Mountains!

The swell of Scafell Pike, the highest point in England at 978m.

 Anyone who knows me knows I love to walk.  I've been known to walk for multiple miles at a time, out of sheer boredom or time to burn.  And when I begin to plan something, that's when I'm a danger to myself.  In 2007, I mapped out a 100-mile hike around the UK's Lake District, over a span of 8 days.  The reason?  Absolutely nothing beyond needing something to do in my time off.

A ntaural progression from hiking is scaling mountains.  But the UK, while it has what you could technically call 'mountains', aren't really Mountains.  Even the highest point, Ben Nevis, is 1,344m above sea level - not to be sniffed at, for sure, but most other countries eat that kind of altitude for breakfast.  And while I am well aware there is some good rock climbing and scrambling to be had in the Lakes and Cairngorm and the like, that wasn't what I was after: I wanted some good, honest one-foot-in-front-of-the-other heights to scale, to feel that slow-burn sense of progress as the world shrinks away below you, until you look back down upon what you've achieved.  In that sense, living in the UK was a bit like being a pyromaniac in Atlantis.

Fast forward to Japan, though, and I suddenly felt like an over-sized fish in a goldfish bowl thrown into the ocean.  I'd always known that due to it's birth along a crossroads of tectonic lines, Japan was always going to be rockier than the UK's rolling green hills.  What shocked me was just how much rockier it was.

           The Chichibu mountains seen from Namegawa.

 There's a line of mountains visible from my town (seen above), for starters, each peak instantly taller than all but the highest points of the UK.  These form part of the Chichibu National Park.  On the very end is a prominent, pyramid-like peak called Kasayama (on the right in the photo, just to the right of the intruding phone-pole), which I resolved to conquer the very moment I saw it on my very first train journey.  When I eventually did in May 2010, it was a very humbling experience.  It was much, much taller and further away than I thought.  More than that, Kasayama is a comparatively gentle bump by comparison to what else Japan has on offer.

During the Golden Week of 2010 (a bunch of bank-holidays in the spring that effectively make a whole holiday), I went on a road-trip with some friends from Gunma to Kanazawa, and we crossed some beautiful country.  And those Mountains!  Jagged peaks pierced the skies, the powder-snow discernible from the clouds, torn like cotton woll across their moody faces.  It was awe-inspiring, and slightly scary, to look at them.  I'd never seen Mountains like that in my life, and new that my tepid beginnings in the UK had made me big-headed when it came to them.  There would definitely be a sense of achievement from atop these Mountains, but it would never be as simple as the step-by-step I'd grown used to.  They were at once forebidding at inviting, basically saying "Come and have a go if you think you've got the legs!"

Kamikochi, a prime mountain-climbing spot in Japan.

I've climbed some Mountains in Japan since then, but that's another story.  For now, I just wanted to share that sense of wonderment (and, I have to admit, fear) at what I was seeing far exceeding anything I'd imagined.  I've had many moments like that since I've come to Japan, but because of my love for hiking, this was one of the strongest, and will always stay with me.

The Medusa Stare

Oh boy.  I'll need to tread carefully on this one, as it's a subject that people can get, perhaps understandably, irate about, because it's quite contentious and not even I know what my own feelings are on this.  It's about staring.  But wait!  I'm not talking about the rampant stares you receive from the natives, but the stares from one's fellows minorities as a 'foreigner' in Japan.  In fact I don't even mean staring, but the polar-opposite: the anti-stare, something that I dub the Medusa Stare.

Let me explain what I mean.  Japan is a very homogenous country, with 98.5% of the population being native Japanese.  Even from that remaining 1.5% we still have some 2 million foreign nationals.  However, nearly two-thirds of these are of Asian appearance (ie. Chinese and Korean), and don't physically stand out.  Which is not to say they get an easier time of things - anything but - but that's a whole other blog post.

Those of a non-Asian appearance, however, do physically stick out, and the presence of a foreigner in even the most cosmopolitan areas is still unusual.  What's rarely appreciated, however, is that from our point of view it is also an unusual sight.  I'm not saying it's right, but I cannot help it if my eyes fall on the only other westerner on the train.  Likewise, it's perfectly fair if his or her eyes land on me.

Of course, it's natural to feel awkward if you accidentally make eye-contact.  Most people look shyly away at that point, and again that's a normal reaction - two strangers lock eyes and they quickly break the stare - it's not an ethnicity thing.  You just increase the chances of it by your comparatively unusual appearance.

That's fair enough.  What winds me up is the 'Medusa Stare': when someone forcefully keeps eye contact away from someone, even though it's obviously the only thing you're paying attention to.

Anyone else who has lived in Japan or even stayed on a long-ish holiday has surely experienced this.  Another foreigner passes you by, their gaze fixed pointedly in the middle distance as they march stiffly past you.  You can palpably feel the tension on them.  I'm no expert in body language but I know when someone isn't looking at you and when they're not looking at YOU.

 It shouldn't be a big deal, and in the grand scheme of things it isn't.  But it still winds me up the wrong way.  As I said, in Japan, you will be unusual to behold.  For some people, this is a real kick (even I have to admit getting a guilty buzz from it from time to time), but for a small handful of people, this superficial recognition is like some quick n' easy celebrity status, instead of real, earned popularity.  They relish the idea that they're special, of being The One that stands out from the crowd so effortlessly.  And, as another foreigner crossing their path, you ruin their fantasy.  You serve them a living, breathing reminder that their illusion of being so special is just that: an illusion.  So what do they do?  They blank you out completely, as if to say "Get out of my Japan, this is my special place, not yours."

I'm not saying all people who look determinedly away are like this.  Some people are just trying to be achingly polite, as if to say "Look, I'm not staring at you!  Your unusual appearance hasn't grabbed my attention at all!".  But some definitely are.

It's for this reason that I hate the Medusa Stare more than the actual stares from the Japanese.  The latter is just amazed at your existence, and the former wishes you didn't exist at all.

Ode to Okonomiyaki

There's no doubting that your diet changes when you move country. Since moving to Japan, I eat more fish, less sugar, WAY more rice, and tragically Yorkshire Puddings have disappeared altogether.

There are some discoveries, however, that you wonder how you ever did without. For me, okonomiyaki is one of them.

Okonomiyaki (お好み焼き) literally means 'cooked how you like it'. It's the Japanese equivalent of an omelette, only it's far more super-charged and awesome than that (no disrespect to omelette-lovers out there). The throw-whatever's-at-hand-in-it nature of the recipe makes it an extremely versalite dish with hundreds of variations, but the following is the classic Kansai style (seen above): flour, water and egg, added to cabbage and leek to form a chunky mush, fried in a pancake style, adding meat before you flip it over. It's all topped off with a sweet sauce, streaks of mayo, Katsuobushi (かつおぶし, fish shavings - it's tastier than it sounds, honest!) and peppered with aonori (tiny specks of seaweed).

Doesn't sound too special? Hold fire on your judgement until you've tried it, because Okonomiyaki is so much greater than the sum of it's parts. It's absolutely delicious, moreish and leaves you utterly satisfied. Better still, even though it looks and tastes like a belt-buster, it's quite good for you, what with the main bulk of it being vegetables.

I won't go into details of the recipe here (partly because of the flexible nature of it) but you can find a link to the classic recipe here.* I heartily recommend trying it out. It's a very simple dish to make and pays back your effort many times over. Don't be surprised if it makes it onto your regular dish list. It sure made mine!

*If you live outside Japan, you may struggle to find things like katsuoboshi and aonori, but to be honest they aren't essential. The Okonomiyaki sauce, however, is essential. But fret not, because you can make you own with ease! It's simply 3 parts tomato ketchup, 1 part soy sauce and 1 part Worcestershire sauce. Enjoy!

Pop Calling the Kettle Whack

I watched a fascinating program on TV last night.  It was literally entitled 'Japan vs China vs South Korea' and that's exactly what it was...well, kinda.  There's no love lost between this triangle of nations, and it could have been a real in-depth debate about the long-standing issues between the Asian giants.  Alas, it was a pretty toothless light entertainment show fronted by TV personalities representing each country (the Japan 'team were headed by loudmouth lard-monster cross-dresser Matsuko Deluxe (pictured above), and they dabbled in pretty pointless questions such as "Why is K-Pop so popular in Japan?' (incidentally, Matsuko's retort was that K-Pop is just a bad imitation of U.S. Pop.  Which could replace 'Pot Calling the Kettle Black' as the definition of towering hypocrisy.

But what riled me the most was the blatant passive-aggressive circle-jerking over Japan.  Okay, so it's a Japanese TV show, but it was so balls-out unfair and downright mean that I nearly choked on my Octopus Balls.

Example one: In a promotional-like video, the first thing Japan's segment showed was the awesome Sky Tree, now the second tallest building in the world.  Best foot forward, yes?  But then it proceeded to pull out a picture of the Canton Tower, and compare lengths, which the Sky Tree won by a mere 34 metres.  It was one step from the leaders of each team whipping out their own manhoods and seeing who could pee highest up the wall.

When China's own segment came up, what was the first thing it showed?  The Great Wall?  The Forbidden City?  The glittering skyscrapers of Shanghai?  Well actually, it was a crowd.  Just...a crowd.  And not a slick, sexy high-production value crowd.  A filmed-on a calculator shuddering mudfest of a crowd.  The Japan team and the studio audience proceeded to laugh.  It was possibly the most malicious, loaded laugh I've ever heard.  Clearly the China team had no say in putting their own case forward.  It's also the height of richness that the Japanese would dare slam China for it's apparent crowding when any given commute on a train can turn into a mobile sardine can of human flesh.

Example two: When the inter-team debate, such as it was, began in earnest, the host pulled out a special guest to voice their own opinion.  Was this an expert in Asian relations?  No she was a member of the Women's Japanese Soccer Team.  With all due respect to her, she was far from an expert and further still from being impartial.  It effectively gave the Japan 'team' an extra side to argue from.

You simply could not get away with this nauseating level of jingoism in the U.K. (Unless you're a writer for the Daily Mail).  It did nothing but show the Japanese up as being childish, unwilling to play fair and brain-numbingly hypocritical.

That all being said, it wasn't all bad.  As limp-wristed as the topics were ("Why doesn't Korea have many TV personalities" was one, as if this is a bad thing), there were some decent segments, especially the part following the lives of inter-asian couples living in the differing countries.  And, when all is said and done, Japan needs more probing, 'uncomfortable' debates like this.  Japan is a country that largely shys away from difficult questions and is super-sensitive to criticism (as the tubby in a one piece showed), so this is a step in the right direction.  True, questions like these were about as penetrating as a snow on steel, but it's a baby step in the right direction.

And finally, it was refreshing to see the Chinese team get the last (and best) word in: when they said that they have made many things the Japanese use everyday, the Japan team challenged them to name one.  The Chinese guy then proceeded to point to the Kanji (literally 'Chinese Characters') on each and every one of their name badges.  Like a boss.

You can watch the full show here (in Japanese).