Girls, Girls, Girls

Tonight, I met up with some girls who work in a hostess bar in a business district in Tokyo. We met at a coffee shop near their club right before they had to start work. I was feeling nervous about meeting them, because I had already assumed that they would be the stereotypical hostess; catty, mean and threateningly gorgeous. It turns out that they'd just gotten out of bed, and was getting ready for a busy night ahead. They were nice girls, very polite and friendly. The two girls chatted about their crazy schedule (going to bed at 7am and waking up at 5pm) and why they live this way. Being a hostess is nothing to be ashamed of in Japanese culture. For these girls, working at the club only consists of drinking with their "customers", making jokes and generally being loud and fun. It has none of the negative associations that one would imagine.
The girls at the club also have fake names, and they said that it helps them to seperate their work from their personal life. However, all the girls were friends at the club, and some of them even lived together. I was allowed to meet the manager and the bartender of the club before it opened, and I was again surprised at how nice they all were. They greeted me, made jokes with the girls, and willingly talked to the camera.
The girls at the club who were already working were also very nice, and shy to the camera. I thought this was kind of funny because they were wearing such short dresses with a beer logo on them. I shudder to think that in a week, I will be in that same costume actually experiencing what it is like to be one of the "girls".
Apart from the dress-code, I thought the club was very different to what I expected. In Japan, these clubs are generally accepted and men, young and old go to get love advice, advice on raising their children (this is true, it turns out many fathers come to ask how to be liked by their children) and generally complain about their jobs.
So, all in all, my first experience at a hostess club was not as bad as I feared. However, it's the thing that awaits me next week that scares me the most......

Part 3 of Hiro-o Project

On my third day in Hiro-o, I walked around the same area and looked around for people to interview. There is such a range of people walking on the streets, so it was difficult to choose one person. I found my first interviewee walking with her friend pushing a pram. They were talking rapidly and looked so comfortable in their foreign environment. Their confidence made it almost frightening to approach them. But once I started talking to them, I found out that they were teachers at an international school. They had been living in Japan for a while, but in their minds, they had not assimilated into the culture at all. The two women found it very easy to ive in Hiro-o because they could speak English all the time, and there were many businesses that catered to their (gaijin) needs.

The second person I interviewed was sitting in Segafredo's. I went upstairs to the balcony to have a coffee among more French and Americans. I saw a Japanese man sitting by the exit, reading a French dictionary and looking at a map. I thought this was interesting, but I was unsure whether i should go up to him and talk to him. This was breaking all the rules of Japanese so-called "manners" and I didn't want to cause meiwaku for him. But I did ask to sit with him, and even though he was a little surprised he soon opened up and talked to me about his life and his experiences. He has travelled and lived overseas extensively in his life, so even though he doesn't live in Hiro, he feels at home in Hiro-o. He visits Hiro-o to get away from his work, to immerse himself in foreign culture while still being in japan. He pointed out the contrasting cultures that is so apparent here. There are the old fish shops on the sho-ten-gai, and not so far from there is the Azabu national market where you can still buy Tide, and read Hello magazine. The two women and also this gentleman explained that Hiro-o was unique from Roppongi, because the people in Hiro are more settled, and not like tourists with big cameras that you see in Akihabara or Asakusa. Hiro-o is more a residential area, and unlike Roppongi it doens't really have clubs and bars, so the area is more a "family" area.
After finishing my drink with my new friend in Segafredo's, I walked back to the barber that I checked out yesterday.

The barber was cutting a blonde businessman's hair. I waited on the vinyl couch and looked at his glass case full of baseball players' autographs. After his customer left, I asked him if I could interview him. He seemed used to interviews, and talked about how the barbershop had been run by his family for 100 years. They had lived and worked in Hiro even before the war, and even then there were many foreigners here because of all the embassys that surround the area.
I found it interesting that the barber could not speak any English although he had lived in Hiro all his life. The two women I met before had not assimilated into Japanese culture, and here was another person, who had not assimilated into the foreign culture around him. However, these people were still living side by side, enjoying the environment, working and living their life in Hiro-o.

More photos

広尾-Second day observation

I went to Hiro-o on my second day and took some photos of the streets. I walked my usual path from Hiro 2 chome, past the old japanese cemmetery, the temple, the sho-tengai (the street with all the shops) and then to the Hiro junction. From there, I went to Segafredo's, and took some photos of the barbar and the beauty salon that I saw there. It was a cloudy day, and it began to rain, so I hopped onto a taxi driven by a nice gentleman called Sasaki san, who gave me a general tour of the area.

September 18th Part 2

The Hiro intersection is a busy area with many cars, people and ofcourse in Japan, bicycles. Unlike other areas of Tokyo though, there is a obvious absence of tourists. All the foreigners seem to live here either carrying grocery bags or pushing baby trolleys. I cross the ko-sa-ten to the other side. There is a narrow windy street up the hill. I notice a very old, Japanese beauty parlour and a barbarshop. It's interesting to see such traditional salons or "tokoya" in an area where everyone seems to go to places like "Mod's"or "Tony&Guy".

The two salons are on a small street next to Segafredo's. This cafe is really popular with foreigners here in Hiro and also in Shibuya. I suppose the Europeans and Americans like the coffee here and the international atmosphere. I order a drink that I can't pronounce and the man who serves me says, "(name of drink I ordereld), preggo!" to the coffee maker behind him. I thought that was funny because he was obviously Japanese and his accent sounded stilted . The coffee came in a martini glass (??) and I watched and listened to the people around me. There were French, Italian and valley-girl English being spoken. From the balcony, I can see the national azabu market, which is basically a supermarket for foreigners with products completely overpriced.

I find it interesting that many people shop here, when I'm sure there are many cheaper supermarkets around this area. Also, it is strange how the supermarket also sells American or British dishwashing liquid. It is strange that some people feel the need to buy specific dish washing liquid from their home country. Perhaps this shows that some foreigners living in Japan have no intention to, or find it difficult to assimilate or even integrate into the culture.

September 18th-広尾 Part1

I'm sitting under a tree at the Hirobashi intersection. There is the Gaien Nishi Road infront of me, busy and loud with all the traffic, intersecting with a smaller street with lots of smaller shops. It has been quite cloudy all day, and it looks as though it will start raining anytime now. Several girls in high school uniforms all spaking American English walk past me. Some of them have blonde hair, some have Japanese features and curly gold hair. They meet another group of girls, similarly dressed at the intersection and use a mixture of Japanese and English to chat. One of them is wearing pink gum boots, or wellies, with her Japanese school uniform. Her European features makes her look like an anime character.
Today I walked from Hiro 2 chome past an traditional Japanese cemmetery, which is in a neighborhood full of expensive houses with sattelite discs, automated garage doors, huge windows and expensive cars. I walk through this ex-pat area through the small windy back streets of Hiro towards a street that people here would call the sho-ten gai. It's something similar to a mall, but a street with places to shop and eat. Ramen shops stand next to American clothing shops called "Rodeo Drive". There are blonde haired kids eating at Homework's, as well as the older ladies of the area making the rounds. Every second person I bump into is a foreigner. I hear many different languages, Russian, Chinese, French and mostly English.
The ladies are discussing the birth of Princess Kiko's baby at a nearby hospital in Hiro. It is interesting to hear how excited they are that there is a boy born to the royal family now.

Julian Worrall Presentation

Last Thursday Julian Worrall, an architect in Tokyo came to talk to us about his research on urban public space in Tokyo. He concetrated on the concept of "public space" in urban Tokyo, and especially talked about his research on the connection between space and social encounters. His presentation had excellent examples of different train stations, the message towers and statues outside the stations, and the history of the structure of the stations. From this presentation, it was evident that there is a close link between the structure of stations, public space in Tokyo and the social interaction between people. The manner posters that Julian presented were very reflective of Japanese society. This illustrated how Japanese public space is strictly regulated and there is no real social freedom in these areas. For example, Julian talked about the space infront of the Tokyo Metropolian government building. It is modelled on the public "plaza" in Siena, Italy. Even though this was built specifically as a "public space", it is a drafty, uncomfortable area where no-one spends their time.

Julian's research on the statues and other sculptures surrounding train stations was also intersting. I pass these sculptures everyday, and I never question what these objects are and why they are there. It was amusing to look at the photos of these sculptures and the very cheesy, cliche messages that they held. Many of them resembled Greek sculptures and they had messages like "love" and "peace" depicting heart-warming (!) figures of mother and children.
Message towers all over Tokyo, also call out to the citizens to act more responsibly and treat others with kindness. The messages seem often very obvious and it is difficult to understand why the police station, the ward office or any other association would spend the money to post these messages that no-one appreciates.

The presentation last Thursday pointed out many interesting aspects about Japanese public space. It made me realise that Japanese society is very unique in the way that it functions, and many things that I hadn't noticed before came to light.
On my way home, I found a message tower next to the station. It says, lets build a brighter, better society with hands of love. Also I took a photo of the sun setting on the station.

Rush Hour

Being on a rush hour train is like fighting a private war against the world. For someone like me who spent the last 6 years of my life frolicking in the wide open spaces of New Zealand, getting on that 8:26 train is an attack to all my senses. I push myself into the train carriage, searching for some air space between all the businessmen with all their black suits and matching brief cases. The whole train is full of "suimasen", "suimasen" (meaning excuse me in Japanese) as everyone bumps and falls on eachother as the train accelerates. I hold onto the jacket sleeve of an older woman and then step on a black polished shoe of a salary-man. At this point, amazingly, no-one has lost their temper. Everone's blank public face is still in place, and everyone tries to retreat into their own world.

In Japan, people from all walks of life spend their time on the train. There are poor people sitting next to rich people. Farmers travel to Tokyo next to bankers and financial advisers. Women and men, young and old sit, stand, mush against eachother in this big whole mess of the crowded train. In front of me there are three giggling high school girls, clutching their Yokohama guide book comparing cell phones and gosiping about a certain girl in their school. Beside them is a young woman desperately fighting off sleep and leaning over to the farmer next to her. The farmer is staring blankly in space, not focused on anything, silent except to ask his wife what station they're headed for. A businessman in a very tailored suit gives them a bemused glance as he reads his comic book.

Getting off the train is chaotic. If you unlucky enough to be standing by the doors, you could easily get pushed out by the masses behind you at a station that is not actually your stop. Fight as you may against the tide of people, but you are fighting a losing battle.

The Train Experience

Riding a train in Japan is a social/cultural experience of its own. I live 2 hours outside of Tokyo in a different prefecture called Saitama. Because of this, I am forced to commute to school for 1 and a half hours every day. Riding the train and manuevering yourself around the underground system becomes a daily ritual for most Japanese people. I remember reading ridiculous statistics about how much hours or days on average a person spends in the toilet or in bed in their whole lifetime. As I sat on the train ( I had to fight a high school girl for the seat) I wondered how many hours or how many days we spend on the train. Probably a considerable amount of time. It is strange that even though we spend so much time in the train everyday, we feel no attachment to it. It is almost the opposite of attachment, but a complete unattachment from the environment. I noticed today riding on the train that everyone in my carriage seemed to have the "public transport face" on. it's a blank look, looking out to empty space, a face without any emotion. It is impossible to know whether someone is sad, angry, happy or excited on the train. Unless they're with someone else, no-one converses with strangers on the train. Maybe that is one way of having private time in such a public space.

I always notice time more when I'm catching the train. Every second, every minute counts. I examine the train schedule, check the quickest route to my destination, and wait impatiently for the train to arrive. As a rule, Japanese trains are never late. Not unless there is a snow storm, hail storm or a gozilla attack. Then I imagine the distance from one platform to the other when I'm transferring to another train line. All in all, riding the train hones all your senses.

Echigo-Tsumari Triennial

Yesterday we had a guest presentation by Mr Atsushi Ogata, an artist/filmmaker who has worked and lived in Holland for many years. He showed us some footage of the art exhibition in Niigata prefecture that takes place every three years. Many of the artists from all over the world incorporated the space and the environment in their art work.

I was really amazed to see the variety of art works that were shown at the Triennial, and especially the enthusiasm and support from the local people. I especially liked the exhibitions that took place inside the old buildings of the area. Mr Ogata used an abandoned house for his "Step in Step out" work that filled the house with many different images of the locals walking and going about their normal daily routine. It also incorporated sounds, sculptures of shoes, feet and special lighting for each area of the house. The house was filled with art work with the concept of "walking" which was again integrated with the sound and movement of the visitors' walking. This art work required the viewer to participate in it, to actually walk through the house and to discover their own meaning.

The whole Triennial was spread out in a vast agricultural area, and it was interesting to hear that there were bus tours so people could move from one art work to another. This is a completely different way of appreciating art from just standing infront of a painting in a gallery or spending a day at the art museum. Art works shown in Mr Ogata's footage were works that required involvement by the viewer, and I thought that was a very interesting concept.