Let's get wet!

Communal bathing in Japan

For most people in Japan, a quick shower is often just not good enough.  Gotta have a long, hot soak in a deep tub up to the neck.  This is pretty much the rule in Japan, where people have been enthusiastic bathers for many centuries.  In the early days, only the elite could actually afford bathing facilities, so public baths became well established.  Early on, the system was: wash thoroughly outside the tub, then enter the communal tub for soaking, warming and relaxing. 

I like getting clean as much as anyone else, but the idea of soaking with strangers doesn't appeal to most Americans.  When I first came to Japan, so many years ago, I rented a tiny room with no bath, so I had to make a daily trip to the local sento--public bath.  The first night I arrived, I was so tired, I just went right to bed.  The next day, I was ready to get clean, but going to the sento for the first time was pretty daunting.  A French guy living across the hall offered to go and show me the ropes.  

The first task is to choose the right entrance, for men or women.  Usually, these are notated with kanji--and I was completely at a loss.  However, Daniel showed me which one was the men's.  Before entering, you remove your shoes and put them in a shoe locker.  The building was a traditional one, with a high coffered ceiling.  This space was divided by a wall that was well over head height, although it did not go all the way to the ceiling.  There was an elevated desk, kind of like a pulpit, near the doorways, where one person could keep an eye on both the women's and men's areas.  This is also where you pay the entrance fee.  I was surprised to find a woman on duty there.  In the locker area, there was a block of lockers about chest height, so I was able to hide behind them while I took off my clothes.  Large sliding glass doors led into the bath area.  

As baths go, it was very nice.  The soaking tub was very large, the width of the room, with a contoured front.  Sentos are known for large murals on the back wall, above the soaking tub--this one had a view of Mt. Fuji, a very common subject for bath houses.  And, this establishment had large rocks/boulders worked into the tub, so you could lean against a warm rock to relax.  

But first, get clean.  There were rows of shower heads, but at waist height, intended to be used while sitting.  There were tiny stools and buckets.  Soap and shampoo were the bather's responsibility, although such supplies, as well as razors, pumice stones, washcloths and towels were on sale.  The shower rows also had mirrors, so you could shave sitting down under the shower.  So, I got all clean and headed for the tub.  

There is one bathing custom Daniel didn't tell me about.  Most Japanese people take a small towel, about the size of a US dish towel, into the bathing area.  It is used for washing, and then strategically deployed to the most crucial area(s) for modesty when moving around.  I didn't have such a towel with me, but I figured it was like the locker room in high school.  Only wusses worried about such things!  Okay, ready for the hot bath!

But it was really, really hot!  I noticed there was a thermometer on the wall that said 42 degrees C.  (Fahrenheiters, do the calculation!)  Anyway, hot enough to induce a strong blush to the skin.  So, I was sitting on the thick edge of the tub, legs in the hot water, facing the thermometer and looking up at the mural of Mt. Fuji.  I noticed a sliding door next to the thermometer, and I noticed it was sliding open.  There was the woman from the entrance desk!!  She pretended to be checking the temperature, but she took a certain amount of time directing her gaze to the thermometer, giving her plenty of time to check me out!  Well, a lot of Japanese are curious about such things, it's true.  I probably did not live up to her stereotype of westerners...sigh.  But I had my first experience of relaxed Japanese attitudes toward nudity--sometimes there is some mixing of the sexes, in varying degrees.  More about that later!

The photo shows a traditional style bath house--you may be able to see the craftsmanship in the construction.  This is called Akebono no Yu in the Asakusa area.  A cold drink from the machine is very refreshing after a hot dip.  This place is also notable for the extensive planting--is it wistaria?

Also, check here for photos of a typical bath house interior, complete with Mt Fuji on the back wall--in tile instead of paint.  You can also see the sit-down shower heads, each with its own mirror.  

http://onsensoaker.blogspot.jp/2011/06/jakotsuyu-asakusa-downtown-tokyo.html

This blog has good info on hot springs and sentos, even some about overseas destinations!  

Let's get wet! part 2

Bathing as leisure

Japanese onsen (hot springs) are becoming well known outside of Japan.  There are lots of hot springs, because the Japanese archipelago is situated in an area of high volcanic activity.  It is said that you can find a source of hot spring water just about anywhere, if you drill deep enough.  In the old days, it is said that people would follow wounded animals, who were able to find natural hot springs which could help heal their injuries.  Later, more hot spring resorts were opened up as drilling technology developed, and resorts began to attract leisure travellers.  

My first hot spring experience was deep in the woods.  I had not been in Japan too long, but one of my new friends suggested going on a trip.  He was not too specific about where we were going.  I had an international driver's license (these are only good for one year, so I had not been in Japan very long at that point), so my friend said, 'We can go to my brother's place in Tochigi prefecture, and borrow his car to go on a trip!'  In the US, a driver's license is considered a birthright, almost, but in Japan, they are considerably more difficult to get (usually they require maybe 30 hours (?) of class and a big fee for the test as well, and almost no one passes the first time).  So I agreed to this plan.  The car was fairly heavy, with no power steering, stick shift, and I was not used to driving on the left, so it was a bit difficult.  Then, we headed into the mountains and started driving upriver in a narrow valley.  The road was curvy and narrow.  Meeting a car coming in the opposite directions usually required some maneuvering.  No guard rails, and I think I remember rolling down the window to look our and make sure I wouldn't drop a wheel over the edge.  Anyway, some hours passed in this way, with no help on the driving (other than navigating).  At a clearing in the woods, there was a parking lot.  My friend said 'We have to park here and walk about two hours in the woods.'  I still didn't really know where we were headed, but there was no turning back.  The walk was very peaceful, in a forest dominated by maple trees that were reaching the peak of autumnal redness.  Finally, we arrived at a very simple wooden inn in the woods.  The rooms were Japanese style, with tatami mats, and they were fairly dark because the electricity generators would not be turned on until sunset.  Also, no TV, no telephone.  The only entertainment was a 'go' board in the room.  But behind the building, in the maple forest, was a hot bath with steam curling among the branches.  After my tiring drive and walk, this seemed like heaven.  That night, it began to snow, so we enjoyed the hot bath in a snowfall.  The next day, the forest had changed from red to white.  This inn was called Kaniyu, part of the Oku-Kinugawa resort area.  I later found out that in some cases, they will offer guests a lift to the parking area--there is a road for bringing in supplies, etc., but no parking lot.  The meals were very simple, and for an extra fee, fresh tempura made with local mushrooms was available.  Also, there was no heat, but a kerosene space heater could be rented.   The outdoor bath was gender-mixed, but there were no other guests in the place that day.  There were also gender-segregated baths inside.  

Since that time, the area has been more completely developed.  The Kaniyu inn is now a four-story concrete building, with more extensive outdoor soaking facilities.  I haven't been there for many years, but apparently many guests still make the long walk through the woods as part of the experience.  

I was reminded of this experience when I found this haiku by Masaoka Shiki:　  

山の湯や裸の上に天の川　'At a hot spring in the mountains, above the naked bathers, the Milky Way' (translation by me!) 

 I remember the steam rising into the night sky, and how it would seem to blend right into the Milky Way (although it was not clear enough to see it that night).  I like the shift of scale from the hot bath under your chin, up to the glowing galactic expanse. 

The photo at the top shows a public hot spring (no inn) in Nagano prefecture.

Revisiting high school Beethoven

Ah! The mistakes of youth!

I have recently gone back to work on a Beethoven piano sonata that I first studied in high school.  It is no. 19, op. 49 no. 1 in g minor.  I dug out the old score that I used at that time, published by G. Schirmer, edited by Hans von Bülow and Sigmund Lebert.  The price marked is sixty cents.  (Another factoid related to those ancient days: my book of a selection of ten Haydn piano sonatas does not have any catalogue numbers.  Apparently the Hoboken catalogue finally included numbers for the piano sonatas in 1971--although the question remains: why would a catalogue of Haydn's music be based in New Jersey?)

Anyway, this is one of the 'easy sonatas' (leichte sonaten), so it was quite appropriate for my technique level at that time.  However, I didn't have the kind of technique concept for playing piano music of this period.  That was not to come for several decades. But as an adult piano student, I was able to repair some of those deficiencies in my early studies.  I finally studied all of the the two-art and three-part Inventions of Bach, and started plowing into the Well-Tempered Clavier, and some sonatas by Mozart and Haydn.  My piano teachers in Japan emphasized the ways to differentiate among baroque, classical and romantic playing techniques and styles.  Applying these to the Beethoven sonata made it much more interesting and satisfying.  Here is a clue--I never paid much attention to slurs, phrasing indications and the like.  These make a big difference!  I suppose that just reading the notes was a big enough task--not enough RAM space to deal with all the extraneous markings!  When it comes to baroque keyboard music, there are lots of ways to play it on the piano--Glenn Gould certainly pushed the envelope on that.  But when it comes to the classical repertoire, things are a lot more strict.  I am glad I am finally 'getting it!'

In googling, I discovered a sound file of a lecture on this piece by Andras Schiff.  It is a good reference, especially for those looking for more Beethoven basics.

The picture shows a Bluthner piano I found in the old Sogakudo concert hall at the Tokyo University of Fine Arts and Music.  I had never heard of this brand, but it was a favorite of Rachmaninov and lots of other famous musicians. Originated in Leipzig, famous for aliquot strings and cylindrical sound board. 

Flying to the Crescent City

From Music City to the Big Easy

I was surprised by how easily all the Japanese people in our group breezed through airport security. Also, we got very good service on Southwest--when they saw we were all checking in together, they opened another station just for us. We were met in Nawlins by a driver from Tulane University, who was very friendly and ended up lending me his wife's cell phone. Along the way, he pointed out rings on the pillars supporting an overhead highway--water marks left by hurricane Katrina. Other than that, there was really no sign of that great disaster.

We couldn't find any reasonably priced places where we could all stay--thus a cell phone was quite handy, since we had three different locations. The Japanese consul was very helpful in that regard--I stayed in a condo owned by a Japanese expat. It was a great location, on St. Charles, just across the street from the Garden District. I enjoyed riding the St. Charles streetcar line downtown.

As soon as we got to town, we heard that the New Orleans Museum of Art had arranged a TV gig as a promotion for the Japan Festival at the museum. We were supposed to play on an early-morning show, with our bit starting at 5:30 AM!! Well, I was so worried about not waking up that I didn't get much sleep. However, I put on my kimono and waited in front of my building for the communications director of the museum to pick me up at 4:45--she arrived in a Miata convertible. First time I ever rode in a convertible wearing my kimono. The gig went surprisingly well--I played the shamisen, managing to get it tuned up in very short order. The TV show--Good Morning New Orleans--put our segment on line, but I have since lost track of it.

Our first live gig was at Tulane University, in the Rogers Memorial Chapel, not a very big space, but it turned out to be a good size for the crowd, and the space is more square than rectangular, so it had a nice intimate feeling. The high humidity of NOLA was great for my tsuzumi, and the crowd was pleased.

Part of our group was staying on the other side of the French Quarter, so we made the famous Cafe du Monde our meeting place--even if you get lost, everyone knows how to get there. I went by taxi the first time, but then I took the streetcar the next time, which involved a bit of walking to get to Jackson Square. But the atmosphere was great. We had a nice dinner of local food somewhere in the FQ. But I never had a chance to actually order one of the Cafe du Monde's famous beignets. The day we returned to Japan, somebody had brought a leftover one to the airport, so I got to taste one, although not exactly at the peak of freshness.

Our other gig was the Japan Festival at the museum. I took a taxi over there, and was greeted by a taiko group playing in front of the classically-styled museum building (it is in the middle of a nice big park). We were shown to the board of directors room to use as our dressing room. Nice view of the park, and nice works of art for our exclusive enjoyment. The Festival had lots of things to do--a bonsai corner, tea ceremony corner, flower arranging, origami. I talked to some guys from the NO Zen temple--perfect name!

They were conducting meditation sessions in a room at the museum. The temple was related to the lineage of Harada and I told them I had seen the famous statue of Sawaki Kodo (same lineage) at the temple Sengakuji in Tokyo. Anyway, the museum gig was in a small auditorium, with no backstage space--but it was okay, since we were using the directors' room! This was one of our best and also best-received performances. Just getting it down pat as we came to the end of the tour.

I really enjoyed the atmosphere of NOLA--when we finished our dinner in the French Quarter, we stepped outside to find an impromptu music group. I saw similar groups throughout the area, all without any electricity! YAY! We also went to a really touristy restaurant and walked around Bourbon Street a bit--I was concerned about the group of five Japanese women, one in kimono, in a boisterous crowd of people carrying drinks around. But it was okay. We made our way to Preservation Hall. There was not too much time left in the set, but we went in anyway, and it was great.

The day before we left was a free day. Part of our group decided to do a boat cruise with lunch. I heard about an ethnic festival in Gretna, across the river, accessible by a free ferry. That sounded worth it, and it turned out the people on the lunch cruise were kinda disappointed by the banal scenery. The free ferry was nice, but right after getting off the boat, you had to pay $15 to enter the festival. Well, it was still cheaper than the lunch cruise. They had oysters--but I am not a fan. I went for a brat on a stick with a microbrew, followed by the famous fried green tomatoes and a crawdad fritter. There was a static display of the last locomotive manufactured in Louisiana, right behind the Gretna city hall. There was also a big sign for a bail bondsman, so I figure the city hall must also be the jail and courthouse.

The next day, our flight back to Japan turned out to be the flight from hell! Thank you Continental Airlines--you failed on both trans-Pacific flights! The return flight was even more egregious--flew for two hours, decided to turn back because of non-functional toilets. Fuel tanks had to be dumped in order to land. The next plane took a couple more hours of waiting, and it was still not completely ready. They gave us very 'generous' compensation--a ticket for a free adult beverage OR 10% off on a duty free purchase of more than $75. Guess what--no alcohol on the plane! Somehow I was not in the mood for a duty free purchase that day. Well, at least we made it back, maybe about six hours late.

The restaurant pic shows my preference for candid shots instead of the 'Hai! Poozu!' type favored by the Japanese. So, my apologies to Wada-san for catching her in the middle of taking a bite!

Some people think the haloed figure in front of Preservation Hall is Amida--but I know that is definitely not true!

US Performance Tour Nashville pt 2

We stayed at the Skerrit-Bennet Center in Nashville. It was formerly a university, in fact the first in the country to admit African-American women as students. I am not sure whether the university moved or closed, but anyway, the campus is now a good place for travelers on a budget. The entire campus is done in a fairly economical version of neo-gothic. The guest rooms are the dormitory rooms--a bit dingy, and most of them share a bath with one other room, causing lots of problems when the opposite party forgets to unlock the bathroom door. But certainly cheap, and free wi-fi in the central (used to be the library) building. It is adjacent to Vanderbilt U., and there are some restaurants (including the sushi place) and a CVS drug store that was also very convenient. There is also an old wooden building that was the first Methodist meeting house west of the Appalachians, the Strother Meeting House. The building has been moved around and used for various non-churchly purposes; now it is retired from active duty, and preserved as part of the campus.

In addition to Celebrate Nashville, we also performed at a few colleges/universities: Columbia College, Western Kentucky and Belmont. We got great support from Mrs. Grimes, a Japanese-born long-time resident of the area. She did a drop-in dance performance at Columbia, where she has been a Japanese language teacher. We had to use big vans to carry the ten of us to Columbia and Western Kentucky. However, Belmont is in town, not far from Skerrit-Bennet, so the vice-consul (I think that is what she is, but not sure) made two trips using her own car to take us over there. The last pic shows her with her Japanese-speaking staff member, Jennifer, and Ms. Grimes, as well as the dancers and musicians.

US Performance Tour

My drum teacher asked me to join in a tour to perform in two US cities, Nashville (Tenn.) and New Orleans (La.). Our first gig was the 'Celebrate Nashville' festival on an outdoor stage at Centennial Park, near the famous Parthenon. However, getting there proved to be quite a challenge. Continental Airlines took four hours to fix a toilet problem before the plane could leave Tokyo. We arrived late in Houston, and could not get on any connecting flights to Nashville, so we had to spend the night in Houston. Fortunately, we found one agent who was able to get us on a flight early enough to make our gig. Still, it was touch-and-go. It was our roughest performance, but the atmosphere was far from formal, so it didn't matter too much. The stage had a rather exuberant hand-painted backdrop. The other acts on the program included a lot of zydeco, bluegrass and the like. After our performance, lots of photographers showed up to photograph our fantastic dancers in the park's lush greenery.

For many Japanese, American food is a bit of a problem--too rich, too greasy, too much. Fortunately, my teacher and I were introduced to a great, inexpensive sushi place in Nashville. Later, we were able to tour around a bit to see some of the music scene. We went to a fairly small and simple place called the Station Inn--it was cozy and much more my style compared to some more famous places that seemed over the top to me.

New Year Celebration I

(I have posted three entries in reverse order, hoping it will be easy to read them starting with no. I. If you see no. III first, please read them in reverse order.)

I had some very satisfying experiences during this holiday season. On New Year's eve, I went to the temple Enyuji for the 108 bell strikes. It is pretty common for temples to ring their bells 108 times on the last night of the year (it is called Joya no Kane in Japanese), but they have various ways of carrying it out. At Enyuji, they hand out 108 tickets to the first 108 individuals or groups (up to four people with one ticket). I put on my kimono (Oshima tsumugi) and hakama and headed over to the temple a bit before 10:00 PM, since the tickets would be handed out starting at 10:30. I splurged on a taxi to get there (walking would be nearly 30 minutes) and when I got there, the line was already pretty long. Of course, there was no way to tell how many groups--there were lots of families there, with kids running around and so on. But after waiting 20 minutes or so the line started moving quickly and I got my ticket.

It was fairly chilly--in the low 40s or high 30s F. So, I put lots of heat packs (those sand-filled things that heat up through slow oxidation) on my legs and back. I wore very thick underwear--top and bottom--giving a very filled-out look to my kimono. I also wore a thick woolen coat, called 'manto' a word borrowed from French. Because it doesn't have sleeves, it works well with a kimono. In place of sleeves, there is a kind of cape-thing over the shoulders. It buttons up snugly to the neck, and the material is like melton, so it is pretty warm. But it is easy to get cold just standing around. The bell ringing was supposed to start at 11:30 so I had some more time to kill. I just walked around the temple grounds and took lots of pictures. The temple buildings were still closed, and they are not heated anyway. Finally, the priest, Oka-san, came out and did the first ring. He remained standing in the bell tower the whole time, and he was just wearing his normal priest outfit with no overcoat of any kind. Maybe he was using heat packs too. There were at least three assistants for the bell ringing--probably lay volunteers. One guy took the ticket, and he was also available to take a picture for those who brought cameras. Another guy did miscellaneous work like checking the bell after each ring. Another assistant was holding the back of the log-like ringer, adding power and control for those that needed it. I took a few pix of people ringing, and then I got in line. When it was my turn, one of the assistants held my coat and another one took my picture. The standard way to ring the bell is to pull the ringer back once lightly, then back a bit more strongly on the second swing. On the third swing, pull back hard and BONNGGG! Every person then received a gift from the temple. This year and last year, the gift was a set of large, colorful chopsticks for cooking or serving. I have gotten chopsticks from other temples at New Year's, so maybe there is some tradition about this.

After my ring, I heard the 12:00 bells pealing from a nearby Catholic church. They just did one riff right at midnight. The temple bell gonged about once every minute or two, so it took probably an hour and a half or two hours. I didn't stick around long after I finished, but I decided to walk home. I went past the Catholic (Salesian, actually) church, which was having midnight mass that night. Also, that church is famous as the location of the wedding of Seiko Matsuda, a very famous pop singer.

About halfway home, I passed through Himonya Park, which has a big pond in the middle. I remembered that there is a shrine of the goddess Benzaiten (often shortened to Benten) on an island in the middle of the pond. Her shrines are often on islands (or hills). She is the goddess of performing arts--she is often portrayed playing the biwa. I crossed the arched bridge to the tiny island, then tossed a coin in the box, rattled the shaker/bell, clapped and bowed. Then, someone gave me an ofuda, a small sacred board. It had the name of the shrine, nothing that it was a branch of the famous Itsukushima shrine in Hiroshima. Someone had prepared cups of amazake, a sweet hot drink made from sake lees. A few people were standing around a small fire in a can. As I sipped my warming drink, I could still hear the bell of Enyuji.