little or no message) out to every single person they know twice a year, or giving out plastic-wrapped wooden chopsticks along with every bento-box sold (this particularly wasteful practice results in over 24 billion chopsticks thrown away every year – see this site for more on this issue.

Maybe the US is just as plentiful in its assortment and distribution of plastic bags, and it is just because I produce other types of trash when in American that I don’t notice the scale of this waste. Because, let’s not forgot, plastic bags can be used over and over again without any ill effect. In fact, this would seem to me to be their primary advantage over paper bags.

So I decided to do something simple: start carrying around my own plastic bags. As a future article will be sure to discuss, even men in Japan are forced to carry some sort of man-purse in order to get by – so throwing in a few plastic bags was no hassle at all. And while I have to be quick to tell the employees that I don’t need any bag, my campaign has been well received, and usually I am thanked for being so thoughtful.

Granted, this is hardly an original idea. I’m sure that this concept was drilled into my head during my brain-numbing seventh-grade year on “sustainability.” And in Japan, there has recently been a movement to force customers to pay for the bags that they use (here is an article on this idea.

An Apartment Christened

2005-10-06T22:12:00.000+09:00

What turns a room or an apartment into a place a home? A list could be made, and I suspect that eating a home-cooked meal would be on there. Of course… to eat a meal one needs more than my apartment was previously equipped with – a refrigerator, a table, cooking utensils, and food. Thanks to the generosity of my temporary host family, I now have all these necessities – here is a picture of the newly furnished living room.

It was time to make this apartment my home. Unfortunately, I am the least accomplished cook in my family, so I kept it simple: baked tofu, a green salad, steamed broccoli, unsalted peanuts I found on sale, and of course some brown rice. It all looked and tasted beautiful to me though – and including the winter brew it all cost under 500 yen (about $5). Not bad.

My plan is to always cook my own breakfast, and to gradually learn and cook dinners or pack lunches. Within a month I hope to only be eating out once a day – within two months a meal out will be a weekend treat… perhaps. Those cheap ramen shops and bento boxes are awfully tempting...

Proper Philosophy in Kyoto

2005-10-04T17:00:00.000+09:00

I will try, just for the sake of switching things up a bit, to keep this short. On Saturday I ventured to Kyoto to meet up with an extremely good friend of mine to see a few sites: notably Kinkakuji (the Golden Pavilion), Ginkakuji, and the Philosopher's Path.

The first stop, pictured here to the right, should be a familiar site to many of you: Kinkakuji is an extremely famous and beautiful temple whose main building draws well-deserved reverence from its many visitors. Though less well-known, the meandering path that has been maintained to allow for contemplation and a variety of views of the main attraction brought an additional depth to the experience. In this picture the golden building is situated within infinite shades of green - though even in early October a hint of fall is visible.

Our next stop, though something of a long bus ride away, was the Philosopher's Path that leads to Ginkakuji. And while Ginkakuji had an exceptional dry-landscape garden along with moss-covered glades, it ongoing construction and restoration projects stole away some of the possibility for quiet reflection. Perhaps the most surprising part of visiting the temples was when I discovered that it was the first time my friend, a native Kyoto resident, had ever been to this national treasure.

Though I hope to keep to my word and hold my tongue, please excuse a little ramble on the Philosopher's Path - the clear highlight of the day. It is merely a stone-lined road that leads up through a small residential and souvenir-shop/ small restaurant street on its way first to Ginkakuji, where it turns east and meanders along a small canal of slowly moving water under the shade of cherry trees. By no means a slight jaunt, this walk with take you all the way to Nanzenji and, yes, the Stanford Japan Center - not a short distance.

But what fascinated me about this ancient edifice was its name - for in Japanese the character for road or path is also used to mean, "The Way of ***". It is used, for example, in "The Way of the Samurai," "The Way of the Tea Ceremony," "The Way of the Sword" (Kendo), and "The Way of the Gods" (Shinto). So while these Japanese characters are often translated, and not improperly, as "The Philosopher's Path," an equally accurate and perhaps more telling translation would be, "The Way of Philosophy." Actually, the character for person does not exist in the Japanese name, so it is interested that "philosophy" somehow became "philosophers" - regardless, this fact lends some credence to my alternative translation.

And this is not a small point - it changes the whole meaning of the path. No longer is this simply a street's name, but rather it becomes a piece of warning, advice, and caution about the proper practice of philosophy. Certainly it is an admonishment of those who create "arm-chair theories" in the Ivory Tower of academia. This road, instead, is a call for philosophers to go to the streets, to the people, and to the changing environment of the seasons seen so spectacularly in April's explosion of cherry blossoms. In other words, this ancient path predates the dictate of phenomenology that declares, "To the things themselves!"

I will stop myself before I get carried away on this point. Just one more thought - the importance of walking among nature and the streets to finding answers to life's questions is not simply a passing idea here in Kyoto... I would be remiss not to mention that it is not far from this path, at Mt. Hiei, where a person can complete a seven year course as a Marathon Monk to become a Living Buddha - a living god. Before you sign up though, this is no small task - check out http://www.millennium-tv.com/Monks.htm.

Magic at Koshien

2005-10-01T16:12:00.000+09:00

Best of intentions, if left to their own devices, may result in serious injury to one’s wallet… if nothing else. Such was the clear and frankly foreseeable result when Kristin (see her blog, which I took some pictures from) and I headed down to the Hanshin’s Tigers game this past Thursday. The scene in front of Koshien Stadium brought back memories of the spring of 2004 when I had the privilege of witnessing a Hanshin game along with the rest of the Stanford exchange students and staff – a gift not to be forgotten, since tickets to these games are a much-sought commodity.

This time, however, I showed up to the stadium with neither tickets in hand nor hope of securing any; Kristin and I simply wanted to find a fan-packed sports bar to watch the festivities in. It was not until Kristin had bought a pink Tigers shirt that is all the rage, and I had donned my singularly loud Hanshin “hapi” (a knee-length, light-weight garment of sorts), did the urge to infiltrate the stadium rear itself out of my subconscious.

As a curiosity, really, I asked one of the hundred-plus Hanshin-gear hawking vendors whether scalpers prowled these fan-soaked waters. With something of a disapproving face I was told that yes, indeed, scalping was an industry not foreign to this land. My heart suddenly pounding, I began to make slow, circuitous circuits in front of the train station that was providing a steady stream of faithful followers making their pilgrimage to Koshien. The deer-in-the-headlights look on my face had the desired pheromonic effect on the lurking scalpers, and it did not take long for an old and seedy man to approach his prey. Though at this point I still rationalized I was simply interested in the going rates of scalped seats, when two tickets were produced I realized that they must be mine. I will not disclose the exact price out of shame mixed with the possible illegality of purchasing seats at above the prescribed price, but I will say that I bartered them down by more than half the original asking price. I believe that the game’s imminent start may have encouraged the seller to take what he could get – as considering the importance of the game I do not think many a native believed that any seats would be available for purchase on this night. It is enough to admit that rice and seaweed may constitute a significant amount of my diet for the next few weeks.

But victory was in hand – Kristin and I had acquired tickets to the Hanshin Tigers – Tokyo Giants game. Written in the retrospect of having spent the following evening watching the Tigers clinch a playoff spot to the great joy of all the others in my nearby bar, I know that the game I witnessed was of no small importance. Had they not won (not to give away the box score), the Tigers would not have been able to clinch in front of their fanatical home-town fans.

Yes, the fans. Still a little dazed from my purchase, the scene upon entering the stadium caused a near vertigo of excitement – a throbbing sea of fandome, colored by the classic yellow and gold alongside a smattering of neon pink. These Hanshin fans are, quite frankly and without a doubt, the greatest found on our globe. Check out the video to the left – it was taken at the game I went to last spring. The stadium is a living sea that is pulled by the ebb and flow of the game’s tide yet also beautifully random in its permutations of yellow and black; here a fan is also a critical (if individually minute) participant in the spectacle.

Being a Hanshin fan requires not only dedication and a certain financial investment, but also a store of reserve stamina, a repertoire of twenty-odd songs, and pair of thunder sticks to bang together and twirl in various routines that are synchronized to the other tens of thousands in attendance (and even those, so I’ve seen, in the sports bars and homes across the area).

Let me comment a bit on the peculiarities of Japanese fan etiquette, as compared to the United States. First of all, while your team is on the field, fans remain almost entirely silent – only the occasional cheer punctuates an aura of seriousness and respect for the pitcher. You do not boo bad calls or hola at those opposing players that you, as a good fan and person, hate with all your fury.

When your team goes up to bat, however, you sing and cheer without a moment of rest up until that third out. As each player swings away you chant one of several choruses made just for him. How do you know what to sing? Do not fear – several stadium employees are up on stands similar to those used by (normal) college marching bands and use hand signals – that you have memorized – to choose the song and then mark time.

Here’s some other differences for those of you with economically inclined minds: you may bring food and drinks into the game, alcohol and food inside the stadium is priced comparatively to that found right outside, and it costs nothing more to have an employee bring the object of your desire right to your seat – if you can get his or her attention. Remember… tipping is not allowed in this country.

But back to the game.

The final score of 7-4 masks the clear message sent in the bottom of the first, when the Tigers refused to be denied on their way to six runs; the rest of the game was merely academic. This team wanted so bad to win at home for its ferocious fans – and they accomplished this mission the very next night. The next and final stop is the Japan Series – and I cannot wait to see the drama. My only hope is that I’ll be able to wake up early one morning to watch the Yankees lose in an evening game before grabbing a bite of lunch and heading off to watch the Hanshin Tigers win in an afternoon classic.

Here's a picture of me and Kristin at the game.

I was born...

2005-09-27T18:54:00.000+09:00

... Perhaps not a travellin' man, but at least a wanderin' one. While I prefer to describe myself as one who likes the circuitous route, or perhaps the underused "long-cut," a strong majority would suggest that I am directionally challenged. There are the obvious draw-backs of such a condition, but forever the optimist I see the silver lining of my, unfortunately or not, incurable (dis)-ability.

While it seems like the populace leaps ever forward in a drive for speed and efficiency in their travels, when time permits I seek to slow down the pace and take in my surroundings - not in small part because it is the only way I can find my way back to this or that local. This lead me to believe that flying from Portland to Washington DC was to forget about the shear mass of our great land, and in turn to roadtrip across that path with Adam Hewitt - our departing trip a marathon across the middle states and our return a meandering lope down to the FloriBama and across Interstate 10. It was a journey I wish all young Americans could undertake.

This same spirit of "slow travel," as one might call it, inspired my venture from Kyoto to Nagasaki via local trains (not the Shinkansen, oh no!) and sans-hotels. A two hour lightening flash of a trip became a three day ordeal in each direction, and each minute spent dawdling in decades-old trains or walking from a remote station two blocks to have a beer while pondering the Japan Sea was worth it. Who needs proper accommodations when there is a vending machine selling hot milk tea right outside the train station?

Today, once again, I got the itch for hypospeed travel. The impetous for this was three hours spent on medical school applications tests... the ones where they ask you to describe the experiences, knowledge, skills and whatever that will make you a good doctor - in two hundred words or less. This is hardly enough space to cram a list into, yet I had already done this in my "activities" section. Even more lacking is space for a thoughtful synthesis of one's reflections on why he or she chose the field... and to attempt such an undertaking is to insure an innocuous, over generalized blob of oft-used cliches such as "I enjoy meeting new people." How these essays help the admissions officers I cannot fathom, and by the end I needed to vent.

In other words, I just felt like walking.

My task was clear: walk from the Rokko area in which I live to Sannomiya - the most happenin' place in Kobe. It seemed easy enough, and this feat can be accomplished by a ten minute train ride that only stops once in between. The goal was simply to get to know the city I will be living in for a year and to enjoy a perfect fall day in Japan. Today there was a cool breeze brushing up against a lingering warmth that had just been tamed of its humid ferocity but had yet to be entirely subdued.

Even for the directionally-blind, Kobe is an easily navigable metropolis - the northern mountains and southern sea making it nearly impossible to lose one's bearing. All I had to do was head east, and that is what I did. There are no snapshots for today, as this was a day of the entirely ordinary: cramped apartments with clothes hanging in the wind, convenience stores on every corner and Pachinko parlors nearly as numerous, Mom and Pop stores without benefit of signs or decor, small construction projects with workers equally glad for the coming of fall's gentle weather, and everywhere people busy with the nothing's that fill our idle time. Granted, looking back these are the pictures that might most interest my readers, and I apologize... though I can hardly apologize for taking the liberty of a relaxing jaunt across the Japanese cityscape without the concern for populating a photo album.

An hour into my wanderlust it occurred to me that this was no skip n' hop affair, for I know Sannomiya. I've already been to Sannomiya a half a dozen times. Sannomiya is full of very large buildings and is, by and by, a very large place. Yet I was surrounded by markedly diminutive dwellings, car dealerships and mini-malls. Hardly a building was three stories tall, yet this height prevented any long view of the skyline. When the opportunity arose I climbed a pedestrian overpass and took in the panorama; indeed, I had hardly scratched the surface of this hole I found myself digging in search of a watering hole lying somewhere in the asthenosphere.

Yet, mostly because I can be a stubborn guy (from time to time), I scoffed at the numerous train and subway stops I crossed and ventured on into the depths of Kobe's urban badlands.

Somewhere around hour two, my right leg began to ache and I made a mental note to give the Nike's a break for the next day or so. However, since I did not really have anything to do, I was far from in a rush, nor was I disappointed or discouraged from these developments. The sudden sprinkle slowly slipping up the sidewalk and settling upon my face and shirt was refreshing rather than repulsive - reminiscent, in fact, it was to a native Oregonian.

Not that this story has a dramatic conclusion - though I did buy a nice chair of sorts for my room (I'll send a picture later), but it was about three hours from starting line to finish, and not only had I forgotten all about my essays but I was already poundering about the next one over a happy hour refreshment.

Far more importantly, however, I have gained a fuller, if not somewhat subdued, understanding of my fine and lovely Kobe.

Taiko Performance in Kobe

2005-09-26T11:16:00.000+09:00

Backtracking a little bit on the timeline, as I might have to do from time to time, I would be remiss not to relay my experience of a fabulous taiko concert held at the cultural hall of Kobe. Firstly, the building itself was an impressive example of the Japanese use of space. From the outside this hall appeared not only to be rather small but also ultra-modern in its glass walls, escalators and chrome-finishing. Entering on the second floor to reach my seat, I had to turn 180 degrees and ascend another escalator that moved outwards from the lobby. It was not until I actually entered the auditorium that I realized the escalator was placed directly below the orchestra level, running at an angle equal to the steepness of the seating arrangement. Despite its outer, 21st century physique, the all-important center was as traditional as those found in downtown San Francisco - and it was enormous, with three levels of rounded out seating along with side booths reminiscent of old European grandeur. All this took me by all the more surprise because most of the other Fulbrighters I had intended to come here with lack the life-enabling Japanese cell phone, which had made meeting up a comedy of errors in planning.

Secondly, what is taiko? Although this would have been a completely legitimate question only ten years ago, the explosion of popularity in this semi-traditional drumming and performance art in the United States and across the globe this past decade suggests that many a reader have heard these pounding rhythms before. A "taiko" is literally a "big drum." Taiko groups utilize a whole spectrum of drum sizes, numbers and physical arrangements in their performances, and also incorporate myriad forms of dance and style to complement the heart-altering beating.

This particular performance was by Kodo - one of the most famous taiko groups. See the picture to the right, and visit their website at http://www.kodo.or.jp/. They are known for an all-out method that leaves the audience instilled with a feeling that taiko is a physically taxing martial art. The group grows its own food and trains together in the countryside, it is said, in a manner similar to that portrayed by the holdout warriors in the "The Last Samurai." On an early tour in the United States, the entire group ran the Boston Marathon and, upon completing the 26 miles, played a concert with the drums that awaited them arcoss the finish line.

Taiko reaches me through its undeniable focus on the present - I would never listen to a CD of this type of music. Instead, it is all about the live show and the impact, which is quite tactile, on the listener's body and mind. It might be the height of over-interpretation to assign any meaning to this art form that does not place the highest value on actually "being there" for a performance.

I am definitely not the expert on this art, but rather only a fan. Luckily, though, one of the other Fulbrighters (Joe Small) does appear to be the world authority on the subject, and I can point any interested people in his direction if they are interested.

Wild Boar Pulled Pork?

2005-09-25T22:07:00.000+09:00

(Note: take this as seriously or jokingly as you wish.)

The other night another Fulbrighter and I had a little run in with a very large female wild boar and her little 'un. Though rather scary (the Momma was 200 lbs at least and a close resemblance to the ones in Princess Mononoke - see picture), the northern part of Kobe has a real problem with this population.

Although this one sighting was not enough to spark my mind into "Kenny Gundle, International Problem Solver" mode, a second sighting in as many days elicited further thought on the subject.

Naturally, I turned to Google for all the answers, and discovered a recent National Geographic article (thank you Gus!) on the same problem that is popping up in England - i.e., what should we do about the wild boar that are running willy-nilly about our streets, rummaging through our garbage and, as happened to a lady I met today, even grabbing shopping bags out of our hands? They are a native population, so eradication or predator introduction seems a little too much like all the failed attempts of early 20th-century ecology.

Yet wait... here we have, in the land not only of the rising sun but also of astronomical meat prices, a plentiful protein product that is packing parks and just waiting to be plucked, roasted and transformed into BBQ Pulled-Wild Boar Sandwiches. All I have to do is roll down to the local Daie and pick up some sauce, garlic salt, black pepper and sesame seed buns.
See an example to the left. Then I can pull a "Lord of the Flies," spill a little blood, skin the hide and throw the haunches on the grill for all to enjoy. If slaughtering animals in public parks is taboo in this country (wouldn't surprise me), then maybe I could find a garage and go cottage industry with my product. Just think of the low overhead!

Yes? No? Should we give it a trial run in the park near my apartment sometime? We could go with a Luau Theme!

For a list of recipes, see: http://www.britishwildboar.org.uk/Recipe.htm

A View of Kobe

2005-09-25T20:41:00.000+09:00

Today my host family's mother brought a bunch of furniture and household items by my apartment, and then took me to meet some family friends that live nearby. This family of dentists have a 34 year old son named Yoshi that is learning English, and he offered to drive me up to Rokko Mountain to get a view of the surrounding area. Rokko Mountain is located directly to the north of Kobe.

This first shot comes from a viewpoint halfway up the mountain. You can make out Kobe below, and then there is a stretch of the harbor before what appears to be an island. That is actually Rokko Island, which was man-made using ground from the very mountain whose name it bears and from which I took this picture.

This next picture was taken from the top of the mountain and is pointing East-South-East towards Osaka. I found it incredible that even from this height (about 1000m) there was city from as far as the eye could see. Though the picture shows that today's weather was nice, it hardly conveys my relief that humidity's iron grip on Japan has finally lifted with the arrival of fall. Actually, a typhoon that is currently pounding Tokyo is big enough that strong winds have been lashing me here in Kobe the past two days... though the cool breeze is hardly bothering me!

(Note on the pictures: these are of a lesser quality than the other shots on this blog because they were taken with my cell phone!)

I repaid Yoshi's kindness is showing me around by helping him with his English. Before he dropped me back off at my apartment, he gave me a ticket to a nearby Onsen (hot spring/bath) - I'm sure the owner will be surprised when a Gaijin shows up!

My Apartment!

2005-09-24T14:46:00.000+09:00

I have finally gotten moved in, which is a great feeling! Even though my place still lacks some appliances and furniture (which my host family is being kind enough to lend me), I am started to get settled. The apartment is a little walk from the closest station, but I actually enjoy that and it is a small price to pay to have a large enough place to have visitors come and stay.

This first picture is of the entrance way, or 玄関 (genkan). Like in all Japanese houses and a lot of traditional restaurants, people trade their shoes for slippers at this little area. It is a custom that takes a little getting used to (and more caution about the status of one's socks!) but it keeps the apartment a lot cleaner... Nice for someone who is not known for often wielding a vacuum.

This, of course, is my bedroom. Notice that the American touch has already been added... I was lucky that this apartment came with a bed and futon. And though tatami mat floors would have been cool, I would have been constantly worried about ruining them. These floors, as well as the new sink and bathroom renovation, was done after the Great Kobe Earthquake back in the mid-90's. The actual building is more than twenty years old, but it is made of concrete so it is pretty safe. The only real damage was to the door, which looks fine but still sticks just a little.

The next two shots were taken from the door between my bedroom and the living room. Here you can see the kitchen, and beyond that the door to the shower area. Yes, I have a tub and yes, I plan on regularly filling it with boiling hot water and just chilling out.

So this will, once it has some furniture or something, be the "family room." I'll send another picture once it is set up a little bit more. You get the idea though... this apartment is pretty big. And if any of your readers find yourself in Kobe between now and next September, this room would be yours.

For the last picture I snapped a shot out the window of the living room. I have a balcony for hanging clothes on (nope... no dryers in Japan), and you can see the mountains that line the north of Kobe. In the upper right of the picture there are some large buildings - that is Kobe University, where I will be doing my research!

Full Autumn Moon with the Host Family

2005-09-23T14:37:00.000+09:00

For my first five days here in Kobe I lived with a host family. One night they took me to a special event held every September when there is a full moon. This marks the beginning of fall, and there is a ceremony of dancing and singing at Buddhist Temples.

My host family knows the couple who run this particular temple and whose relative was the lead dancer. Going to a temple on a cool evening for such a traditional ceremony was a great experience.

This is a shot of the dancers after the event. The one in the middle came to dinner with us afterwards and said how heavy the outfit was. At dinner I had to focus on speaking and understanding pretty formal Japanese for about three hours, and I was exhausted by the time it was over.

Getting Settled and Some Pictures

2005-09-20T17:38:00.000+09:00

Well... let me first say that I plan on posting to this journal almost everyday, even though that has not happened so far. The lapse in my writing has only been due to sporadic internet access as a result of moving from Tokyo to Kobe.

Currently I am in a homestay in Kobe, but as soon as tomorrow I will be moving into an apartment. Tomorrow I am also meeting with my advisor, which I hope will bring a more clear understanding to exactly what I will be doing this year.

In the interim (until I get better internet access - I'm in an internet cafe right now) - here are some pictures. The first is with me and the Ambassador - though I don't think it is a great shot of me. The second is a hazy picture from a karaoke session with some other Fulbrighters our last night in Tokyo.

Looking over my shoulder

2005-09-14T06:02:00.000+09:00

Though I have hardly been in Japan for twelve hours, I am already missing my family and friends back home. It is not so much a homesickness that is settling in, but rather a realization of my location - thousands of miles from home.

One thing I am looking forward to, then, are the things I brought along that remind me of home. In particular, I cannot wait to wrap myself in the hand-stitched quilt that my Mom made for me (see below).

Though I may have to wait a few weeks for really use it - it is still really hot and humid here!

I am somewhere over the Pacific.

2005-09-13T22:10:00.000+09:00

Either Monday, 8:08 PM or Tuesday, 12:08 pm:

Beginnings are sometimes a good way to judge what is to follow. My first few hours into this trip, the lesson learned is to be prepared for anything.

On Sunday night I packed until 5 am, including a trip to Kinkos to print some copies of my research proposal and other documents I should have dealt with a month ago. My 6 am wake-up call and the rush to the airport left me winded, and ready to pass my bags off to the airplane staff. Though I thought I had done a masterful job of packing, the kind people at Portland International Airport informed me that my suitcase was 86 lbs, or 16 lbs over the maximum limit. My choices were to 1) jettison cargo, 2) pay about $300 for the Japan-lag of the trip for the heavy bag, or 3) try to move some weight from one absolutely crammed bag into an even more absolutely crammed garment bag. And considering when I got to the airport, I had about seven minutes to figure this all out.

I briefly considered pitching the nine gars of homemade blueberry jelly from our garden that my mom made, but that would have left me without any gifts to placate professors, host families and others. In the end I had to pay $50 for one additional bag just for the first leg of the trip (to San Francisco International Airport) and I pulled out the heavier items as another carry-on. I knew this was only a temporary solution, however, as the fee for an extra bag is much higher for international flights. So far, my adventure had proven stressful, and I quickly fell into a dream-filled slumber after take-off.

Luckily, when I arrived at SFO I found a seedy airport employee to find me a big box and ducked tape to throw my garment bag and heavy items into. I just don’t understand while a huge box only half filled is fine and free, yet two much smaller bags, if separate, cost a fortune. Though disaster was probably averted, I will not pass judgment until I see if the jam jars didn’t break all over my suits. Less lucky was that when I checked in, I was granted a middle seat deep in the belly of the plane.

I decided to see what I could do about my mediocre seat placement. Without getting into details, let me report the final result: I was upgraded to Executive Class.

Yes, right now I am sitting in Executive Class sitting aboard a 747-400. My seat fully reclines into a bed, I have a large collection of video games, movies and TV shows on my personal video monitor, and I recently finished eating a lobster and salmon dinner accompanied by a Bombay Gin & Tonic and a nice Napa Valley Chardonnay, which I washed down with a cognac and truffles, all while watching “The Godfather.” They even gave me a toothbrush and toothpaste after the meal.

I was concerned that the four-hour battery on my new laptop would limit my making of iTunes playlists and other such activities on my twelve-hour flight to Tokyo. However, I have a power outlet on my seat. I am living the high life, though I feel that the fall back down to the reality of coach seating will be awfully depressing.

In Japan yet?

2005-08-23T02:52:00.000+09:00

No, this isn't Japan. The day before the MCAT I decided to go to Portland's Japanese Garden and Rose Garden to chill out and clear my head a little.

This picture is from one of the dry-landscape gardens. I just wanted to check out how to upload pictures onto this site.

Testing...

2005-08-22T10:13:00.000+09:00

Hey All,

In the aftermath of the MCAT I'm starting to look ahead to my move to Japan. One thing I've got to figure out is how to keep in touch with all my friends and family, and I'm hoping this will help. I'll try to fix it up a little bit here and there, but I plan on mostly posting pictures and captions. Deeper thoughts are still the domain of journals or long conversations.