Practicality vs. Principle -- Cultures Collide

Shoes.  I don’t claim to be an expert on Japanese culture/customs (far from it, in fact), but I did think I knew what was up with shoes over here.  Nope. 

Some things I’ve noticed concerning shoes:  You never wear them inside a house.  Ever.  All Japanese homes/apartments have a special room/area when you first enter the building called a “genkan” where you take your shoes and step up into the house.  In fact, the genkan is actually considered a public space, meaning you haven’t actually entered the house until you have left your shoes behind.  This also means you don’t necessarily need to knock to enter the genkan, you only need to knock after you get inside (although I think this practice is becoming more and more old fashioned; modern houses are smaller and the genkan is incorporated into a corner of a regular room).  In the genkan there are sometimes shelves here for you to leave your shoes, and sometimes there will be slippers to wear once you step inside. 

But it isn’t just homes that have the no shoe rule.  Schools, gyms, community centers (sometimes), bath houses, and many restaurants require you to take off your shoes prior to entrance.  The only places that really let you keep your shoes on are stores.  At school I keep a pair of “indoor” shoes to put on as soon as I get there.  These shoes, as the name implies, are never used outside (except in a fire drill).  I also use these indoor shoes at community centers or places like that where I can’t use outdoor shoes but being in socks or barefoot is unacceptable.  And when I am at a gym I need to make sure I use gym shoes that I don’t use outdoors.  One more important piece of footwear is the bathroom slipper.  These usually can be found in the bathrooms of places where you would normally be in socks or slippers. 

I made a couple simple rules for understanding shoe etiquette.  Shoes get dirty outside, you don’t want to bring the dirt inside.  But indoor shoes are clean, so it’s ok to wear them any place you can’t wear outdoor shoes.  The only exception is on tatami (rice straw mats) or in a kendo dojo where you never wear shoes.  But this rule doesn’t really always hold up (as I learned last week).  My problem is that I based it on a principle of practicality.  The problem is tracking dirt from outside in on your shoes.  The solution is to not wear dirty shoes inside.  Indoor shoes aren’t dirty, so it is ok to wear them inside.  Very practical solution. 

Last week we hosted the city-wide junior high/elementary kendo tournament in the gym of our school.  We raised the basketball hoops and taped out sparring areas on the floor.  The kids there in the tournament were all barefoot, as they should be – kendo is done without shoes.  During one of the breaks I was walking around the gym floor in my indoor shoes and talking with some of the students.  On a normal school day during the lunch break I would often shoot some hoops with kids in the gym wearing my indoor shoes.  I was on my turf, I knew it was ok.  But then one of the judges walked up to me and urgently pointed to my shoes, and then pointed to the genkan.  I tried to explain that it was cool, these were indoor shoes, but he still pointed to the genkan.  So I took off my shoes and didn’t put them back on until I left the gym.  I mean, I usually wear my shoes in the gym, it’s not like I was going to make it any more dirty than usual.  Then I tried to join some kids for lunch.  They had spread a blue tarp in the hallway to sit on and enjoy their boxed lunches.  But when I tried to sit down on it with them they told me to take off my shoes.  Again, I tried to tell them that they were indoor shoes, they weren’t dirty, but that didn’t matter to them. 

My rule of practicality wasn’t holding up.  These were both situations where wearing my “clean” indoor shoes should have been ok.  Here’s my guess as to why I got the shoes thing wrong:  Japanese culture is not focused on practicality/efficiency but rather on principle/purpose.  In the first encounter, my problem was that the gym had been transformed into a kendo dojo.  Even though it still looked and smelled like the school gym, because they were using it for a kendo tournament it effectively was transformed into a kendo dojo.  This means no shoes.  The same thing went for lunch.  It didn’t matter that I was wearing indoor shoes, the blue tarp on the floor had the same sacredness as a tatami mat in a restaurant.  It might not have been efficient, but it did hold to the purpose of the situation. 

(Sorry for posting this late!  Have a BONUS PARAGRAPH!)

This week at school I found another example of this idea in action.  The summer humidity finally hit last week.  Our school isn’t air conditioned, but all the classrooms are equipped with two fans to try and beat the heat.  Earlier this week I was assisting in the special education classroom and the fans were all turned off.  Before class began the teacher apologized to me that it would be very hot in class, and she couldn’t turn on the fans because of two of the students were wearing their long-sleeve track jackets.  I don’t know why the kids were wearing the jackets (the heat was oppressive), but apparently school rule says that if anyone is wearing a jacket, the fans stay off.  It didn’t matter that the majority of the class was suffering, the fans stayed off.  It wasn’t even ok to ask the kids to take off their jackets for the sake of the others.  We just had to deal with it and adapt to the situation.  The purpose of the fans is to cool people off, but if students are wearing jackets they obviously don't need help keeping cool.  And the value of this purpose outweighs the practical notion that when it is 90 degrees and humid one should turn on every fan one might find.

I don't mean to rub it in, but...

There's a lot I'm missing out on back in America these days.  Weddings, summer break, being in an English-speaking country....  It's easy to get discouraged by all the things I can't do because of where I am.  But then I have to stop and remind myself that I live in Japan.  I actually live in Japan.  That's awesome.  Yes, I am missing America a bit, but there is a ton of stuff here that I wouldn't get to experience otherwise.  So, here's a list, mostly to remind myself how good I have it here, but maybe a little bit to make you jealous too.

• Sushi.  And food here in general.  It's cheap, authentic, and delicious.  And I'm hungry right now so I'm going to mention it first.  Sure, I'm dying for a decent burrito, slice of pizza, or piece of lasagna, but I do get to go out fairly often for sushi, ramen, katsudon, curry, okonomiyaki, yaki niku, .... You get the idea.
• Kendo.  I've written aobut this a bit recently, so I won't harp too much on it now.  I'll just say that it is something I hope to continue even after I return home, and I never would have started if I hadn't been here.
• Safety.  I've never once been worried about safety here.  You know those times when you can't remember whether or not you locked the front door or shut all the windows before going out?  It's ok, it's Japan; nothing to worry about.  Out late, in a new city after dark, walking down a poorly lit street?  It's all good.
• Japanese kids.  Sure, kids will be kids wherever you go, but the kids here are given more responsibilities and act with greater respect (as long as a Japanese adult is in the room) than kids I knew in the States.  
• Sakura.  Even though the cherry blossom season ended a while back, I still have the memories and photos.  I live out in the sticks, and it is gorgeous here.
• Perspective.  My family and education got me started in the right direction with the beginning of a global perspective, but there's nothing like being a foreigner for months on end to give you an appreciation for being "other" and all that entails.
• Trains.  I do miss driving from time to time, but public transportation is so convenient here.  And trains are fun too!

This is by no means an all-inclusive list of all the good things going on here.  There's lots of stuff like spending time with friends and playing games that I enjoy too. But the things mentioned here are things that I never would have gotten if I hadn't come over here.  Well, I think I hear the local ramen shop beckoning...

Test: Success

Well, I've been a little busy lately.  Last week's post was a bit late.  And this week I haven't had time to really put something big up, but here's a little picture of what I've been up too:

If you ever wanted to know how to write my name in Japanese, it's the right-hand column.

This morning I took a test to get the 1-kyuu qualification, and I passed!  This is a picture of the certificate. 

My Japanese co-teacher (and also kendo coach) picked me up at eight this morning to drive me to the local junior high school (not the one where I work) where they were holding the exam.  Kids were there testing for 4 through 1 kyuu.  The youngest (trying for 4-kyuu) were in 1st grade, I'd guess.  The oldest were in 8th grade.  Well, actually I was the oldest.  You might think it would be awkward to stand out like that, taking the same test as a bunch of middle schoolers, but after being a foreigner in Japan for almost a year now, I'm used to standing out. 

After arriving and warming up they gave us a little workshop on how to do well on the test, what sort of things the judges would be looking for, etc.  Second came the test itself.  They started with the little kids and worked their way up to the 1-kyuu test.  We sat in the back and watched.  The 1st graders were so cute in their armor.  When our turn came we went up in three groups to take the test, ten at a time.  I was in the last group, so (even though I already knew what to expect) I got to see what the test actually looked like.  It was pretty quick: first you do an exercise called kirikaishi and they check your form; then you have two one-minute sessions of sparring; finally you have to go through some forms called kihon kata (here's a link if you want to see what that looks like).  After that they handed out the certificates (I'm pretty sure everyone passed).  To finish up the morning we had a chance to practice with all the instructors that attended the exam. 

If you still aren't really sure of what kendo is, here is a video of one of my students at the regional junior high school tournament last week.  He is the one with the red tag on his back in the video.  The highlight of the video comes at about 0:45 when he strikes his opponent's wrist (kote).  He did well enough to advance to the all prefecture tournament next month in the individual tournament!  Also, our team rocks and the boys took first place in one of the most exciting sporting matches I've ever witnessed.

Rock, Paper, Scissors gets Serious

I just had a student approach me in the hall with a clenched fist.  As the distance between us shrank she started shaking it at me.  I meekly held up my hand with what might be interpreted as a peace sign, but it was to no avail.  A moment later her finger was an inch from my nose, and I was looking down at my feet in defeat.  Sigh.  Rock crushes scissors yet again.

Officially, sumo wrestling is the national sport of Japan.  It is certainly the sport with the most cultural background and significance, dating back some 1500 years.  It is widely televised and tournaments are very popular.  But it is pretty rare to meet a sumo wrestler.  And people don’t get together to have pick-up sumo matches.  Kids don’t go to sumo club after school (at least as far as I know).  I’m not really sure how one would even become a sumo wrestler in the first place.  Needless to say, while watching sumo is a very popular Japanese activity, participating in it is not.

Then you have baseball, the great American pastime.  Around the turn of the 20^th century the sport was introduced to Japan and took off.  Baseball is now the most popular professional sport in Japan, and the bi-annual high school tournaments rival the professional games in TV ratings.  Students in the baseball club at my school may joke around in the classroom, but at practice or a game they are very serious.  Baseball may be relatively new to Japan (especially when you are thinking about the history of sumo), but it has been thoroughly adopted by the culture here. 

But there is another game that has a history almost as deep as sumo and is played more often than baseball.  They call it “janken.”  You probably know it as “rock, paper, scissors.”  Interestingly enough, about the same time as Americans introduced baseball to Japan, the Japanese were introducing rock, paper, scissors to the rest of the world.  The game actually originated in China, but made its way to Japan in the 1700s.  In America the game is played mainly to make arbitrary decisions from time to time, or maybe out of boredom.  But the game is much more significant in Japan. 

Let me pause a moment here and explain how to play janken in Japan.  You start by saying “saisho wa gu, janken pon,” throwing rock, paper, or scissors on the “p” of pon.  This is best translated as, “first comes rock, janken POP!” If it is a tie you try again, saying “aiko desho,” (throwing on “sho”) meaning “it’s a tie, eh?”  If you have another tie, you play again saying “sho sho sho,” (throwing on the third sho) and you keep on saying “sho sho sho” for subsequent ties until a winner is decided.  But the game doesn’t have to stop there.  There is one variant that I like where after winning, the winner points right in the loser’s face and says “acchi muite hoi” (“hey, look over there!").  When he says “hoi” he points the finger up, down, left, or right; simultaneously the loser turns his head up, down, left, or right.  If the loser turns his head in the same direction the winner is pointing, he loses for real and the game is over.  But if he looks in a different direction he is safe and the game starts over.  It’s common to see kids standing on a log or a set of stairs playing this variant of the game.  When you lose a round you take a step backwards on the log or staircase until some gets to the end and falls off. 

So when do they play janken over here?  Here are some places I’ve seen it used to solve problems:  Who gets the extra food at lunch?  Two kids correctly answered a bonus question in class, but there is only one sticker for the winner, who gets it?  Need to spice up dialogue practice?  Have students play janken to determine roles.  Need a game to occupy a group of 6^th graders for at least a half an hour?  Recently in the news a Japanese millionaire wanted to auction off his considerable art collection and couldn’t decide between two auction houses.  He had the houses play janken to make the decision.  The winning house made millions from the auction. 

As far as I know the game is not televised in Japan (not the case in America, yikes!), but it is certainly more played than sumo or baseball.  And as weird as it is to say it, janken has a sort of respectability surrounding it here.  Before coming to Japan I only thought of it as a sort of random decision generator, but here it is a game and kids play it to have fun – it’s as popular as tag or dodgeball.  I really don’t know why the game has so much cultural standing here.  But learning the answers to the “What?” questions are much more helpful than struggling to answer the “Why?” questions.  To those questions, as my buddy Dan taught me, we usually need to satisfy ourselves with a simple, “Because… Japan.”

Why are you yelling?

June has officially begun, and I am constantly seeing updates from my teacher friends back in the states on how the school year is over and everyone is ready for summer.  If only I were so lucky.  The school year in Japan runs a little differently.  Classes start in April and go till March the next year.  We do get a summer break, but it’s only about three weeks in August.  But I’m not here to complain. 

When school started in April this year all the new seventh graders had to choose clubs.  It’s a big deal, because when you choose a club you are also choosing how you will be spending your time afterschool and on weekends for the next three years of junior high.  So at the beginning of the year there is a lot of advertising done by the clubs, trying to get new kids to join.  We even have an assembly where all 18 clubs get to put on a five minute presentation to try and get the newbies to sign up (not the most thrilling afternoon for the teachers). 

At a kendo tournament.

During this time the clubs will invite seventh graders to watch practices to get an idea of what it looks like.  Some kids were heading out to practices one of these days, and one of my students invited me to join him at kendo practice.  (In case you aren’t familiar with the martial art, it is essentially Japanese fencing.  The pictures I'm putting in dont necessarily reflect what I'm writing about, but if you've never seen kendo before it will give you an idea what it looks like.)  I followed him to the kakugi-jo (kendo/judo practice building), joined the seventh graders sitting at the back of the room, and watched the upper-classmen start practice.  Eventually they handed bamboo swords (called shinai) to the seventh graders and got them started on some basic exercises.  I watched my new friends awkwardly swing their new tools, but after a few minutes a student came over to me and motioned that I should grab a shinai and join them.  To make a long story short, I eagerly took advantage of the offer and have been going to kendo practice ever since.  Later this month I will be taking a test to get a sort of pre-certification called i-kyuu (pronounced “ee-kyoo”).  If I am successful, I can take another test in September to get the first level of official certification, 1-dan. 

So that’s where I am right now with kendo, but how did I get there?  I could write a ton on all I’ve learned so far, but I want to try and explain why I got into it in the first place.

It comes down to the yelling.  You almost never hear a Japanese kid with a raised voice.  Kids here seem to be mellow most of the time.  Sure they get happy, but not really super-excited.   Yes, they get frustrated, but I’ve never seen a kid visibly mad (maybe they are angry or ecstatic on the inside, they are just good at controlling what they show you).  Japan is just a quieter place – no cars blasting stereos, no cop sirens at all hours of the day, and here in the country the sidewalks roll up around 6 (except for the kids going to their cram schools).  It is hard for me to see passion in the kids here for what they do, at least you don’t see it the way you might in the states.  For the most part, personal expression and individuality takes back seat to fitting into what the culture expects of you.  I’m used to kids being crazy, running around, screaming at the top of their lungs from time to time, getting mad from time to time, maybe even getting in a fight.  In the states, that’s part of what it means to be a kid.  Not here though.  Except at kendo.

Last year I watched the city-wide kendo tournament in the fall.  I had never seen kendo before, didn’t know what it was really.  I knew my dad did it when he was a kid growing up in Japan, so I wanted to see what it was all about.  So I watched the tournament all day, trying to figure out the rules (with only mild success).  The thing that really got my attention was all the screaming.  I didn’t know Japanese kids had it in them.  Let me try to explain what I saw:  kids wearing tricked out catcher’s uniforms, stomping their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs, trying to whack each other on the head with bamboo sticks.  I didn’t really understand the rules.  But I did know that I was seeing a very different side of my students.  I was really happy to see the screaming side of students, but I wanted to learn more.  Why were they screaming anyway?  What was it about kendo, a culturally traditional activity, that got kids acting in a way that seemed contrary to everything else I’ve observed in the culture here?  I wanted to find out.

Learning kendo has been on my mind ever since I went to the tournament last year, but I didn’t really know how I could get started.  I mean, I’m in Japan, what better place to learn kendo?  But my Japanese isn’t too good, my schedule can be unreliable, and other such excuses crowded out the idea of actually any sort of class.  When school ended in March, I made a sort of new year’s resolution to find out how to learn kendo in the next year.  So you can imagine how happy I was to accept the invitation to attend kendo practice after school.  Yay!  I did it!

So what’s up with the yelling anyways?  Well, I’m still very much a beginner at kendo and have a ton to learn, but here’s what I’ve noticed so far.  In kendo there is the idea that the sword, body, and spirit are all supposed to be acting together as one entity.  When you make an attack against an opponent, you are not just trying to attack with your sword, you are attacking with your body and your spirit too.  So when you attack, the moment your sword touches your opponent, your foot should be pounding the floor as though you were trying to put a hole in it and you should be screaming like a banshee.  Kendo is a wholistic martial art.  It isn’t just about trying to improve your skills with a wooden sword to level up or do well at tournaments; it is about becoming a stronger, unified person, being able to put your all into whatever you are doing and without holding anything back.  I love seeing kids learning how to do this, and now I get to learn with them.

Sakura

Cherry blossom (sakura) season ended a while ago, but it was one of the most spectacular things I’ve experienced in Japan so I figured I’d put up some pictures to give you an idea of what it is like.  The thing is, sakura trees are everywhere in Japan.  When the trees start to bloom, it’s like the whole countryside is exploding in blossoms.  They last for about two weeks, then they blow away to make way for the new green leaves.  

The river that runs through town is lined by cherry trees.  Here's the river before the blossoms:

And after:

You really can't get away from them.  Here are some pictures outside my school:

Some cherry trees are very famous and attract tons of tourists.  Here is a tree that isn't famous, but looks to me as beautiful as the tourist sites I visited:

This is the big one.  "Takizakura."  It is over 1000 years old.  It is one of the three most famous trees in all of Japan.  And I live only seven miles away.

And the tourists:

 
The symbolism of sakura in Japan is very interesting.  Yes, the sakura represent beauty, but they represent mortality -- something here one day and gone the next. During sakura season you have to be careful to appreciate each look out the window, because tomorrow the blossoms might all be gone.