Fun party at fellow show pony Ged's house a few weeks back. The short video I put together as a present is up on his website now.
You can download it here.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Whale Penis Adult Group Sex Party
If my site's going to be blocked for being “Adoruto,” I might as well give them something to block me for...
In their wisdom, the fascist IT goons in Kochi seem to have deemed all the tens of thousands of Blogspot sites around the world - including mine - “Adult” (and I thought those pony photos were so innocent...) Access seems blocked on all Kochi government computers - including of course my computer here at work. Hence the long gap between posts. But I will persevere in the face of repression and continue to upload from home.
Ok... so there was no adult group sex party (whatever the board of education may think about my site), but there was a party and there was a very large penis. At a farewell party for a teacher in Muroto last month, I whitnessed a new standard in culinary depravity when a plate of sautéed whale penis was served up, much to the delight of all the Japanese present. Concerns about eating an endangered species and dining on an animal that was probably older than me aside, there are just some parts of the body that I hope to never put in my mouth. Call me gutless. I didn’t partake.
Otherwise ghastly whale intestines pale into insignificance next to the half eaten phallus on the plate behind.
In their wisdom, the fascist IT goons in Kochi seem to have deemed all the tens of thousands of Blogspot sites around the world - including mine - “Adult” (and I thought those pony photos were so innocent...) Access seems blocked on all Kochi government computers - including of course my computer here at work. Hence the long gap between posts. But I will persevere in the face of repression and continue to upload from home.
Ok... so there was no adult group sex party (whatever the board of education may think about my site), but there was a party and there was a very large penis. At a farewell party for a teacher in Muroto last month, I whitnessed a new standard in culinary depravity when a plate of sautéed whale penis was served up, much to the delight of all the Japanese present. Concerns about eating an endangered species and dining on an animal that was probably older than me aside, there are just some parts of the body that I hope to never put in my mouth. Call me gutless. I didn’t partake.
Otherwise ghastly whale intestines pale into insignificance next to the half eaten phallus on the plate behind.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Ryoma and Snoopy
At one time there were four primary schools in Kitagawa-mura, each with its own thriving student population. Now there is one, and with around 75 students, Kitagawa Elementary is not huge (there are only five kids in the sixth grade).
But with the massive depopulation that's taken place in the Japanese country-side in the last 50 years or so, for this area, Kitagawa Primary is a big school. There are schools with ten, five, even two students. But the cake has definitely been taken by a school in the mountains near here: Narugawa Primary School has a grand total of one student... and one beagle.
I went there to translate and take some photos for my friend Stuart, a journalist (though teaching English to 10 year olds for now) who's writing an article on the school. As you drive into Narugawa, the most striking thing is the almost total lack of people. There are just rice fields, mountains and narrow empty roads. The little township has about 100 houses, but more than half of them are now vacant, and the average age of their inhabitants is around 75.
The primary school is made entirely of wood, and is actually the oldest in the whole prefecture. Until last year there were 3 students, two of them brothers. But when the brothers got fed up trying to play baseball with three people and switched to the bigger school down the road, Ryoma was left on his own.
The school still has a principal, one teacher, and an office lady. The disarmingly friendly principal seems to have become something of a surrogate father to little Ryoma, who is being raised by his 80 year old grandmother while his father works (and gambles) in Osaka. His biggest concern for Ryoma is that with all his playmates adults (even the Snoopy doll is 24 years old), he'll lack the social skills to interact with kids his own age, or to speak out if he runs into problems.
And it is with this in mind (and surprisingly not for economic reasons) that later this year Narugawa Primary is scheduled to suffer the same fate as so many other schools in the area and be closed. The principal will be transferred to another school and Ryoma will have to ride his bike down the valley to the (only slightly) bigger None Primary and try to make some new friends there.
No one really seems to know what will become of Snoopy.
Narugawa photos
But with the massive depopulation that's taken place in the Japanese country-side in the last 50 years or so, for this area, Kitagawa Primary is a big school. There are schools with ten, five, even two students. But the cake has definitely been taken by a school in the mountains near here: Narugawa Primary School has a grand total of one student... and one beagle.
I went there to translate and take some photos for my friend Stuart, a journalist (though teaching English to 10 year olds for now) who's writing an article on the school. As you drive into Narugawa, the most striking thing is the almost total lack of people. There are just rice fields, mountains and narrow empty roads. The little township has about 100 houses, but more than half of them are now vacant, and the average age of their inhabitants is around 75.
The primary school is made entirely of wood, and is actually the oldest in the whole prefecture. Until last year there were 3 students, two of them brothers. But when the brothers got fed up trying to play baseball with three people and switched to the bigger school down the road, Ryoma was left on his own.
The school still has a principal, one teacher, and an office lady. The disarmingly friendly principal seems to have become something of a surrogate father to little Ryoma, who is being raised by his 80 year old grandmother while his father works (and gambles) in Osaka. His biggest concern for Ryoma is that with all his playmates adults (even the Snoopy doll is 24 years old), he'll lack the social skills to interact with kids his own age, or to speak out if he runs into problems.
And it is with this in mind (and surprisingly not for economic reasons) that later this year Narugawa Primary is scheduled to suffer the same fate as so many other schools in the area and be closed. The principal will be transferred to another school and Ryoma will have to ride his bike down the valley to the (only slightly) bigger None Primary and try to make some new friends there.
No one really seems to know what will become of Snoopy.
Narugawa photos
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Naked Man Festival
Most Japanese festivals are a time of kiminos and elegance, a time to celebrate Japan's rich spiritual culture, to connect with her ancient traditions (whether anyone can remember what they mean or not) and to relax with family members.
The Hadaka-matsuri is not one of those festivals.
For there is another more primal purpose behind many Japanese Festivals, namely that of wall to wall drunken abandon (albeit precisely defined and well choreographed) - to let loose with some ancient and ill-conceived maddness that would be otherwise unthinkable in the sober light of all-too-sensible non-festival Japan.
Last September was the Fire Festival in western Kochi, where a group of drunk men (plus sober me) carried a huge burning tree through the middle of the town, getting showered with red hot ashes all the way, and groups of even drunker men ran around with big drums starting fights with other groups of drunk men with big drums. No one really seems to know why, but they've been doing it for a hell of a long time.(Kure-matsuri photos here)
Last weekend was the Naked Man Festival (Hadaka-matsuri) in Okayama.
Even if the thought of thousands of all-but-naked men packed together like sumo-sardines and fighting over sticks did it for me (and alas it doesn't), the Hadaka-matsuri still wouldn't quite be the homo-erotic wet-dream it sounds like. But though it may not be kinky (or then, maybe it was...), the controlled chaos, the mass drunkeness and the apparent lack of reason, certainly all made for a quintessentially Japanese event.
It's done in the middle of winter in the middle of the night (that Japanese obsession with the cold again), and the thousands of participants (unfortunately all men) are clad only in fundoshi (the sumo-style nappy), and tabi (traditional Japanese socks). Contestants first run through an icy pond with a statue of Kanon in the middle,
then gradually assemble around the main temple, the sea of pink flesh surging in waves and occasionally breaking on the stairs in a torrent of naked bodies. Every now and then a line of police would charge in to try and contain the crowd or to carry an unconcious body from the fray.
At midnight, the monks throw 2 sticks into the mob and a million yen prize is given to whoever can get one of them out through the temple gates. But despite the thousands of punters, rumour has it that the yakuza team wins every year. I was too caught up in the madness to even notice.
Amazing though this mother-of-all-mosh-pits was, I can't say I regreted my decision to keep my clothes on. A few of my foreign friends did take part though and charged in balls-n-all, and while I've got nothin' but respect for them, hey... someone's gotta take the photos.
Naked Man photos
Just hanging out now for the ancient Giant Steel Phallus Festival coming up in April. Japan's got so much to offer!
The Hadaka-matsuri is not one of those festivals.
For there is another more primal purpose behind many Japanese Festivals, namely that of wall to wall drunken abandon (albeit precisely defined and well choreographed) - to let loose with some ancient and ill-conceived maddness that would be otherwise unthinkable in the sober light of all-too-sensible non-festival Japan.
Last September was the Fire Festival in western Kochi, where a group of drunk men (plus sober me) carried a huge burning tree through the middle of the town, getting showered with red hot ashes all the way, and groups of even drunker men ran around with big drums starting fights with other groups of drunk men with big drums. No one really seems to know why, but they've been doing it for a hell of a long time.(Kure-matsuri photos here)
Last weekend was the Naked Man Festival (Hadaka-matsuri) in Okayama.
Even if the thought of thousands of all-but-naked men packed together like sumo-sardines and fighting over sticks did it for me (and alas it doesn't), the Hadaka-matsuri still wouldn't quite be the homo-erotic wet-dream it sounds like. But though it may not be kinky (or then, maybe it was...), the controlled chaos, the mass drunkeness and the apparent lack of reason, certainly all made for a quintessentially Japanese event.
It's done in the middle of winter in the middle of the night (that Japanese obsession with the cold again), and the thousands of participants (unfortunately all men) are clad only in fundoshi (the sumo-style nappy), and tabi (traditional Japanese socks). Contestants first run through an icy pond with a statue of Kanon in the middle,
then gradually assemble around the main temple, the sea of pink flesh surging in waves and occasionally breaking on the stairs in a torrent of naked bodies. Every now and then a line of police would charge in to try and contain the crowd or to carry an unconcious body from the fray.
At midnight, the monks throw 2 sticks into the mob and a million yen prize is given to whoever can get one of them out through the temple gates. But despite the thousands of punters, rumour has it that the yakuza team wins every year. I was too caught up in the madness to even notice.
Amazing though this mother-of-all-mosh-pits was, I can't say I regreted my decision to keep my clothes on. A few of my foreign friends did take part though and charged in balls-n-all, and while I've got nothin' but respect for them, hey... someone's gotta take the photos.
Naked Man photos
Just hanging out now for the ancient Giant Steel Phallus Festival coming up in April. Japan's got so much to offer!
Friday, February 25, 2005
Weirdoz
The following is the rough translation of an article I wrote about Australia for the Kitagawa village newsletter. It was written partly in homage to an old Japanese TV show that was one of my favourites (infact probably the only one I ever watched!) - ここが変だよ!日本人! (This is Strange! You Japanese!).
This is Strange! You Australians!
When English zoologists first got their hands on a platypus back in the 19th century, they assumed that the Australians were playing a joke on them, sticking a duck's bill on the body of a rat. With its duck's bill, rat's body, beaver's tail, webbed feet, poison spurs, and eggs, the platypus is certainly one of the strangest creatures on the planet. But strange as Australia's animals might be, it soon became all too apparent that the human inhabitants down-under were often equally odd.
Unimpressed with the conventional Europe-at-the-top, Australia-at-the-bottom world map, the “Upside-Down World Map” was created. But in many ways, Australian culture and it's values can be as upside down it's maps.
Australian national pride has a lot more to do with losing (well if possible) or to sticking it up the authorities than with great victories or noble leaders, and to an Australian ear obscenities like "Bastard," "Bloody drongo" or "Get a dog up ya!" are more endearing than words of praise or admiration.
Achievements in the academic and economic fields are often overlooked or even scorned, but stories of a poor outlaw or a horse with a big heart inspire a great sense of patriotism. Surveys have shown that few Australians know the name of their first Prime Minister (he was a bit of a bigot, so it’s probably better that way), and almost none the name of their current Attorney General, but farmers who fight a losing battle against a land that doesn't seem to want them are given the highest respect. Great Australian victories in battle go largely unsung, while on Anzac Day we commemorate the battle of Gallipoli, our most crushing defeat. Few Australians can sing their national anthem through to the second verse, but a song about a homeless sheep-thief who drowns himself rather than submit to the authorities touches people's hearts. Australia is one of the most urbanised countries in the world, and her cities some of the most beautiful, yet Australian identity is inescapably tied to the harsh and unforgiving outback.
Stranger still are stories about Australia's Prime Ministers: Her elected representatives in the political arena, they also seem to have the uncanny knack of becoming representative of Australia's stranger and wilder side. Seventies Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser, though a strong and spirited politician, will probably be remembered more for an episode in Memphis, USA, where he stumbled into the crowded lobby of a hotel, sans-pants. Eighties Prime Minister Bob Hawke once drank 2.5 pints of beer in 11 seconds, earning himself a place in the record books as the both the fastest beer drinker in the world, and the most popular Prime Minister in Australian history. Nineties Prime Minster Paul Keating, famous for his biting insults and sharp wit, was once accused of groping the Queen. In reply he said, “I like the Queen... and I think she likes me too!” Australia also managed to lose one of its Prime Ministers (oops!), when Harold Holt went for a swim at the beach one day and never came back. No body was found and no national inquiry held, but the popular Melbourne public pool “Harold Holt Memorial Swimming Centre” was named in memory of the tragic event!
But weird stories and strange patriotism aside, and despite having personally chosen to live away from her fair shores for the better part of 6 years, I do still buy into the standard Australian propaganda that claims us the title of 'The Lucky Country'. Australia has some of the most beautiful natural scenery, highest quality of life, best beaches and keenest senses of irony in the world... and the people are mostly pretty friendly too (hey, Pauline Hanson's in prison now!).
Visit if you get the chance, but don’t forget to “Get a dog up ya!”
This is Strange! You Australians!
When English zoologists first got their hands on a platypus back in the 19th century, they assumed that the Australians were playing a joke on them, sticking a duck's bill on the body of a rat. With its duck's bill, rat's body, beaver's tail, webbed feet, poison spurs, and eggs, the platypus is certainly one of the strangest creatures on the planet. But strange as Australia's animals might be, it soon became all too apparent that the human inhabitants down-under were often equally odd.
Unimpressed with the conventional Europe-at-the-top, Australia-at-the-bottom world map, the “Upside-Down World Map” was created. But in many ways, Australian culture and it's values can be as upside down it's maps.
Australian national pride has a lot more to do with losing (well if possible) or to sticking it up the authorities than with great victories or noble leaders, and to an Australian ear obscenities like "Bastard," "Bloody drongo" or "Get a dog up ya!" are more endearing than words of praise or admiration.
Achievements in the academic and economic fields are often overlooked or even scorned, but stories of a poor outlaw or a horse with a big heart inspire a great sense of patriotism. Surveys have shown that few Australians know the name of their first Prime Minister (he was a bit of a bigot, so it’s probably better that way), and almost none the name of their current Attorney General, but farmers who fight a losing battle against a land that doesn't seem to want them are given the highest respect. Great Australian victories in battle go largely unsung, while on Anzac Day we commemorate the battle of Gallipoli, our most crushing defeat. Few Australians can sing their national anthem through to the second verse, but a song about a homeless sheep-thief who drowns himself rather than submit to the authorities touches people's hearts. Australia is one of the most urbanised countries in the world, and her cities some of the most beautiful, yet Australian identity is inescapably tied to the harsh and unforgiving outback.
Stranger still are stories about Australia's Prime Ministers: Her elected representatives in the political arena, they also seem to have the uncanny knack of becoming representative of Australia's stranger and wilder side. Seventies Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser, though a strong and spirited politician, will probably be remembered more for an episode in Memphis, USA, where he stumbled into the crowded lobby of a hotel, sans-pants. Eighties Prime Minister Bob Hawke once drank 2.5 pints of beer in 11 seconds, earning himself a place in the record books as the both the fastest beer drinker in the world, and the most popular Prime Minister in Australian history. Nineties Prime Minster Paul Keating, famous for his biting insults and sharp wit, was once accused of groping the Queen. In reply he said, “I like the Queen... and I think she likes me too!” Australia also managed to lose one of its Prime Ministers (oops!), when Harold Holt went for a swim at the beach one day and never came back. No body was found and no national inquiry held, but the popular Melbourne public pool “Harold Holt Memorial Swimming Centre” was named in memory of the tragic event!
But weird stories and strange patriotism aside, and despite having personally chosen to live away from her fair shores for the better part of 6 years, I do still buy into the standard Australian propaganda that claims us the title of 'The Lucky Country'. Australia has some of the most beautiful natural scenery, highest quality of life, best beaches and keenest senses of irony in the world... and the people are mostly pretty friendly too (hey, Pauline Hanson's in prison now!).
Visit if you get the chance, but don’t forget to “Get a dog up ya!”
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Tropical Escape
I spent a winter in Toronto once, but even though the temperature rarely got above zero, the centrally heated houses made it a cozy 2 months. Seoul can bitter in the winter too, but Korean houses all have in-floor heating (on-dul) which is hot enough to dry a load of laundry overnight.
Japan on the other hand seems possessed of a perverse obsession with the cold. Despite being one of the wealthiest countries in the world, none of the schools have heating, and houses seem somehow cunningly designed to actually trap the cold inside (except in summer when they seem to trap the heat), and none more so than my monstrous impossible-to-heat 8-bedroom ex-dormitory of a house. When the cold gets too much, I usually step outside for a walk, where it is invariably a few degrees warmer.
Fed up with shivering, cold classrooms and kerosene fumes, I decided to head south to warmer climes - Malaysia for a five day tropical escape in lovely Langkawi.
It was hard to come back.
Langkawi Photos
Japan on the other hand seems possessed of a perverse obsession with the cold. Despite being one of the wealthiest countries in the world, none of the schools have heating, and houses seem somehow cunningly designed to actually trap the cold inside (except in summer when they seem to trap the heat), and none more so than my monstrous impossible-to-heat 8-bedroom ex-dormitory of a house. When the cold gets too much, I usually step outside for a walk, where it is invariably a few degrees warmer.
Fed up with shivering, cold classrooms and kerosene fumes, I decided to head south to warmer climes - Malaysia for a five day tropical escape in lovely Langkawi.
It was hard to come back.
Langkawi Photos
Monday, February 07, 2005
Babel Fish
The young couple where you have gotten married exactly was in the continuation of newly-married travelling of the wedding night. That they took clothing because of the bed, simultaneously, the husband who is the largely powerful person puts that pants and was said the throwing which is, "in here in that bride these. "
Put in place she those, the west two degrees in size in her body was. "As for me unless it can learn your pants," she said.
"The right! ! "Is, it was the husband," you forget that or. As for me this family pants ! "
That it is the person who has been attached to the body she him repels her panty, is said," try these. "Tries he those, can find and those cannot get near to only that kneecap.
He called to your panty, "the hell, me it is not possible to enter,!
"Is she the right, as for that you are ugly the attitude where! "Until it changes, being the method of doing a certain thing," saying
Have you ever wondered what would happen if you plugged some English into some translating software, translated it into Japanese then translated right it back into English? This is it, courtesy of AltVista's Babel Fish (try it yourself).
Some people have said that before long, technology will eliminate the need for human translators and for language teaching.
I don't think I'm quite out of a job yet...
ps. The passage was a joke. Just in case you didn't get it, here's the original:
A young couple, just married, were in their honeymoon suite on their wedding night.
As they undressed for bed, the husband, who was a big burly man, tossed his pants to his bride and said, "here put these on."
She put them on, and the waist was twice the size of her body. "I can't wear your pants," she said.
"That's right!!", said the husband, "and don't you forget it. I'm the man who wears the pants in this family!"
With that she flipped him her panties and said, "try these on." He tried them on and found he could only get them on as far as his kneecap.
He said, "Hell, I can't get into your panties!"
She said, "That's right, and that's the way it's going to be until your damn attitude changes!"
Put in place she those, the west two degrees in size in her body was. "As for me unless it can learn your pants," she said.
"The right! ! "Is, it was the husband," you forget that or. As for me this family pants ! "
That it is the person who has been attached to the body she him repels her panty, is said," try these. "Tries he those, can find and those cannot get near to only that kneecap.
He called to your panty, "the hell, me it is not possible to enter,!
"Is she the right, as for that you are ugly the attitude where! "Until it changes, being the method of doing a certain thing," saying
Have you ever wondered what would happen if you plugged some English into some translating software, translated it into Japanese then translated right it back into English? This is it, courtesy of AltVista's Babel Fish (try it yourself).
Some people have said that before long, technology will eliminate the need for human translators and for language teaching.
I don't think I'm quite out of a job yet...
ps. The passage was a joke. Just in case you didn't get it, here's the original:
A young couple, just married, were in their honeymoon suite on their wedding night.
As they undressed for bed, the husband, who was a big burly man, tossed his pants to his bride and said, "here put these on."
She put them on, and the waist was twice the size of her body. "I can't wear your pants," she said.
"That's right!!", said the husband, "and don't you forget it. I'm the man who wears the pants in this family!"
With that she flipped him her panties and said, "try these on." He tried them on and found he could only get them on as far as his kneecap.
He said, "Hell, I can't get into your panties!"
She said, "That's right, and that's the way it's going to be until your damn attitude changes!"
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Earthquake Man
Discussions about earthquakes in Kochi-prefecture rarely have room for conditionals. Statements like "IF there were a big earthquake," "IF your house should fall down," or "IF a tsunami came," are replaced by "WHEN the big earthquake hits and your house falls down, head for the hills because the tsunamis ARE on their way!"
Results of the last big earthquake in Kochi, 1946
So certain is a big earthquake in the region that it already has a name. It's called the Nankai Earthquake, and its magnitude will be around 8.4 (compared to 7.3 for the Kobe earthquake). Muroto - just down the road - can expect tsunamis of about 12 metres (compared to the 5 metre waves that devastated the coastlines of Thailand, Sri Lanka and India in December). My house should be safe from tsunamis (I think...), but when the dams burst upstream, there will be tsunamis from both directions. Not an entirely pleasant thought.
The Nankai earthquake strikes about once every 100 years, and given that the last big quake was only 59 years ago, the chance of it going off in the next year or two is tolerably slim (10% chance in the next 10 years). But stretch that timeline out to 50 years and the odds rise to about 80%. It's scary to think that all of my Japanese friends here in Kochi will more than likely experience it in their lifetimes. My supervisor seems to live in fear of it, mumbling how he wishes he lived in Australia. I tell him we may not have earthquakes, but that we do have bushfires. But we both know it's not the same thing, and that Japan's deep-seated fear of earthquakes is not without good reason.
Photo of modern Kochi and the same photo taken right after the 1946 quake knocked down the city then swallowed it up with tsunamis (click for bigger size).
But as Japanese as the fear of earthquakes and tsunamis may be, even more quintessentially 'Japanese' is the act of turning them into cute cartoon characters. Kochi-born cartoonist Takashi Yanase, creator of the now legendary Anpanman - the superhero who feeds hungry kids with his red-bean bread head (I went to his museum last year - a couple of photos here) - has done the impossible. He succeded in making even the horror of natural disasters cute.
The heroes are 'Countermeasure-boy' (top-right) 'Help-girl' (next to him) 'Guidance-guy' (bottom-right) and the Proff. But cute as the heroes may be, it's mean old 'Earthquake-man' (top-right) and his sidekick 'Tsunami-man' (bottom-left) that steal the show.
Those are two cartoon-characters I never want to meet!
Results of the last big earthquake in Kochi, 1946
So certain is a big earthquake in the region that it already has a name. It's called the Nankai Earthquake, and its magnitude will be around 8.4 (compared to 7.3 for the Kobe earthquake). Muroto - just down the road - can expect tsunamis of about 12 metres (compared to the 5 metre waves that devastated the coastlines of Thailand, Sri Lanka and India in December). My house should be safe from tsunamis (I think...), but when the dams burst upstream, there will be tsunamis from both directions. Not an entirely pleasant thought.
The Nankai earthquake strikes about once every 100 years, and given that the last big quake was only 59 years ago, the chance of it going off in the next year or two is tolerably slim (10% chance in the next 10 years). But stretch that timeline out to 50 years and the odds rise to about 80%. It's scary to think that all of my Japanese friends here in Kochi will more than likely experience it in their lifetimes. My supervisor seems to live in fear of it, mumbling how he wishes he lived in Australia. I tell him we may not have earthquakes, but that we do have bushfires. But we both know it's not the same thing, and that Japan's deep-seated fear of earthquakes is not without good reason.
Photo of modern Kochi and the same photo taken right after the 1946 quake knocked down the city then swallowed it up with tsunamis (click for bigger size).
But as Japanese as the fear of earthquakes and tsunamis may be, even more quintessentially 'Japanese' is the act of turning them into cute cartoon characters. Kochi-born cartoonist Takashi Yanase, creator of the now legendary Anpanman - the superhero who feeds hungry kids with his red-bean bread head (I went to his museum last year - a couple of photos here) - has done the impossible. He succeded in making even the horror of natural disasters cute.
The heroes are 'Countermeasure-boy' (top-right) 'Help-girl' (next to him) 'Guidance-guy' (bottom-right) and the Proff. But cute as the heroes may be, it's mean old 'Earthquake-man' (top-right) and his sidekick 'Tsunami-man' (bottom-left) that steal the show.
Those are two cartoon-characters I never want to meet!
Monday, January 10, 2005
Singapore Stopover
"People are too busy to appreciate their lives these days," declared the elderly Chinese gentleman in his perfect Queen's English, his even older and rather stately-looking Indian friend nodding in agreement on his wooden crate in the midst of one of the city's swarming shopping arcades.
But busy and multi-cultural as it is, Singapore must also be one of the easiest cities in the world to visit. There is Little India, which has the colour and curries of India, without the hassle of hawkers, open-sewers and beggars. There's the Chinese quarter (although these days it should really be the Chinese three-quarters), which has the food, temples and markets of China without the communist overtones or the communication barriers (I never did really get used to a whole nation of Asians all speaking near-perfect English, even among themselves).
And the city is clean! Cleaner even than Japan. In fact, cleanliness seems to be a national obsession, with hard-core legislation to back it up. Forget to flush the toilet and you're looking at a minimum $150 fine! Spit and you’re looking at at least $1000! Don't even think about chewing gum - you can't even buy it.
The subways are not only surgically clean and efficient, they also espouse philosophy: "Our life is frittered away by detail... Simplify, simplify, simplify!" was the Thoreau quote that greeted me on the electronic announcement boards of Little India Station on my first day in Singapore.
And if efficent subways aren't enough, the people also seem outrageously friendly. In Japan, though kind to a fault, people are rarely accused of being outgoing and chatty. In India, though outgoing and chatty to a fault, people are rarely without something to sell. Singaporeans seem to strike a happy balance between the two extremes: chatty and approachable without treating you like a walking wallet.
Indeed the city is so easy-to-use and purpose-built that the friend I was travelling with was prompted to call it the Esperanto of cities. And although not entirely without its own grit and charm, you can't help feel that Singapore is almost unnaturally neat and user-friendly, certainly lacking the raw earthiness of somewhere like Thailand.
Resting on a bench in the shade of a multi-national corporate skyscraper and gazing admiringly at the statue of modern Singaopore's founder, Sir Stamford Raffles surrounded by multi-coloured lions, it's easy to forget that Singapore, with its foreign-friendly tourist industry and chatty people, is a nation under an authoritarian regimen. Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot and Kim Il Sung have given dictatorships a bad name in this last century, but with it's green manicured gardens, smooth-flowing traffic, and crime and drug- (not to mention litter-) free streets, Lee Kuan Yew's vision of utopia does make one stop and think twice. And although perhaps big brother with his censorship and limits on freedom of speech (however subtle) would eventually drive me away, in the short and albeit superficial three days I spent there, I found myself quite fond of this buzzing little metropolis.
And contrary to popular opinion, three days was not enough.
Singapore photos
But busy and multi-cultural as it is, Singapore must also be one of the easiest cities in the world to visit. There is Little India, which has the colour and curries of India, without the hassle of hawkers, open-sewers and beggars. There's the Chinese quarter (although these days it should really be the Chinese three-quarters), which has the food, temples and markets of China without the communist overtones or the communication barriers (I never did really get used to a whole nation of Asians all speaking near-perfect English, even among themselves).
And the city is clean! Cleaner even than Japan. In fact, cleanliness seems to be a national obsession, with hard-core legislation to back it up. Forget to flush the toilet and you're looking at a minimum $150 fine! Spit and you’re looking at at least $1000! Don't even think about chewing gum - you can't even buy it.
The subways are not only surgically clean and efficient, they also espouse philosophy: "Our life is frittered away by detail... Simplify, simplify, simplify!" was the Thoreau quote that greeted me on the electronic announcement boards of Little India Station on my first day in Singapore.
And if efficent subways aren't enough, the people also seem outrageously friendly. In Japan, though kind to a fault, people are rarely accused of being outgoing and chatty. In India, though outgoing and chatty to a fault, people are rarely without something to sell. Singaporeans seem to strike a happy balance between the two extremes: chatty and approachable without treating you like a walking wallet.
Indeed the city is so easy-to-use and purpose-built that the friend I was travelling with was prompted to call it the Esperanto of cities. And although not entirely without its own grit and charm, you can't help feel that Singapore is almost unnaturally neat and user-friendly, certainly lacking the raw earthiness of somewhere like Thailand.
Resting on a bench in the shade of a multi-national corporate skyscraper and gazing admiringly at the statue of modern Singaopore's founder, Sir Stamford Raffles surrounded by multi-coloured lions, it's easy to forget that Singapore, with its foreign-friendly tourist industry and chatty people, is a nation under an authoritarian regimen. Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot and Kim Il Sung have given dictatorships a bad name in this last century, but with it's green manicured gardens, smooth-flowing traffic, and crime and drug- (not to mention litter-) free streets, Lee Kuan Yew's vision of utopia does make one stop and think twice. And although perhaps big brother with his censorship and limits on freedom of speech (however subtle) would eventually drive me away, in the short and albeit superficial three days I spent there, I found myself quite fond of this buzzing little metropolis.
And contrary to popular opinion, three days was not enough.
Singapore photos
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Just a Little Country Boy
The neons are brighter, the subways busier, the high-school girls' miniskirts shorter, and the giant buddha bar restaurants more giant than anywhere in the world. Tokyo is certainly an amazing place. Everywhere and everyone is so young and fashionable that Derek Zoolander would look like a bum, and the whole city is so wired that I felt like prescribing it Ritalin.
It was like a giant candy store for this little rice-paddy country boy from Kochi. In my three days in the capital, I climbed a skyscraper in Roppongi, caught up with friends in Takadanobaba, ate shabushabu in Harajuku, saw some live rock in Shibuya, hung out with a band in Shinjuku, Christmas shopped in Ikebukuro, and got lost in Tokyo Station. It was hard to whipe that bucolic awe-struck look off my face. In Kitagawa the most happening place is the Retirement Centre and dressing up means wearing something other than slippers. Tokyo was all a bit overwhelming. My supervisor had warned me. He was kind enough to drive me to the airport for my 'business trip,' and he told me he thought I was brave going to Tokyo alone. He'd been there once - about 16 years ago, got lost and never wants to go back.
It is an easy city to feel lost in! Estimates put the population of greater Tokyo at around 34 million. That's about 1.6 times the population of the whole of Australia, and 22,065 times that of Kitagawa! And that mass of humanity is not idle. Central Tokyo is said to have about 80,000 restaurants (compared to London's 6,000 and Kitagwa's one), and no one's ever even tried to count the bars. Single train stations in Tokyo are bigger than whole cities in some countries. It took me more than half an hour to just walk between lines at Tokyo Station (and that's when I didn't get lost), and Tokyo Station is by no means to biggest. Shinjuku Station is the busiest in the world, with about 3 million passengers passing through its gates each day.
Back home in the rice-paddies again now. Kitagawa doesn't have a train station. It does have a bus. The bus comes twice a day. It's empty most of the time.
Phew... It's good to be back...
click to Tokyo photo gallery
It was like a giant candy store for this little rice-paddy country boy from Kochi. In my three days in the capital, I climbed a skyscraper in Roppongi, caught up with friends in Takadanobaba, ate shabushabu in Harajuku, saw some live rock in Shibuya, hung out with a band in Shinjuku, Christmas shopped in Ikebukuro, and got lost in Tokyo Station. It was hard to whipe that bucolic awe-struck look off my face. In Kitagawa the most happening place is the Retirement Centre and dressing up means wearing something other than slippers. Tokyo was all a bit overwhelming. My supervisor had warned me. He was kind enough to drive me to the airport for my 'business trip,' and he told me he thought I was brave going to Tokyo alone. He'd been there once - about 16 years ago, got lost and never wants to go back.
It is an easy city to feel lost in! Estimates put the population of greater Tokyo at around 34 million. That's about 1.6 times the population of the whole of Australia, and 22,065 times that of Kitagawa! And that mass of humanity is not idle. Central Tokyo is said to have about 80,000 restaurants (compared to London's 6,000 and Kitagwa's one), and no one's ever even tried to count the bars. Single train stations in Tokyo are bigger than whole cities in some countries. It took me more than half an hour to just walk between lines at Tokyo Station (and that's when I didn't get lost), and Tokyo Station is by no means to biggest. Shinjuku Station is the busiest in the world, with about 3 million passengers passing through its gates each day.
Back home in the rice-paddies again now. Kitagawa doesn't have a train station. It does have a bus. The bus comes twice a day. It's empty most of the time.
Phew... It's good to be back...
click to Tokyo photo gallery
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