Life In Japan: Monkey Attack!

In all the years I lived in America, I can honestly say I never had what happened to me this morning ever occur even once. Not in Michigan, Florida, Oregon. Not even in California, where there are no limits on the craziness.

My wife and I were finishing breakfast this morning and when we looked out the back window on the forest that is adjacent to our property, there was a MONKEY!

I know the photo makes it look like it’s watching TikTok on an iPhone, but he was actually munching on a potato he got from someone. Maybe us?

While usually such sightings are quite rare, monkeys are very much a part of the “fabric of like” here. Let me elaborate.

Understand that they can be very troublesome. Several monkeys can wipe out an entire garden in one raid, the veggies it took two or three months to grow. At the same time, our city officials don’t want to mercilessly eliminate them. After all, before we humans came along, this was their land. They are part of the eco-system here that has thrived for millennia.

We have five groups of monkeys — groups are extended families or communities — A through E. Group D is the most aggressive, or as we humans might say, the one that shows the most initiative. The groups are dispersed throughout the area, but it’s Group D that makes its presence felt around our house. Lucky us!

The monkey groups are tracked by the city government. There are chips inserted in members of each group. When possible, the city lets us know when a raiding party is moving in on a particular location.

Citizens report sightings as well. Right after we saw the monkey this morning, I alerted a neighbor, a gentleman who serves as the unofficial monkey policeman. Immediately, another neighbor phoned a report into City Hall. Our own monkey sheriff grabbed some fireworks launchers — these are hand-held tubes that fire a round of three explosive charges high into the air — and he set them off. The explosions are very loud, but I have a suspicion the monkeys are used to them and just ignore them.

It was community work day, so I left to work. While I was cutting weeds around our village shrine . . .

. . . my wife Masumi had two more visits by our encroacher.

I can’t blame the monkey. It’s spring and there is an inviting assortment of vegetables growing all around to select from. Time to catch up on eating after the sparse winter months.

As I’ve often said, the excitement never lets up here!

Do you doubt it?

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What Do Mermaids Eat?

I’m thinking about how many times in my life someone has asked me this question . . .

“What Do Mermaids Eat?”

Ah hah! I remember. ONE TIME!

That was when my unpredictable, truly fascinating Japanese wife was sitting across from me in a café on Taketomi Island, Okinawa.

We had just come from swimming at a lovely beach. Unfortunately, the water was very shallow and the entire seabed was covered with sea cucumbers. We had to walk very carefully, scoping out the sandy bottom every step we took.

Sea cucumbers in a word are disgusting! They are ugly tubes of squishy flesh that seem to have no purpose on the planet. They don’t move. They just lay there. If you’re unlucky enough to step on one, it’s an unpleasant sensation, like stepping on an intestine.

We survived the attack of the sea cucumbers — now there’s a great movie title if I ever heard one — dried off, then stopped at the café on the way back to our guest house. While we ate a snack lunch, we were engaged in light conversation, generally in very high spirits, being in the luxurious warmth of the sun and pleasant blowing breeze of this Japanese paradise. I made a few more wise cracks about how repulsive the sea cucumbers were, how drab and pointless their lives are, and asked jokingly, “What the hell do those things eat?”

Masumi smiled and said, “And what about mermaids? What do mermaids eat?”

That was the one time. And it became the inspiration for my latest book!

After several years in development, this fantasy/travel/cookbook will be available next month. And yes, you’ll find out first hand the answer to this salient, very thought-provoking question.

I promise you: It’ll be fun. It’s a book to treasure over the years, guaranteed to bring smiles to anyone who reads the stories.

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Life In Japan: My Wife the Drummer

My wife is amazing!

Anyone familiar with Masumi knows she’s a teacher, specifically a music teacher of elementary students at a school in Inagawa, a medium-size town less than an hour from Tambasasayama.

But like many — most? — Japanese people, she is always finding ways to improve herself. This includes periodically taking courses and training to increase her teaching, her ongoing study of English, her studies and activism in human rights and peace, and of course improving our seasonal efforts to grow a variety of vegetables. Just yesterday, we harvested our potato crop!

But despite more than thirty years teaching kids both how to play and how to appreciate music, she is also still improving her “chops” at learning and performing music. She is already a marvelous piano player and singer, and regularly takes ballet classes.

Now, much to my surprise and genuine delight, she is dedicating much time and energy to learning to play cello and — see above — DRUMS!

Masumi has a top-of-the-line Roland V-Drums electronic kit set up here at home, which allows her to practice daily without disturbing me or the neighbors. While on headphones, she gets the full effect of the drum fury she creates, we on the “outside” only hear the light pitter-patter of drumsticks on rubber pads.

The photo at the head of this article was taken at her first drum recital last year. For this live show, she played on a real drum kit, performing Stevie Wonder’s Knocks Me Off My Feet.

This year, at my suggestion I might add, she’s performing Vanessa Carlton’s Thousand Miles. I’m really looking forward to it! This is one of my all-time favorite songs. It’s so completely original, combining classical and pop, a phenomenal production and vocal performance. It has a nicely-grooving drum part, uniquely incorporating syncopated snare hits during the chorus, a highly unusual choice for a pop song.

Most of all . . . I get to see the fruits of Masumi’s many hours practicing drums! It should be great fun.

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Life In Japan: A rose is a rose is an onion . . .

I was trying the other day to imagine what went through my mind when I was 25. It’s both a difficult and amusing exercise.

It requires erasing a lot of experience, history, knowledge, wisdom, joy and pain — maybe ‘ignoring’ is a better term — and seeing what sparse caricature of reality is left to assemble into a marginally coherent view of the world, recognizing that “hindsight” is still at play here, sabotaging the mechanics of memory.

It also requires recalling — painful and even embarrassing as it might be — what dreams and expectations I entertained at the time, as immature and undeveloped as I was.

I can’t say I came up with anything very interesting or startling. One thing I can assert with absolute certainty . . .

I never imagined I would at this stage in my life be living in Japan growing onions in my modest garden!

Not that I have anything against onions. On the contrary, onions are spectacular! They have a lot of symmetry and are about as essential as it gets in the kitchen.

It’s just that at 25 I was still living in my home state of Michigan. And I was more pre-occupied with exhaust fumes than fertile soil or keeping monkeys from stealing me blind. True, I was no longer in Detroit. And 25-years-of-age was post-university. But avoiding the exhaust fumes of pompous college professors had replaced avoiding the exhaust fumes of automobiles and factories.

Anyway here I am. And I’m a “proud papa”! Just look at this fine specimen . . .

Yes, a lot has happened over the many years, and a lot has changed. So my life is not just about vegetables. I write novels and unique — some would say eccentric — creative non-fiction books. More importantly, much of my focus these days is on political activism, specifically anti-war activism. You can get the flavor of my efforts HERE and HERE.

Oh . . . one last thing. The inspiration for the title of this article was Gertrude Stein. Here is the story from Wikipedia: “The sentence ‘Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose’ was written by Gertrude Stein as part of the 1913 poem Sacred Emily, which appeared in the 1922 book Geography and Plays.” As if you didn’t already know that.

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Life In Japan: Peace Parade

You wouldn’t know it from the saber-rattling of recently assassinated former prime minister Shinjo Abe, or current prime minister Fumio Kishida, whose slavish obsequiousness to the forever war whims of the United States, is shameful and nauseating. But the vast majority of Japanese citizens, especially the older generations who remember the horrors of World War II, are for peace. They support Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution, which forbids anything other than a purely defensive military, just what is minimally necessary to defend Japan from aggression by other countries.

As a public school teacher, my wife Masumi belongs to a union and that union supports a truly left-wing agenda, one that serves the interests of working people and actively promotes peace.

Every year, they have a sizable demonstration, a march in Kobe for their admirable agenda.

This year emphasized their support for strict adherence to Article 9 and separating Japan from its destructive allegiance to America. The U.S still has at last count 56 military bases here, essentially an occupation force in place continuously almost 80 years after the Japanese surrendered and hostilities of the Second World War ended. That was September 2, 1945.

I guess to avoid its characterization as being “confrontational”, this years rally was called a parade, though it felt like a demonstration to me, minus the tear gas and pepper spray. Mind you, the last such event I attended was in 2003 in Portland, Oregon, when 58,000 people in a futile effort to prevent U.S. aggression, marched against invading Iraq. We were among the millions across the entire globe who raised our voices, who declared loud and clear, heartfelt opposition to the anticipated, unjustified, illegal war on Iraq — one based purely on lies propagated by the Bush administration. We know how that turned out.

Which is largely the reason for my current position on demonstrations. They feel good, they are important in terms of “educating” the public, they usually represent the best instincts and intentions of the saner elements in society — the pro-Palestinian demonstrations going on right now being a very noble example — BUT the people who need to hear the messaging of such efforts aren’t paying attention and certainly aren’t listening. So no matter how many people attend or how much they’re on the correct side of an issue, demonstrations are for the most part ineffective, and have been since the anti-Vietnam War rallies back in the 70s. That’s the reality of the situation as it currently stands. Sad but true.

In any case, Masumi and I marched for peace with about 5,000 other good, decent folks. As the only Westerner, I both stood out and felt very special.

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I made my own sign for the peace parade. On one side it said in English, “Respect other people, respect other countries, no more war.” On the other side, the same message was in Japanese, to which my wife added, “Respect others, respect yourself.” Nice touch! Which is why I married this wonderful person. She’s brilliant and her heart is in the right place.

Lucky me!

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Life In Japan: Shitake Barbecue Restaurant

First some background. Until I arrived in Japan, I never heard of barbecuing anything other than meat — hot dogs, hamburgers, ribs, steak, drumsticks, in other words, beef, pork, chicken. If it didn’t at some earlier stage bleed, run around or graze, cluck, squeal, or moo, then it didn’t qualify. I never even saw anyone barbecue fish, though that would have been marginally acceptable. Fish can stare back at you.

Then in 2008, I was invited to a birthday party here in Japan. Lordy lordy, I couldn’t believe my eyes! The master chef manning the grill was throwing all sorts of peculiar food items onto the grating: bell peppers, mushrooms, slices of squash, onions, garlic cloves, corn. I looked around. No seeing eye dog. So it must have been intentional.

Sure enough, I discovered that this is standard operating procedure in Japan. Of course, there is the usual assortment of flesh-based fare as well. But I have to say, barbecued veggies and the like are very delicious, and moreover, a nutritious adjunct to the typical meat-eating orgy.

Now, on with today’s tale.

My wife, one of her twin daughters, and I had an interesting experience recently. We went to a shitake barbecue restaurant, specializing — you guessed it — in shitake mushrooms! What made it so interesting is that we gathered our own shitake to grill. They grow it on the premises and when you enter, they give you a little green basket and off you go, personally selecting the feature food item for today’s barbecue feast.

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While the restaurant has indoor seating in the event of inclement weather, eating outside in good company is the best way to enjoy the experience.

One thing occurred to me as I was writing this. I wonder if there would be more vegetarians in the world if we had to choose our meat the way we did with the shitake.

“Oh, wow! Let’s eat that cow! The one over there by the fence.”

“Yes, that baby calf looks real young and tender.”

“Mommy, mommy! Can we eat that chicken?”

Just saying.

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Life In Japan: Yosakoi Festival

The fun and excitement never lets up here. This past weekend, there was another festival here in Tambasasayama, a somewhat unusual one. Mind you, the previous weekend we had our splendiforous, annual Cherry Blossom Festival, celebrating — you guessed it — the blooming of the cherry blossom trees, which populate the landscape here in the thousands. So, neither Masumi or I expected yet another festival so soon.

I should point out that Masumi warned me that this surprise festival, the Yosakoi Matsuri, is a noisy, obnoxious affair. Specifically, the music is loud, grating, and frankly impossible to categorize. It’s modern, has a big cosmic beat, uses modern instrumentation, and borrows from multiple genres — hip hop, electropop, jazz, rock — occasionally hints at “traditional” Japanese music without sounding in the least traditional. Its primary purpose is to support the dancing and flag waving on and near to the main stage. In terms of the dancing, there we see again, a blend of dance moves drawn from all over the map. There’s a short video at the end of this article, which offers the overall “look” but is not at all representative of most of the performances. It has a very traditional vibe. Most of the rest of the dancing looked like high school dance teams.

Anyway, it’s all good fun. People seem to enjoy the performance, though the music reminded me I need to carry my earplugs wherever I go. You just never know.

Here are some random shots of the festival . . .

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And here is a very short video of the type of action we saw on stage . . .

There you have it, folks. What can I say? Life in Japan, out here in the countryside, never loses its charm.

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Life In Japan: 2nd Day of Spring

Have I ever mentioned how crazy the weather is here?

Crazy? Crazier than what?

I guess I’m comparing it to the predictability I became accustomed to in Michigan, California, and Oregon.

In Michigan, we had starkly contrasting seasons. Despite the rigors of surviving the cold, the blizzards, the ice storms of Michigan winters, it all made sense and seemed to be on a fairly tight schedule. California was so predictable, fighting the meteorological boredom was the greatest challenge. Portland, Oregon was predictably wet. It rained 200-250 days a year.

I’m not sure what produces the huge swings in weather here in Tambasasayama, Japan. I just know that, when I head out on my bike, my backpack has to cover a very wide range of contingencies. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve left the house dressed sympatico with the brilliant, warm sunshine and soothing, calm air, to return less than an hour later fighting gale winds, drenched to the bone as a result of a major downpour. Two consolations are that I haven’t yet been sucked into the eye of a tornado or hit by lightning. Both were quite common in Michigan.

Case in point: The first day of spring was sunny and pleasant, hearkening the onset of fine days ahead, strolls through town, picnics in the park. The second day of spring is pictured above.

Of course, a lot has changed over the decades. I left Michigan in 1980. I left California in 1995. I left Oregon in 2006. Has Mother Nature put the pedal to the metal on climate change? Is that it? I’m not really sure. Recent photos on the internet don’t show palm trees in Michigan or glaciers in Los Angeles. They do have lots of fires in California. Maybe it’s people forgetting to put out their campfires. Or karma. You know, Sodom and Gomorrah. Portland, Oregon has been and still is — to my best understanding — just weird. Nothing new there. Maybe new weirdness?

I’ll have to rely on you readers to tell me. Are you seeing this? Is the weather topsy-turvy, nutso, bat-shit, whack, freaky-deaky where you live? Leave your comments below.

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Life In Japan: Otsuka Museum of Art

Japan continues to dazzle and amaze me. This past weekend, Masumi took me to the Otsuka Museum of Art, and it was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen. It is located on Shikoku island and until recently was the largest art facility in Japan, 29,412 square meters (316,588 square feet).

This museum has extremely high-quality reproductions, a collection of all of the greatest paintings of the West. If they left one out, I don’t know what it is. It embraces a span of over two millennia, from Egyptian and Greek antiquities up through the modern art of the 20th Century. As the museum explains: “The museum houses over one thousand reproductions of treasured Western artworks specially selected by a six-member committee, from ancient frescoes to modern paintings in the collections of more than 190 galleries in 26 countries around the world.”

To capture the exact color of the originals, they use photographic imaging which is then transferred to ceramic panels. Any anomalies are expertly touched up by hand, the entire process guaranteeing faithfulness to the originals and permanence. These reproductions will stand up over time infinitely better than the original paintings themselves. They will retain their color and resolution for 2000 years.

The facility is so huge, to view all of the galleries, requires walking 4 kilometers (2 1/2 miles)! And get this. Every single painting is life-size. Yes . . . the exact size as the original.

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They even have a full-scale model of the Sistene Chapel. I’ve been in the Sistene Chapel in Vatican City and it was astonishing to see it replicated perfectly.

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By the way, the grounds — which includes the roof of the complex — are also quite stunning.

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In any case, here is just a tiny sampling of the 1000+ works of art on display.

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I was so overwhelmed by all of the Christian art, I dropped to my knees for the first time in over a half century.

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Life In Japan: Music Education

I continue to be amazed at the level of education here in Japan. While test scores are falling in the West, those here and in China continue to rise.

Most concern about academic performance focuses on math and reading ability, but since my wife, Masumi, is a music teacher, I get to take a close look at music education. Schools here consider music an important part of overall development, realization of full human potential. I’m always astonished at what Masumi gets her students to do, culminating in a concert each year, attended by proud parents. Though she teaches 2nd through 6th grade, the musical pieces the kids master are by any stretch not simple.

It starts as soon as the kids arrive at school. Kindergarten is two years here, for four and five year olds. The following videos are from a school in Tokyo. We’ll start with a performance by five-year-old Kindergarteners.

Pretty amazing, eh? If that didn’t blow your mind, here are FOUR-YEAR-OLD kindergarteners from the same school.

Finally, here are students at all levels, Kindergarten through 6th grade of the same elementary school, performing an excerpt from Beethoven’s 9th Symphony.

Kids love to be challenged. A big part of confidence and self-esteem comes from improvement and a real sense of accomplishment. I wonder if kids in the West are over-pampered and their egos shielded from the horrors of failure, at the expense of ever attempting and achieving excellence. Just a thought that occurs to me when I see what’s happening the public education in America.

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