|
|
|
Jason on Japan
Disasters
March 26, 2005 |
archives
Turns out Tokyo and Yokohama top the list of cities in the world most likely to be hit by a powerful tsunami from an earthquake. This according to a German insurance group. Of course, Japan's backroom-payoff construction ministry has busied itself over the past several decades pouring cement on every meter of shoreline in preparation for just such an event. Too bad, then, that they recently discovered that 20% of the breakwaters are lower than tsunamis. The cynical among us expect that such a "discovery" was actually part of the original planning by that money-hungry group. After all, tearing down and then rebuilding correctly such projects is extremely lucrative. Too bad all that money has to come from somewhere. According to the Yomiuri Shimbun, Japan's government finances are in such arrears that they will need to raise the consumption tax, most likely from 5% to 10%. Plus they're about to sell government bonds overseas for the first time since the Russo-Japanese war 99 years ago. Backing up last week's post about the Ministry of Education deciding to increase the suicide rate by requiring that children attend Saturday classes, here's a nice addendum from the head of the Education, Science, and Technology Ministry: he's no longer willing to tolerate Japan's "pressure-free" education system. He intends to create an accute, no-exceptions premium on academic achievement. To do so, he will find a way to cram more class hours into the school day. That means more rote memorization, peer pressure, tests, and all in all more stress. So, you can see that he's getting what he wanted. The "pressure-free," party-til-you drop atmosphere will at last give way to serious study. His project for next year? Finding a way to get more than 24 hours into a school day. It seems to me, however, that the real evidence of school children having too much time on their hands comes on the monthly cell phone bill. The average tab for late-teen boys runs about 6,000 yen, roughly $58. That comes from lots of talking, of course, and an average 30 emails per day. Little surprise, given all this joy surrounding Japanese childhood, that the birthrate is so low. Who'd want to bring someone into the world here? There are more pets in Japan than there are children under the age of 15. Didn't take long for the government to get involved. The proposed solution is to spend money on matchmaking agencies to produce more marriages. People pay about 400,000 yen ($3,900) to join an agency, yet only 8% or so ever find a mate. The government committee concluded its study of the situation by suggesting that it set up a complaints department. Thank goodness the government has its priorities straight. While doing its best to tie the kids into pressure pretzels and bump the suicide rate up to 40,000 per year, it's showing kindness to sex offenders. Wouldn't want dirty men getting their feelings hurt. Yes, the country that solves public molestation of women by offering female-only train cars rather than prosecuting the molesters, has decided that publishing the names of sex offenders would disturb their privacy. What could possibly be more important than protecting the privacy of sexual misfits? They undoubtedly have interesting designs on that free time. Finally, furthering the obvious evidence that men come first around here, Toyota has teamed with Chubu Electric Power Corp. and Central Japan Railways to make an all-boys high school to produce business leaders.
Work 'Em To The Bone
March 14, 2005 |
archives
Japan's Ministry of Education, drawing upon the same deep wisdom that has led it to teach grammar-based English for the past fifty years, is considering forcing schools to hold Saturday classes. Two years ago, the classes were taken off the schedule to allow millions of overworked kids a little breathing room. But with a mere five days a week devoted to class time, authorities are worried that Japanese students are "falling behind." On that grammar point, fifty years of teaching every breathing person on the islands the difference between "who" and "whom" has created a population that can pass a test but can't order a hamburger at McDonald's. You'd think somebody'd wake up and suggest conversational English the way it's taught in the Philippines, where nearly everybody can speak English. In Japan, though, nobody cares. Tests are everything and objective tests are the highest pinnacle of education. If it can't be measured by a computer, then it doesn't matter. Hence, out with conversation, in with SAT-type worthless memorization. Japan's economy is still not on track. It's been 16 years since the bursting of the bubble. Who's in charge here? At least the ad agencies are doing their parts. Japanese city dwellers supposedly see some 3,000 commercial messages every day. The latest innovations in advertising have placed messages on escalator handrails, the sides of trains (look fast), on train station turnstiles, over urinals, on toilet-paper holders, and on Yokohama City trash truck hubcaps. Not quite the moss rock Zen garden you expected, is it? In what is surely no coincidence, 34,000 Japanese committed suicide last year. That's a record, and in a country known for its high suicide rate. Left-behind notes and other evidence suggests the reason to be bankrupt companies cutting staff and overloading survivors with all the extra work. Some cheerful onlookers say that at least the cut workers can get their jobs back due to the newly vacated seats. That passes for a silver lining in Japan. And on another high note, just when you thought no country could be deeper in debt than the U.S. -- surprise! -- Japan is the debt champion. The country's debt is 151% of gross domestic product. In the U.S., it's just under 40%. That's the latest from Sano, where spring is trying its best to push winter aside. The plum blossoms are already shining white. The cherry blossom trees are shaking to burst. A bicycle ride through town is a great way to start the day.
Bus And Dump Truck Fumes
May 17, 2004 |
archives
I live in Sano, a countryside city of just 80,000 people that's about two hours northwest of Tokyo. There are rock quarries in two nearby mountain towns named Tanuma and Kuzu. All day every day giant dump trucks, called just "dumps" here, rumble to and from the mountains and through Sano onto the main freeway at the edge of the city, Route 50. It's not uncommon to see six or eight dumps in a row creating a minor earthquake as they roar by.
Every time I go for a drive or a bicycle ride, I end up behind one or more of these damned things. They emit swirls of dust and grime from the bed of the truck, and they belch clouds of diesel exhaust. In addition to the daily dump convoys, there are packs of buses in and around Sano, as well. Japan is much more into public transportation than we are in America. I would venture a guess that the combined weight of the dumps and the buses exceeds the combined weight of all buildings in Sano.
Yet, despite their being such a way of life here and despite Japan's knack for quality design, nobody has figured out that the exhaust pipes should come out the top of the vehicle, above traffic, rather than from below the bumpers right into the windshield of the next vehicle in line.
In L.A., all city buses and all 18-wheelers plume their exhaust from the tops of the vehicles into the sky. This is not an advanced concept. It's how chimneys have worked for thousands of years. Yes, top-exhaust vehicles still pollute the atmosphere, but at least they don't pollute the street any more than necessary. This is no small matter when there are as many large, belching vehicles per capita as there are in Sano. Black lung is here to stay.
I should make this suggestion at City Hall, but I can already tell you the response I'd get: "Hmmm..." along with a perfunctory nod.
Differences Between L.A. And Japan
May 13, 2004 |
archives
I've been thinking more about the differences between L.A. and Japan. I suppose this topic is as big as you want to make it, but here are some things I noticed on my recent trip back to Los Angeles:
Everything I've read about overweight Americans is true. There are so many fat people in L.A. and they're often not just chubby, they're huge.
McDonald's isn't the only restaurant that thought of supersizing. Every restaurant I went to in L.A. gave portions big enough for a family of four.
L.A.'s freeway system is superb. Bet you don't read that much. Listen, if you think traffic jams in America are bad, travel the world a little. L.A.'s huge freeways and their extensive web of interchanges makes getting around the city a piece of cake. I've always found it easy to avoid L.A. traffic by timing my trips just right. Of course, it helps not having a regular job and therefore no rigid commuting schedule.
Tipping in restaurants is a crock. It's gone way beyond its usefulness. The whole point of tipping is to reward somebody for a job unusually well-done, and to motivate them to keep doing it well. Now that the tip is expected and standard at 20%, there is no motivation for the server to do a better job. He or she gets tipped no matter what. Some receipts even include the tip on the tab, or at least a suggested tip amount. How presumptuous! In Japan, there is NO tipping and the service is usually better than in America, albeit robotic.
The sense of anything being possible blankets America. People are doing so many things, walking so many paths, and dreaming so big in L.A. that it was intoxicating. In Japan, few people dream. They do what they're supposed to do and it's most likely what their parents did. If you want to know everything about a Japanese person's life including what kind of place they live in, what kind of car they drive, what they do on weekends, and how much they make, just find out their age and gender.
Japanese weather is a daily disappointment. Most of the year is either unbearably hot and humid, bitterly cold, or raining. Pleasant, sunny days are cherished and they are beautiful, but they're so darned rare! Being back in sunny SoCal put a smile on my face.
L.A. must have the most beautiful home gardens in the world. The flower beds surrounding my own house were in full bloom with roses and Star Jasmine. The walk from the street to the front door was like a stroll through a perfumery -- and this was before Gardenia season! The yards in San Marino, Glendale, and Toluca Lake were works of art with Morning Glories over latticework, gushing water fountains, and lawns trimmed to the precision of putting greens. In Japan, the seldom-seen home garden generally consists of some wax-leafed bushes trimmed into the shape of a ball. To see flowers, you pay to go to a flower park. All the Japanese zen garden books in American bookstores make people think of Japan as a garden paradise, a shrine to simplicity, where water drips and moss grows. Sure. The simplicity in most of Japan comes in the form of block structure buildings devoid of any greenery needing water. What could be simpler?
Back From L.A.
May 11, 2004 |
archives
I just returned from 10 days in Los Angeles for Golden Week, Japan's annual spring vacation.
It takes a few days to adjust to being back here. I love L.A. and I love Japan, but the transition from one to the other is hard. My tendency is to long for the one I just left behind. When I first arrive in L.A. I note the poor service, need to tip, rude people, and complex hustle-bustle lifestyle. When I first arrive in Japan, I note the boring single style of architecture, naive attitudes of the people, slow lifestyle that seems woefully out of touch with the rest of the world, and lack of ambition among people. L.A. is about image and pretense; Japan is about babies and business. L.A is a blur of activity and selfishness; Japan is a slow, plodding path from one predictable life station to the next. People in Japan strive for the same things their great, great grandparents strove for. People in L.A. don't even know who their great, great grandparents were.
Cotton Candy Everywhere
March 31, 2004 |
archives
The sakura, or cherry blossoms, have arrived. This is the most anticipated of all the seasons in Japan. In a matter of days, the dark-barked trees transform from winter skeletons into spring flower gardens. I'm not kidding about the abruptness. Just last Friday the tree at the corner of the park past which I ride my bicycle each day was a cold, empty, tangle of knuckles and long bony fingers. Suddenly on Monday, it was covered in pink baby fuzz. Today, it's filled with blossoms.
I walked through the park today. It's called Shiroyama Koen, which means Castle Mountain Park. There's not a castle in sight and it's nowhere near the mountains, however, so I'm not sure how it got the name. Regardless, it's one of the most interesting unknown places to see sakura. Only a handful of local people know about it, and this town of Sano has only 80,000 people. Thus, in the scheme of things, it's a pretty private place.
What scheme? I'm thinking of the most famous of sakura sites like Ueno Park in Tokyo, Yoshino near Kyoto, and maybe the moat around the Imperial Palace. Try getting anywhere near those places on a weekend and you'll swear off sakura for the rest of your life. Take a two-hour train ride from Tokyo into the countryside where I live, get off at Sano Station, and walk directly out the back side of the station into Shiroyama Koen, and you'll put this season on your calendar for as long as you live.
I walked through the park yesterday with Asuka and asked her why people love the trees so much. "Because they come and go so quickly," she said. I agree. It's the reverse of the old saying about the stars, how we'd marvel at them so if they came but once every ten years. Because they appear every night, we cast them nary a glance most of the time. With sakura, they weren't here a week ago and they won't be here a week later, not in full at least. You better see them now while you can or you'll be waiting another year.
That understanding is not lost on the Japanese. Companies and families dispatch designees to watch over their space under a favorite tree all day so that it's waiting for them at night. For what? A hanami, or flower drinking party. People show up at dusk with supplies for an elaborate picnic under the sakura. They set up gas camp stoves, coolers of alcohol, and endless containers of food. Then they sit and sing and drink until they're not sure where they are anymore, but they're still under those canopies of cotton candy.
I'll close with the immortal words of my friend Michael Graetzer from his song "Sakura" on his album Soul Direction:
Sakura, here today and gone tomorrow
Sakura, the blossom with wings
Sakura, you're the beauty and the sorrow
wonder what this year will bring to me
until you come back again
turning the winter to spring, sakura, sakura, sakura
Let's Destroy Another Road
February 16, 2004 |
archives
It seems that everywhere I go, on any day of the week, there is a road crew at work. They're digging, scraping, banging, and otherwise tearing the road to pieces, never to be the same again. All roads here are narrow and boast a surface like that of the moon: cratered, dipped, and uneven.
Try as I might, I can't find what the hell they're doing. Nothing is added; nothing is fixed. They're not pulling old pipes up and replacing them with new ones. I haven't been offered faster internet connection service. The reason I can't find what they're doing is that they're not doing anything beyond preserving their budgets. Like all good bureaucracies, the one that keeps Japanese road crews hard at work destroying roads across the country has self-preservation foremost on its list of priorities. The best way to keep getting money from the government is to keep billing. The best way to show that the bills are about the right price is to spend every last dime itemized.
This would be funny if it wasn't costing the economy so much. The most humorous part of all would have to be the officially-dressed and helmeted traffic directors, inevitably old men with permanent scowls, who wield reflective batons with all the seriousness of somebody providing ground signals to Air Force One. Their solemn duty? Waving traffic past the unnecessary construction taking place. I bite my tongue when they simply mimic the commands being sent by the perfectly functional traffic light hanging above their heads. It turns green indicating that I should go, and the traffic officer waves his baton to me indicating that I should go.
Good allocation of resources, Japan.
Archives
August 2003September 2003December 2003February 2004March 2004May 2004March 2005
|
|
|
|
