EYEKU

A few weeks ago I told you all that I had “discovered” haiku after reading Matsuo Bashou’s masterpiece The Narrow Road to Oku. The book inspired me to try my own hand at the ancient poetic art form, though the results were often less than impressive and probably not worthy of being called haiku at all. And so to avoid the wrath of any purists who may happen to chance upon my blog, or any of my poems consisting of roughly 17 syllables, I’ve coined the term eyeku. Therefore, the rules no longer apply to my poems and me, much like the Geneva Conventions and international law don’t apply to Guantanomo Bay and its POW’s—sorry, enemy combatants.

Two days ago, on the spring equinox, I went with Tomoki to one of the biggest shrines in Fukuoka, Miyajidake shrine. It was a fine day; a strong and cool breeze tempered the warmth of the sun’s rays. The first of the cherry blossoms had begun to bloom, and bamboo poles displaying bright banners lined many of the paths that led to the shrine and the gardens and grounds surrounding it. The banners fluttered, and the poles swayed in the breeze, and somehow the two combined to produce a rather eerie sound, prompting Tomoki to comment playfully, “They’re crying.”

Miyajidake shrine was constructed in the 7th century. For me, visiting a place like this always helps to put things into perspective. Fourteen-hundred years of history: I imagine the labourers working together to put the stone steps in place; I wonder at how many people have come and gone over the centuries, at what kind of people they were—peasants, lords, travelling poets like Bashou, wandering swordsmen, regular folk, and the odd curious gaijin or two like me. I wonder at what kind of historical events have taken place there; and then I think of how it has only been about 220 years since Captain Cook and the First Fleet sailed into Botany Bay, to claim that vast expanse of Terra Nullius, which of course we now know as Australia. In the grand scheme of things, and in particular for the aborigines of Australia who have been there for tens of thousands of years, 220 years is nothing but a drop in the bucket. When I look at the state of the aboriginal people today, I can’t help but think what we are seeing is a people still deeply grieving the loss of their land, their way of life, and their independence.

The spring equinox -
At Miyajidake shrine
The bamboo poles cried

The Third Ever Midweek Meet Your Delight!

(Yes, eventually I will stop counting)

To all you smokers out there, JT (Japan Tobacco) says:

Indeed it is. JT would also like to say: Don't stop smoking! Our tobacco plants soak up CO2 in the atmosphere and are an integral part of the fight against global warming. By purchasing and smoking our products you are helping the environment. Your consequent health problems are, unfortunately, the necessary price to be paid for the future of the planet.

On the Road Again

I’m excited, people! At work yesterday, I got word that my request for a holiday in May has been approved. For two weeks, starting from 9 May, I’ll be travelling through Korea, China, and Mongolia. Did I mention that I’m excited?

My planned itinerary, as it stands at the moment, looks like this: From the port of Hakata I’ll catch the ferry across to Pusan, Korea. From there I’ll catch a train up to Seoul where I plan to check out, amongst other things, the 38th parallel. After a night and a day in Seoul, I’ll fly to Beijing. This city, which has such a long and fascinating history, and which is readying itself for the Olympics next year, has, obviously, a lot to offer in terms of sightseeing and cultural experiences. On my list of things to do are: a visit to Tian’an Men Square; see the Forbidden Palace; walk along the Great Wall; and, though it’s a little bit out of town, I’d like to see the Shaolin kung-fu monks perform at the Shoalin temple. I also want to travel along part of the Silk Road. Then, after a few days, I’ll catch a train up through the Gobi desert to Ulaan Bataar, the capital of Mongolia. I’ll spend a night or so in the city then head off into the wilderness in search of shamanic nomads and any significant historical sites in connection with Genghis Kahn. Finally, on 24 May, I’ll fly back to Japan. When I get back I expect I’ll have plenty of stories to share with you, and perhaps a haiku or two.

Can’t wait!

eyechan

The Second Ever Midweek Meet Your Delight!

Two posts in the one day. What on earth has gotten into me, you may be wondering? I'm not sure exactly, but it may be that I'm procrastinating. You see, there is another story I want to share with you, but I feel that I'm completely incapable of keeping it to a sensible length, and the laborious task of actually writing it out is not very enticing. Don't worry (I'm sure you're not) I will post it eventually, because it is one of those stories that I simply must tell. But in the meantime, Midweek Meet Your Delight, plus a few other little things I've got planned, will have to suffice. Anyway, without further adieu, I give you this week's Midweek Meet Your Delight!:



Mata ne! That is to say, catch you later!

eyechan

HAPPY WHITE DAY!!!

Eh? What’s white day, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you in just a moment; but first I must quickly explain about Valentine’s Day here in Japan. On Valentine’s Day females give chocolates and whatnot to their husbands and boyfriends. What’s more, they give them to their male coworkers, too. This is known as giri-choco, or obligation chocolate. The guys are not expected to return the favour. That is, not until White day a month later, on March 14. Japanese guys (if they remember) return the favour by giving gifts of chocolate, marshmallows, and cookies. As an (un)interesting aside, I’ve been told it was started by a local confectionary company here in Hakata in an effort to promote their marshmallows.

Yesterday one of my colleagues, a Canadian guy, getting in a day early, gave our female staff a box of marshmallows. Printed decoratively on the box was a very fine message rivalled perhaps only by those of JT’s ‘Meet Your Delight’ campaign. I loved it so much I copied it down. It reads as follows:

I’ve felt great since I woke up this morning.
I want to give that very special person a delicious treat.
Packet full of how I feel.
I know you’ll be so happy get it!
And show me such a delightful smile.

Amen. Fantastic stuff. And speaking of JT’s sombre yet excellent words of wisdom, I’ll be back later today with the second ever edition of Midweek Meet Your Delight! Till then yoi ichinichi o ne! (Rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? It means have a nice day.)

eyechan

The Inaugural Midweek Meet Your Delight!

Introducing JT (Japan Tobacco) and their ‘Meet Your Delight’ public awareness campaign. Now, being a tobacco company and all, the focus of this campaign is not so much on the health risks of smoking as it is on how individual smokers can improve their smoking manners. The centrepiece of this campaign is a series of posters—which, far as I know, appear mainly in trains—featuring very subtle, and, at times, poetic messages for smokers to take into consideration. What’s good about these posters is that they also feature an illustration, so that should the point of the written message go sailing over your head, as it often does with me—even though it’s written in English as well as Japanese—you can look to this illustration for clues. So, having had the privilege of meeting my delight on many a train ride, I’d like for you, now, to meet yours. Please enjoy instalment number one of Midweek Meet Your Delight!:

The helicopter helps to put everything into perspective.

Have a delightful day!

eyechan

Last Month

(The original title of this post was February in Review, but as usual I've been a bit slow, hence the new title)

…I took part in a feed-the-homeless project, resumed taking Japanese lessons, and discovered haiku.

The homeless project was organised by my work colleague and good friend, Faisal. He’s a Pakistani-born Briton; he’s a Muslim; he’s a vegetarian, and he doesn’t drink or smoke. Above all, he’s an extraordinary individual. It was while he was fasting last year during Ramadan that he decided he wanted to do something to help those people who, unlike him, were not guaranteed a meal after sunset: the homeless.

The homeless of Japan, much like their homed compatriots, are a unique bunch, and quite enigmatic, too. There have been many things said about them. For instance, not only are they homeless by choice, or as a result of some bad thing that they did, but, according to some, they are positively rich. I’ve even heard it said that they are entitled to a monthly payment from the government, though no one has been able to tell me how much it is, and I’m not sure how one would collect such a payment if one does not have a mailing address or bank account. Anyway, whether they are rich or not, there by choice or not, I don’t know; but I must admit I’ve never been asked for spare change or food, and I’ve never seen anyone else being asked (though this may just be a reflection of the pride in the Japanese character). Also, a lot of them seem to be a bit better dressed than the homeless of other countries—no one seems to be getting around in tatters, in fact many of them you would not suspect of being homeless until you saw them setting up their little cardboard box shelters. In summer, when they sit around in their little groups talking and laughing and drinking their little cups of sake and shou chu, it does look like they’re having a ball, and I can see why the average overworked Japanese citizen might resent them for this. Having said that, I can’t imagine anyone choosing to be homeless during the winter.

So on the fourth of last month, when Faisal and I and a few other gaijin walked the streets of Tenjin handing out bentos (boxed lunches) and boxes of cookies, we got, as you might expect, quite a few bemused looks. We were crazy gaijin—outsiders—who were helping the lazy work-avoiding homeless. I’d like to tell you more about this night as it was quite funny, but I know it’ll take me a long time to write it, and there are plenty of other stories I want to share with you.

Team Gaijin! Can you guess which one is me? (Sorry for the poor pic quality)

Last month I also resumed my formal study of Japanese and began taking classes again. I had taken lessons for the first ten months I was here, but when I took a couple of weeks off work to go back home to visit friends and family I had to work overtime both before leaving and when I returned, and so I wasn’t able to take lessons for about two months and never got back into it. What re-sparked my motivation to start taking lessons again were a few recent social outings where I felt I was being made fun of because my Japanese is so poor. I guess you could say I’ve been shamed into action.

Someone who is very competent with the Japanese language is a man by the name of Donald Keene. He translated one of the classic works of Japanese haiku: The Narrow Road to Oku by Matsuo Bashou. Written in 1689, it is a book, consisting of a narrative interspersed with haiku, in which Bashou writes about a long journey that he undertook. It’s great stuff, and I’d like to leave you with a little sample:

Sprigs of verbana
Thrust in my cap—such will be
My fancy attire.

Have a good one!
eyechan

Correction: the above haiku was not written by Bashou but by his travelling companion, Sora.