My Favorite Japan Blogs Part 1

My Google stats warm my heart. I'm glad people are still coming here. I don't live in Japan anymore but I'm still mad connected to Tokyo and the people I know there, and I'll still write here when the occasion calls for it. But if you dig this blog, let me suggest some current jams you'll probably like! There are a billion Japan blogs out there, but I've always mainly stuck to the circuit that revolves around pop culture, fashion, nightlife, sex, hangovers, and romantic street shots. (Incidentally, this is a pretty insular scene -- almost all of these bloggers became good friends of mine, or were already friends of friends.)

Vivian at Lost In Translation

This girl's been blogging from Japan for a long time and has commented here, but somehow I completely failed to read her until recently. That's a bummer because now she's living in Tokyo and her scene really looks like my scene. Carry that torch, Vivian! Let me add that if I'm perhaps a little prone to sulk in gutters or wake up drunk with a tobacco-soaked rat's nest in place of my hair and then stay in the same position for the next twelve hours, Vivian is pure fly. She hits hot parties, snaps good-looking people, and writes professionally. This post is a great example of what I dig about her style -- in one simple string of photos and captions she shouts out to "Shibuya at dusk," drinking "Slat," "seafoam green nail polish," "Chungking Express," and taking too many self-portraits. That's my jam, Vivian! 

Julie in Japan

Homegirl hardly needs my introduction. Julie, are you not the reigning queen of stylish girl bloggers in Japan? Haha. If you are one of the small handful that didn't come here straight from Julie's blog, go there now! She hasn't been updating as often lately (bitches got lives, people -- you want us to stay interesting, don't you?) but look through her back pages. Julie tends to write much more informative posts about Japanese culture as she sees it than I do, though she keeps you in touch with a steady supply of shots from her own life and friends. She's also really good at writing interesting posts about international pop culture topics related to Japan, so for such a straight-up Japan blog hers is surprisingly full of awesome film and music recommendations. 

Sarah at The Nomad's Land

Sarah is a South African living in Sapporo with her Japanese fiance, so there's a bunch of stuff you don't get to read about often. She's mad prolific, posting all the time about stuff we all love like convenience store snacks, purikura, arts & crafts, snow festivals -- damn, Sarah! How do you do it? I had the pleasure of meeting Sarah during my only visit to Sapporo, and she's just as fab in person. 

Selena at Expiring

I don't even know where to start with Selena. She is, straight up, one of the most interesting and genuine people I know. She's fly, fun, smart, socially conscious, and since the earthquake she's been working her ass off to find shelter, food, and care for the countless animals up north that were left without homes or families in the wake of the disaster. Sample writing: It's still cold as balls up in the radioactive north, but spring is starting to rear its head, for which I am hella grateful. This week, my mask-wearing mug is appearing in The Big Issue (Japan), a magazine sold by homeless vendors outside of major train stations. The article is about the work of Japan Cat Network in Fukushima, and features a big fat picture of yours truly feeding cats in the zone, as well as an inset on dear King, who we hear is frolicking happily among the hot springs of Beppu. WTF! Do you want to read more of that shit or what? Aw, the last time I saw Selena was back in April or something, when we wandered through darkened Shinjuku looking for parfaits. I miss you, boo! Keep your chin up! 

Reverse Culture Shock: Acute Symptoms

Hey, baby pies! Hey from New York! How are you ? Where are you? What have you been up to? I miss you! How have I been? Oof. Let's talk about reverse culture shock -- short-term now, long-term next. I've made the trip between Japan and the U.S. six times, I think, so I know all about the acute signs of being stuck in Tokyo-mode.

OMG everyone's so LOUD

This hits you first, even if you haven't been away for long. At the airport, families shout to each other across, like, an acre of space. "JEFF! HEY JEFF! I GOT -- I GOT YOUR -- WHAT? I GOT YOUR BAGS! I SAID I GOT YOUR BAGS! NO I GOT IT!" I still remember waiting for my bags at SFO after one long summer in the Hyogo countryside and feeling tears prick my eyes because all the noise close to my head was stressing me out and I couldn't understand why everyone thought it was okay to scream around me.

Plus, you can understand all the petty bitching and mundane prattle going on in conversations around you, which makes people seem a lot louder and more annoying than in Japan, where it's easy to tune people out if Japanese isn't your first language. This sometimes hit me when I was still at Narita, waiting for my flight with groups of American military members talking loudly about gossip on the base or their plants back home or whatever.

Well this is a docile bunch, but...

And then, whoa, all the noise on public transportation! The airport shuttles are startling enough, but even after three months back in America I was still totally unprepared for the NYC subways. The first time I took the N train into Manhattan I was way overwhelmed. I sat all tense and skittish, my eyes darting around the screeching carriage at all the unpredictable animals packed in with me, singing songs and dancing and yelling at each other and smelling like hair gel and sweat and trash and perfume. Of course, I got used to this fast -- before long I was grinning and skipping from platform to platform like "America's a circus, this is so fucking cool!"

Not actually a stranger but the lovely Melissa

WTF why is this person looking at me and talking to me

I got a lot of attention in Japan. Foreigners who look different get stared at, and young white ladies who speak Japanese can cause a stir in lots of places. But Japan lacks the American tendency to interact with strangers in proximity, and you really feel this difference when you come home. A lot.

You'll be like, trying to pick out an onion at the grocery store and suddenly some random guy's asking you a question. And you're like WHAT WHAT WHAT'S WRONG WHAT'S HAPPENING WHAT -- conveyed, of course, with a look of total alarm and a stammered, confused mumble -- and it takes you several seconds to realize he's just a guy at the grocery store also trying to pick out an onion, and since you both happened to be picking out onions in the same bin at the same time, he cracked a polite little joke about how many choices there were. By the time you start to remember that this is a normal thing that happens here, the poor guy has hurried away because you made him feel real awkward.

Hey stranger 'sup how you doin' OK bye man

While this is something you notice and can get used to quickly, last year it took me months -- months! -- to remember how to banter with strangers again after living in Japan. And it is absolutely one of my favorite things about my culture. People here are so open with their personalities, moods, and senses of humor. Granted, there are plenty of times when I'm not in the mood for that, and I have many fond memories of being left alone in Japan; but basically, American sociability really warms my heart and makes me feel like everyone's in it together.

GIVE ME SOME SPACE! 

I had a hard time with this one when I visited after I'd been living in Tokyo for a full year and some months. I felt like everyone was standing so close to me. When someone touched my shoulder in a casual conversation, it was startling and weird. I can't even really explain this because, as we all know, it's not like I never touched people in Tokyo. But when I got back here I felt like everyone was jabbing my bubble all the time.

It'll be OK. It'll be OK. It'll be OK. It'll be OK.
I was deep in Tokyo for a long time, but I got over all of this stuff within about four months. Fortunately, I actually like my country and culture -- always have! So as much as I dig Japan, I was totally willing to be embraced by the United States again. This isn't the case with everyone, from what I've heard. I've met a lot of Americans who went to Japan and came back a few months later just moaning and sighing about how much better everything is in Japan and how they haaaate being back here because America is sooo this and soooo that. Maybe that's part of the process for them,  I don't know. Even when I considered staying in Japan for ever, I never felt ill toward my own country and never doubted I could be happy there. Of course, I'm from Oregon, the greatest land of all, but the point is! If you weren't born and raised in Japan, then chill out about it, okay? You can survive your own country. All this stuff fades away as quickly as you let it. Give it a few months.

But...
What I didn't expect was the long-term version of reverse culture shock, the slow struggle to readjust as I start over in a new city in my own country. It's a sneakier feeling of disorientation, a sense of discomfort that comes and goes, a bleak confusion between your bones that you can't put into words -- and it drags on, and on, and on. That's another post. 

NOW I'M IN NEW YORK

I didn't know how to break it to you, but I did leave Japan.

Oh, man, it was hard. I can't tell you how hard it was. That's probably why I haven't been near this blog in so long. I mean that was an awful process, leaving Tokyo. I had so much to love there. I cried all the way to LAX. By the time I got to Portland, I felt fine. It wasn't the shock I expected. It was quieter and it took me awhile to realize, like I realize now, that my heart is still aching.

What is wrong with me? That's what I was thinking in those last few weeks. Why would I come to this place and work so hard to find these people I love so much and this life where I can do anything I want? Why would I do that and then force myself to leave it? Why am I hittin' myself? Why'm I hittin' myself?

I don't know why! I was so weary and grateful and devastated during those last days. On my date of departure, I drank coffee in Koenji with someone I cared about very much. When that person left the shop, my Tokyo life was over. There were no more friends to see and I was just waiting for my flight to leave. I couldn't stand that feeling, so I wiped my nose, cleared my table, picked up my bag, and walked across the street to get on the train.

And I'd go to Oregon and be with my family and my dog and my rivers and trees and bay, and I'd have a beautiful summer and I wouldn't cry for that other life much at all.

And a few months later it would be September and I'd be in New York and feeling lost. Here's now, and it's a strange moment to be in. I love being back in America. But nothing can take away this ache in my heart for the streets I walked, the trains I rode, the drinks I drank, the friends I loved, the city where I once said "I found myself in the white-hot nucleus of my youth!" Haha. Oh, Tokyo. You'll forget me and I can't help it, but I will remember our love forever.

Well, anyway. Now I'm in New York. Stay in touch and check back with my new blog here and/or on tumblr. Let's do it.

Degas in Yokohama

Months ago I went to see the Degas exhibition at Yokohama Art Museum. I just realized I don't know the difference between exhibit and exhibition.

That's the museum, that's all I've got. Hey, sometimes when you live in a big city for awhile, you get used to it and you get bored and you forget about all the cool shit that big cities get, like in museums, like paintings and fossils and artifacts. I try to get out once in awhile and catch whatever's in town. Or just the dinosaur bones in the Nature and Science Museum.

It was just getting cold that day.

Rooftops, Patios

Most people might have figured this out sooner than I did, but the top floors and rooftops of department stores in Tokyo almost always feature an indoor/outdoor space to chill out up high, drink some coffee, read a book, smoke a cigarette, whatever. There are benches, plants, and usually a decent view.

This is from the 12th floor of Takashimaya Times Square on the South side of Shinjuku Station, overlooking Shinjuku Park. You can test your cred by picking out the distant landmarks of all the neighborhoods you've been drunk in. Or taken walks or something, whatever, I don't know what you sickos get up to.

One floor up is a patio space. The top three floors are all restaurants and cafes so you can grab a coffee, although after nearly 3 years in Japan I still make a face at paying $4 for a little cup of iced sludge.

I've always had a weird relationship with Shinjuku.

Rainy Shin-Okubo

I know usually when it rains you can't be fucked to go out, but then sometimes you do and it's beautiful.

AKB48

There are 56 members in the idol group AKB48, all girls aged 12 to 24. AKB stands for Akihabara, the notoriously eccentric Tokyo neighborhood where the group was invented, and where they perform for creeps on the 8th floor of Don Quixote every day.

AKB48 members usually appear as schoolgirls, popping cute little blinky faces and wiggling their limbs in talent-show dance moves. When they're not dressed in school uniforms, they're in bikinis or sexy (but sweet) lingerie.

AKB48 is used to promote an incredible variety of mainstream products, and you see images of the group in convenience stores, on train platforms, on magazine covers, on drink bottles. Sometimes it seems like AKB48 is everywhere. This distresses me because in my dreams, Akihabara is a quarantine for this kind of gross lolita bullshit.

The neighborhood, famous for its concentration of game and electronics shops, has cultivated a similar concentration of shopping and entertainment catering to anime, video game, and pornography subcultures. What you can find in Akihabara ranges from awesome (vintage game consoles and offbeat memorabilia) to distressing (pornographic comic books featuring toddlers). Unfortunately, the neighborhood leaks.

About a year ago, my junior high school and high school students started showing up with AKB CDs and writing in their class journals about going to the convenience store to buy chocolates to get AKB member trading cards. Before long I'd lost count of how many times I'd watched groups of 12 year old boys unfold the jackets of AKB48 cds to exclaim over photos of the girls in thigh-high fishnets and skimpy pastel bras and panties making pouty porno-moe faces. I'd lost count of how many times I've heard 12 year old girls discuss which AKB member is the cutest.

This is a group that was invented specifically for otaku men who fetishize young girls. The idea was to assemble a bunch of fresh young female faces and bodies to be sexually idolized, and keep them close and accessible to the guys who idolized them. AKB48's fans get chances to meet them at events in Akihabara all the time, and, like most idol groups, AKB48 makes it a point to acknowledge its otaku fanbase and ply them with sweet comments like "I consider myself an otaku, as well!"

Choose your favorite member and pretend she's looking at you while she drinks juice!

Akihabara bothers me. Idol groups like this bother me. Adults drooling over young girls bothers me. Encouraging cuteness as a major female virtue bothers me. That a sizable portion of men in the world can only think of girls as a mystifying and intimidating species, approachable only when they act like talking cupcake babies, bothers me. But AKB48 in particular bothers me.

Kiss me...

It's disturbing that someone can create a product as a porno fantasy for men who like underage girls, and then, having cornered that market, push the same product onto children through heavy mainstream exposure with singalong songs on the radio and advertising tied to bottled soft drinks, chocolates, and snacks. It bothers me that parents of young boys and girls aren't disturbed by the idea of their kids sipping this sickly sweet lolicon brew.

Shopping Arcade

After midnight in Kichijoji.

Salad Party in Omotesando

Chicken, salad, drinks, art, a veranda and a view.



That was a lovely winter day.

Saki no Yu, Shirahama

The first time I came to Japan on a summer homestay, some friends of my host family took me on an overnight trip to Shirahama in Wakayama prefecture. That weekend is one of my most vivid memories of Japan. We went by car from Osaka. Shirahama is a popular beach and hot spring town and it's packed in the summer, but I was really charmed by the little white beach and all of the retro hotels, none built more recently than the 80s. We checked into an inn, where the bathtub faucet drew water from the surrounding hot springs. I don't love the smell of sulfur but this detail was so novel and cool. We had a big course lunch at the hotel and then walked along the beach. The next day we spend the morning and early afternoon at the beach, then headed back to Osaka by way of some really gorgeous wild mountain roads. We stopped at a place where there was a forest museum and a little shop selling charcoal products. I can't forget, though, that I thought I was gonna die on the drive home because the guy's driving was CRAZY and the wheels kept crossing the white line at the edge of these high mountain roads, ugh! Kansai drivers! I didn't really know the people I was with -- it was an older Japanese ceramics artist, his Japanese-American friend, her American husband, their American niece or something, and a little Japanese boy. We got along okay without really bonding. It's funny that I remember it as one of the best trips I ever went on and in the six years since I have been dying to get back down there one more time. And I just did!


sakino-yu, shirahama, a photo by hopemeng on Flickr.

This time I made it to Saki no Yu, an outdoor hot spring in Shirahama, one of the top 3 in Japan I guess. Look at it! It's amazing! A week ago I was in that far pool at the edge of the ocean, naked and simmered and splashed by the waves, yelling "POSEIDON!" It was excellent. I've wanted to go to this famous onsen for a long time and now I've been and it was awesome. Mid-April was the perfect time to go to Shirahama. No crowds at all, and it was just warm enough to kick back.