Shack Attack

Of all the days not to bring a camera...

Yargh! I had an absolutely wonderful day today, and forgot to load the battery in my camera. Don't you just hate that?

The day started out at Yoyogi park, where had a hanami (cherry blossom-viewing party) party. I can't believe I've never been to Yoyogi before; it's amazing! There were maids, 50's greasers dancing, jugglers, street artists, musicians, a sea of people engaged in drunken merriment, and a good portion of the park's blossoms in bloom. My friends and I waded out to an island in the middle of the lake there and played music, but an hour or so in, The Man (a polite Japanese policeman) came and shut us down. He didn't actually have a general issue with us being out on the island, but wanted to make sure the numerous kids out playing didn't try to imitate us and drown. Fair enough, I guess- I've never been a fan of endangering small children. My friend heard some Tokyo YouTubers were having a get-together at the same time (along with every other gaijin in Tokyo), but never tracked them down. We did find my buddy Kris Tate and his gang, though.

The merriment lasted until dusk, when we headed over to Tokyo's best gyoza joint, Gyoza Rou, tucked away in a Harajuku back alley. Six dumplings, grilled, or boiled, for 290 yen? Hell yes! I'm a grilled guy all the way, but I have to admit, the boiled ones came very close to making me want to switch.

After dinner, it was time for...hookah! Wha? I had no idea they had hookah bars in Tokyo, but there are at least two near Shimokitazawa on the Keio line (you might want to go with someone who's been before; I don't know if I could find it again). It was cheap, too- 600 yen buys you an individual hookah with free coal refills. I got a mix of peach and melon, which was pretty good, but a little harsh. The winner was definitely the melon/rose pipe my friend Colin ordered. We were feeling pretty good from the beer and gyoza in our bellies and the shisha in our lungs, and had a conversation that rambled over love, life in Japan, our portending job searches, and the epic parties yet to be had this semester. I caught the not-quite-last train home, a departure from the norm, and got to zone out to NPR podcasts, my favorite soundtrack to my daily two hours (average) of train rides.

Today was a good day, and tomorrow's back to sorting out the end of break. Somehow my inbox has crept up from zero, I still have to finish tax stuff for school, and I've got a queue of product descriptions for obscure Japanese goods to translate for a new job. Things are coming together nicely for our big party this Thursday, and classes kick off next week. Life's busy, but the sakura are blooming, and the future is bright.

PS: The hanami should be even better next sunday, so if you're planning on heading out, you'll probably find me and my buddies on or around the lake in the middle of the park. Want to make sure we meet up? Drop me a line.

Artisan Tofu

A tiny tofu and soymilk stand near Tsukiji market in Tokyo. This was the absolute best soy dairy I've ever had: soft, sweet, creamy, and slightly pungent. The magazine article behind the barrel sings this tofu artist's praises.

J-Humor and Excessive Inclusivity

Maybe you've felt it too- you laugh along with your favorite Japanese TV show, get all the jokes, and have a great time watching it, but something doesn't satiate you the way your favorite western show does. Or maybe you're listening to a J-pop album, and love the dulcet voice of the artist, but can't make yourself feel an emotional connection to the song. Something's missing from Japanese humor, and that something is an out-group.

I wrote a little about this before, but modern Western humor is based on an asymmetrical awareness of incongruity in the world. When we watch the Daily Show or the Colbert Report, we feel privy to absurdity that goes over the head of the other side of the congressional aisle. With The Office, we get to laugh at situations the show's characters experience with deadly sobriety (sometimes with Jim and Pam chuckling along with us). Even stand-up comedy has an out-group; it's the guys, real or imagined, that never quite get the punchline, that force laughs just to fit in. Humor is sharing a secret knowledge about the world, a knowledge about something out-of-whack that goes unnoticed by everyone else. With Japanese humor, it's close to impossible not to get the joke, and that's what leads to the empty feeling inside. Japanese humor is about everyone getting it, which necessarily brings it down to the lowest common denominator of intelligence. Japanese game shows are the best example of this, and Tokyo Mango's Lisa Katayama has a great take on them

The host of a real Japanese game show is a politically incorrect, sarcastic man who revels in mild forms of torture and isn't afraid to smack a woman on the head. (The feminist in me battles the light-hearted Japanese humoree every time I watch one.) The contestants are stoic, and driven by the determination not to make a fool of themselves and the desire to win money and/or fame. The show's creators are constantly upping the ante, forcing contestants into grueling, sometimes life-threatening situations. A panel of yappy celebrity commentators and on-screen subtitles emphasize LOL moments and onomatopoeia.

(Don't confuse 'sarcasm' above for dry, sparkly wit, though; it's more along the lines of "Good job!" after a guy screws up, followed by cartoon letters on the screen, a bonk on the head for the loser, and a studio audience in stitches).

Want to see what Lisa's talking about? The clip below is pretty representative:

I was kind of excited when I heard they had started to parody Obama on Japanese TV, but the whole joke is a guy who says "Yes we can" and "Change" in response to anything. It would have been funny if they didn't have it going for weeks on end.

I want to feel 'in' with the shows I watch, and that requires feeling like someone else is 'out.' I need the impression that witty to me will be boring, perplexing, or simply unfunny to someone else, and Japanese humor just doesn't do that for me. That's not to say I don't enjoy myself watching it, it just doesn't fully satiate. At least, that's my feeling based on the media I've seen so far, which has been mainstream dramas and prime-time TV. I'm hoping that somewhere in this land of 180 million people, there's someone poking subtle fun at the establishment, opening jokes in loops and closing them with ten minutes later, jabbing at the social issues of the country at the same time he's making us all laugh. Know anyone like that?

Upcoming Tokyo Events: March 25-April 13th

The next few weeks are busy! Here's a run-down of the big goings-on:

• March 25th, 7pm: Beer and Blog Tokyo
• March 25th, 11pm: Globalation@AI, an International Club Party
• March 26th, 8pm: CM Swing (Finnish acapella) and multi-cultural fun at an Omotesando cafe.
• March 28th, 9pm: Housewarming party for Fiat's new club in Aoyama.
• March 29th, 1:30pm: I'll be in Yoyogi jamming with a couple of my friends; feel free to join. If hanging out with college kids doesn't suit ya, go to the Networking in Tokyo Hanami Party at the same time.
• April 2nd, 7pm: My end-of-break party for college students in Tokyo.
• April 7th, 6:30pm: Entreprener's Association of Tokyo seminar on "Design, Business, and Creativity."
• April 13th, 7pm: Tokyo 2.0. April's theme is "The Sustainable Web."
  

Looks to be a good mix of drunken fun and intelligent conversation (not necessarily at the same time, except for maybe Beer and Blog). Have I missed anything? Let me know in the comments!

100-Yen Shop Engrish

Hundred yen shops are wonderful stores where everything (yes, everything) costs 100 yen, or around a buck. From pots and pans to neckties, you get to experience what exactly overseas mass production can do for cheap consumer items. I stopped by one of these stores this morning for an umbrella (dollar umbrellas are pretty flimsy, but they're also one dollar), and happened across some pretty good Engrish. Rather than "haha, Japanese people suck at English," it was pretty touching. Despite the slightly weird copy and occasional grammatical error, the messages were sweet and wise.

Ok, there was a little cause for chuckles. How the heck do you come up with "Lube Sheep"? That's the kind of thing you'd expect someone who actually knows good English to invent for giggles.