Saturday, August 22, 2020

“Nagano, 1998 - 98/02/14" (with 2020 intro)

2020/08/22 - In 1998, I decided to go to Nagano to see what Nagano City looked like while it was hosting the 1998 Winter Olympics.  I'm not very interested in sports, which is helpful, as I couldn't have afforded the expensive ticket prices if I had wanted to see one of the events.  As it was, I just wanted to see the city at that time, and so all I needed was to take a Shinkansen there, which was (is) a bit pricey in itself, but as a day trip, that's all I needed to pay for.

   I've had this old text in mind for quite a while, but just (this weekend) finally put the time in to go over it and post it here.  It's a bit long - doing a quick check in a word processor for the nearly final version, it indicated 7,411 words with 40,325 characters.  Of course the character count includes spaces, but it still is an indication of how many keystrokes were required to write it.  The initial writing was done with paper and pen, and then I typed up my handwritten text later, so a bit of time went into this.

   This was during my camera-less period, so I was recording everything via words.  Some things are better explained just with words, but while there are some elements of that in here, after reading it over again, I find myself wishing I'd recorded the trip with a video camera, but text is the only method I had at the time.  Anyway - here it is. - LHS

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“Nagano, 1998 - February 14th, 1998 - Going to the Venue City"

   (8:37 a.m.  Inside a commuter train) - Well, here I go.  I decided to go to Nagano after all...  I stand here, in the train, with anticipation of the trip ahead, the Acer laptop in the backpack (not likely to be used, but...), and three or four doses of guilt at leaving friends behind.  Actually, the only part of this day trip that’s really cause for guilt is the expense incurred in getting from Tokyo to Nagano, about 15,000 yen round trip.  I don’t have the money to actually see any of the events (not the purpose of this trip anyway), and will spend the entire day walking around Nagano City to experience the atmosphere there.  Fascinating for me, but not something any of my friends would be up to doing.  I used to do this regularly back when I was taking video - I’d go out on day trips every Saturday or Sunday.

   (9:00 a.m.  Tokyo Station bound) - I just bought the ticket for the Shinkansen.  The guy at the ticket counter was an interesting and friendly guy.  Get this - a round trip ticket to Nagano costs 14,600 yen, and a two day, unlimited use, go anywhere in the northern part of Honshu ticket costs 16,000 yen.  Hmmm... it was a really tough choice , but I bought the two day pass.  (Just in case, yes, that's sarcasm, it was - of course - an exceptionally easy choice.)  This way I can move around in Nagano and even take a trip somewhere tomorrow too.

   The couple sitting next to me on this Chuo Line train were just looking at their two tickets to... ice hockey I think.  I could see three things very clearly on their tickets; the Olympic insignia, a picture of a man on ice with a hockey puck, and the price... 21,000 yen each!  Yow!!  That’s practically $400.00 in tickets for the two of them!  I’ve got 4,000 yen and some change in my pocket....  Ah! This is the life!  Well, actually I don’t feel bad right now, as having more money wouldn’t change this trip.  When lack of money stops me from doing something I want to do, it’s extremely irritating, but otherwise....  We’re pulling into Tokyo Station now.

   (9:27 a.m.  Shinkansen) - On the Shinkansen, underway, and SITTING DOWN!!  YEAH!!!  I love traveling!.....

   Oh no!...  Oh no!  Smoke!  Augghh!!  I forgot about smoke.  I’ll complain more later.  I need to get out of my coat and settled in.

   (9:32 a.m.) - Cough cough!!  In Ueno.  We’ve got some standees now.

   (9:40 a.m.) - Next sop, Omiya.  Other than the smoke, this is quite a comfortable ride.  Each of the Shinkansen lines has a name for the trains.  The Tokyo-Nagano line is called the “Asama Shinkansen”.  This is the newest one I think.  It was completed just in time for the Nagano Olympics.  Not only the line, but the trains themselves are new as well.  Nice color scheme for the seats... the left side of the train (going in this direction anyway) has two seats each, and the right side (where I am, on the aisle) three each, which is probably why there are three color variations - no two seats, side to side, or front to back, are the same color.  All seats have some black, and the three color schemes are basically blue and green, orange-brown and green, and blue and purple.

   (9:50 a.m.  Omiya) - Several more people getting on here.  People standing in the aisle now.  It’s starting to feel more like a commuter line.  Ah... yes... but of course, I just realized a major reason for the comfort I felt up until Omiya - I’m sitting at the back of the car, and I could see down the empty aisle... space!  Beautiful beautiful space.

   To my sandwiches and the view.  Oh, before I forget... I was going to say that the overall color scheme of this train is quite nice, but the effect is markedly changed with people standing all down the aisle.

   We’re picking up speed now... the Shinkansen trains run around 200 kilometers per hour.

   (10:14 a.m.  Pulling into Takasaki Station) - A few people are getting off here, but many more are getting on, several foreigners included... the first I’ve seen on this trip.  Yow... now it really is like a commuter line, with people leaning on my seat, the left side windows invisible.  There’s an American man trying to sell tickets to a couple of Australians(?)... he’s got his arm leaning into the top of my seat - if I put my head back, it will be on top of his arm.  I look with extreme envy at the man two seats away from me, sitting by the window.

   (10:26 a.m.  In a long tunnel) - We seem to be climbing... and probably are, heading into snow country after all.

   Language... I’ve read before that for many Japanese, when they learn English, it can be physically tiring.  I spend very little time speaking to native English speakers, but my native language is English.  Even so, maybe there’s something to the theory that different sounds affect the mind in different ways.  Here I am, a native English speaker, and the sound of English coming from the three people next to me is quite harsh on the ears.  Of course, the LA guy is practically talking into my ear.

   (10:33 a.m.  Karuizawa) - A few people off, more on.  This is really strange.  I’ve always laughed when students told me they were so tired after an English lesson that they went home and laid down, but here I am feeling fatigue just from listening to English.  Strange....

   (11:00 a.m.  Nagano) - Oops!  It takes less time to get here than I thought it would... only an hour and a half from Tokyo.  I ended up talking to the guys standing next to me.  The guy from LA for just a little, but the other guy, who turned out to be from Lincoln, in England, for twenty-five minutes.  (I meet far more people in Japan from Australia than England, and so I end up mistaking English people for Aussies.)

   Anyway!  Already it feels strange seeing so many foreigners just in the station here.  Time to go out and see the town.  (Looking out the window, I see it’s raining!!)

   (11:25 a.m.) - Amway tent.  Rain... and very little snow anywhere - a little on some roofs and beside the road in places.  In the Amway tent are many tables and chairs, two large televisions, a grand piano and an electric organ (on a small stage), and many Amway boxes in the corners stacked two meters high.  On TV, some ice sport that I don’t understand... pushing a bowling ball sized thing down a bowling lane sized block of ice... happening near where I am I suppose.  Interesting - what is the significance of being physically close to something that I can’t see?  Just the fact that it would be physically possible to go there I suppose.

   (12:14 p.m.) - Outside the “Big Hat”, a light green and white auditorium.  Standing in the rain, under my umbrella, I contemplate my twenty-minute walk here from the station.  Many tour-type buses heading towards the station, most empty.  A city bus with the passengers looking like they live in a small (by Japanese standards) Japanese town (which they do), looking out the windows with... what’s the word for that look... “wonder” maybe, at all the changes outside the windows of the bus.  The cars - no strong impression there, although some have Olympic (parking?) stickers on the windshield.

   The rain is coming down harder now.  One more thing - beside the auditorium is a very strange (for Japan) sight: a small, old warehouse type building with all the second floor windows smashed.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen that in Japan before... maybe it’s the contrast, sitting right next to the new auditorium.  Luckily there’s no wind, but I’m getting a little bit wet all the same.

   (12:25 p.m.) - In front of “Big Hat”.  As I walked by the CBS trailer parked beside the auditorium, some CBS guys were just going through the gate, so I asked one if he knew my e-mail pal who is here with the Olympics (she said she was coming anyway), but he didn’t.  She’s freelance - maybe that’s why.

   Right now, the events inside the building I’m standing in front of are being watched all over Japan, across the oceans and around the world, but I can’t see them.  Physically, I could walk into the building and see the events without any electronics within two minutes, but... no ticket, so you, living across vast oceans, can see what is inside the building I stand beside better than I.  As I stand here, one after another, people are taking pictures of each other standing here in front of the building.  Maybe they don’t have tickets either.  No matter.  “The event?  I don’t know!  I didn’t see it!  But I was there, look, here’s a picture of me, standing right there in front of the building!”

   (12:40 p.m.) - In the MPC building.  What is it?  No idea!  There’s a check point, like at airports, and two wind blown guys next to me were just saying: “I’ve got some T-shirts - some L’s, a couple of XL’s... eight altogether....”  “... buses... Why don’t they just run a regular service back and forth to the station?”

   A new bunch of people just came in... off of a bus I guess.  They almost all have the same look, mustaches, some beards... late twenties to early forties I’d say.  They all look... sort of like photographers do, with comfortable casual clothes... a rough windblown look.

   I just asked one guy with a two-day beard “What is this building?”  He looked at me like I’d just stepped off a spaceship from the outer limits, and waited so long, that I thought he wasn’t going to answer, and said “Press Center”.  Then he looked at a paper (taped over the phones I was standing by) that says “List of Taxi Companies”, and muttering “... nightmare...” he walked away.  I’ve been here (in the building) long enough that one of the guards is openly staring at me now....  Time to go I guess.

   (1:00 p.m.) - Not three minutes from the MPC, I’m standing on a narrow street... not a soul to be seen... beyond the house at the end of the street, the mountains rise into the low clouds... the sound of birds... rain against my umbrella... a slight wind.....  While I stood there at MPC, there was an electric atmosphere, the kind that only temporary events can generate... nervous energy?  One final note before I continue on.  Only three people passed by as I wrote; one woman on foot, a man on a bicycle, and a man in a mini-truck.  None of them paid any attention to me... who am just a passing aberration I suppose.

   (1:10 p.m.) - Just down the street, some of the houses have a set of three small flags by their door, set in a base that says “Hearty Welcome to Nagano”.  One flag is a Japanese flag, one is a “Nagano 1998” Olympic flag, and the other one is of four owls, and it says “Snowlets”.

   I just saw a light bulb streetlight (as in standard light bulb)!  I’ve seen those in an old popular comic strip called “Sazae-san”, which was written from just after the war, through the fifties (and into... the seventies maybe), but I’ve never seen one still in use.  In Tokyo, they’re all florescent tubes, or something else.  This one I’m looking at now is a regular light bulb.  (Asking someone about that later, it seems the heat from an incandescent light bulb is useful in melting snow from the shade over it in areas that get a lot of snow.)

   A pretty woman walks by... the way she averts her gaze downward is definitely of the old school, not like most of the young women in Tokyo.  Of course if this same woman goes to Tokyo, she’ll change.

   How is it in Tokyo?  When a typical young woman walks by, she looks ahead with a “Aren’t I the best thing you’ve ever laid eyes on?” look on her face.  Not everybody’s so extreme, but then again, I can’t recall the last time I saw a woman in Tokyo act like the one who just walked by me here.

   A woman on a bicycle came by and asked (in English) if I was lost.  Turns out she’s a volunteer to help tourists.  I mentioned (in Japanese) that I had never seen light bulb street lights in Tokyo, and she told me that all the ones here are like that.  I hear festival drums in the distance... three ten year old boys walk by... none of them look at me, but one says to the other two “What’s he writing anyway?”.  It seems like people follow the rule “Don’t stare at strangers” more closely here than in 

Tokyo.

   That festival(?) music... where’s it coming from?

   (1:37 p.m.) - Back on the main street between the station and “Big Hat”.  A heavier stream of people flow by toward the auditorium.  To my left, on the corner of a side street, and the main street, is a machine shop.  I wonder how many of the people walking by on their way to the “Big Hat” see it.  White people with pink noses and ears pass by... that pink color really stands out here.

   I noticed LP gas tanks by several of the apartment buildings... maybe the city isn’t piped for natural gas.

   (1:55 p.m.  The wind’s picking up, making it harder to keep the paper dry as I write.) - I’m standing in a gravel lot with twelve cars... twelve cars, and nine of them are white!  Color cars are getting more popular - in fact, I can see a parking lot across a field with a much lower percentage of white cars (less than half), but still white cars here seem more popular than they are recently in Tokyo.

   (2:30 p.m.) - I love cars... when I’m driving, but not when I’m walking.  I used a main road to get across the Susobana River (the water was brown with silt from the rain), and as soon as I got off the main road and away from the exhaust gases, I felt much better.  I'm standing in a foothill suburb (in an empty parking space next to a plateless CRX... strange...) overlooking the city.  It's a beautiful sight - low clouds drifting by obscuring the tops of the mountains that surround the city - all under a dramatically overcast sky.  The atmosphere is nicer here than in the center of the city.  If I were to live in Nagano, I should like to live in this area I think.

   (14:50) - A house, built on stilts by a creek... in the window, on TV, is... a cooking show!  (Technical note:  The stilts are old cut up pieces of railway rail, which used to be a fairly common building material.  Many older train stations in Tokyo were built using old rails for the beams... quite appropriate for a train station when you think about it!)

   (15:15) - I'm sitting on the top step of a shrine.  The top step is actually part of a wooden balcony that runs around the front and sides of the building... protected by a pagoda-like overhanging roof.

   It's very quiet... so quiet that I can hear the sound of my pen on the paper now and then.  Mostly I hear the sound of water dripping from the edge of the roof onto the ground just a half meter from where I'm sitting.  Birds... a distant siren... a cat (asking for food it sounds like... I grew up with a cat)... a car drives by and parks in a lot behind the shrine on the other side of the road... a woman walks down the narrow road (from the car I think) carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags with a three or four year old girl by her side, walking noisily in her boots... a train horn... still the distant siren... another kind of bird... the wind... sensed more than heard.  I'm at the very edge of the city on this side - after I check out what promises to be an excellent viewpoint, I'll head back to the city center.  The rain is mixed with a little bit of snow, so I suppose it will turn to snow later on.

   (15:40) - Fantastic!  I have a completely unobstructed view of the city.  It's much larger than I had thought!  I can also see that I've come further into the mountains than I had realized.  I can see from here how I walked through a narrow section of houses that fill a valley, with the shrine at the very back of the valley, and just behind the shrine is a mountain.  The narrow road winds just behind the shrine and then makes a U-turn back towards the city as it climbs... just at the point where it makes a 120 degree turn to the left, is a spot just off the road with a view that's unobstructed by trees, which is where I am.  I can see everything; the Shinkansen trains coming and going, the "Big Hat", the rivers....  It's a beautiful sight from these foothills.

   I can hear marching band music... drifting in and out of audible range with the wind.

   (16:12) - Still in the foothills.  There's a metal box on a pole, about the size of a mailbox, with road salt in plastic bags inside, and a sign on the box saying not to take the salt for any other purpose than using it on the road.

   (16:20) - Part of the hills here have been terraced, and are being used to grow fruit trees (I don't know what kind), which is why the view is so great - the fruit trees are only two or three meters high.  After Tokyo, I just can't get enough of this view....

   (16:50) - I'm standing high over a creek, trying to find my way back to the city center... but I keep getting sidetracked... many of the older houses have the strange shaped roofs that are ventilated in the middle, and were (I'm told) used to raise silk worms in back in the old days.  Now my hands are warmed up a bit from a heated can of cocoa (heated can drinks are available from almost all can drink vending machines in the winter).  I'm feeling better now, but by the time I drank the cocoa, it was only lukewarm.

   As I wrote, I watched the progression of someone's spent laundry water progressing down the creek... there's a bunch of foam below the concrete induced waterfall (flood control) now....

   (17:23) - I'm standing by the Susobana River... high tension wires (12 of them) overhead just behind me... directly overhead, a pale blue sky (happy to have the umbrella back in the backpack), to my right, as I face the river, a sky that a good picture of would be worth 2,222 words... but no camera today, so... many shades of purple, some pink... and the mountains looking majestic beyond... the river (now green) sounding quite nice....

   (18:00) - "Hotel Kokusai 21"  The name for this hotel is one of those names that must have required enormous powers of imagination to come up with... "Kokusai" means "international" in Japanese, so it's the "Hotel International 21", and according to a poster on the wall, provides "Accommodation for IOC", whatever that is.  At the bottom of the poster, it says "Worldwide Partners", and it has Coca-Cola, McDonald’s, IBM, and a bunch of other companies listed.

   The place is awash with foreigners... I was going to walk through the lobby, but they have that airport security here too!  Metal detectors, guards... so rather than dump the contents of my backpack (which includes my Acer laptop) though security... just for a minute in the lobby, I'm standing here between the double doors of the entranceway.

   (18:15) - Standing out in the cold in front of the hotel.  I asked a woman who was waiting for someone (in that space between the doors), if the security for Olympic events is always like this, or is it something new?  She said it's always like this, the reason being that the Olympic committee is staying there.  You can't even get into the lobby without an ID card.

   (18:25  Nagano Gondo) - "Gondo... is the place to go" I was told by the friendly guy behind the counter of a Seven-Eleven.  And here I am... this is the street I've seen a couple of times on the CBS news.  It's one of the better looking streets in the city, with some old style buildings in the background that make for a great backdrop.  A bunch of guys are marching around in the street with a dragon on poles.  Maybe you saw it.  It's being recorded by professional foreign video crews... one of which just bumped me to the side with his camera.  Talk about perfect timing for what I'm writing about!

   Back by the drums now... you can feel them as much as you can hear them.  The drums look Japanese, but the dragon... it reminds me of something I've seen in China Town.

   (18:40) - No sooner had I written that, than a woman gave me a pamphlet in English and Japanese explaining the festival.  Apparently it's a festival held only in Nagano and the English title of the story explaining the reason for the festival is "A Fold Tale of a Willow Tree"...  I suspect it's not a great translation.  I'll try to look into it later.

   The scene... a group of eight high school girls posing for a group picture... foreigners everywhere... the festival people disappearing into the night....  Actually I'm not sure if Gondo is the name of the covered mall that starts from this street, or if it's the name of this area.

   (18:53) - Here's another thing I saw on the CBS News... only for two or three seconds, but of radio controlled little ski robots in a showroom for Mizuno products... I'm here basically to thaw out a little.

   High school girls everywhere... they must be on a school trip.  Technically, the school trips are voluntary (I'm told), but nobody refuses to go... it would be embarrassing.

   (19:00) - My hands are flexible again!  I'm going to check out "Chuo Dori" (Central Avenue) a little more, and check out the Gondo Arcade, and the Gondo Station area.

   (19:14) - In front of Zenkoji Temple, which a few Japanese friends in Tokyo told me is the most famous tourist attraction in Nagano.  When I pulled out my notebook and began writing, there were at least a hundred of the high school girls posing in front of the entrance.  The silence I hear now would indicate they were producing a fair amount of noise.  I like this street leading up to the temple... it has a good feel to it... lots of interesting old buildings in good condition.  I'm going into the temple area now.

   (19:22) - In-between the first entrance gate to the temple and the actual temple itself... the buildings - mostly housing souvenir shops now - are.., if not actually old, at least of the old style... very nice.  There are obviously several school tours here at the same time... color coded... this time both boys and girls.  One large group wearing green pants and red jackets look downright Decemberish.  There are easily a thousand high school students all around me now... something I suspect you might have trouble imaging if you haven't experienced it.

   (19:31) - What I thought was the temple from a distance is just yet another gate!!  A massive wooden pagoda-like thing about four stories high.  I asked one of the groups of girls in red and green where they're from.  Hyogo-ken... which is the area of Japan where Kobe is.

   (19:37) - Finally.., here I am, in front of the actual temple (there are several buildings, but I've finally arrived at the main one - the real deal).  This really is impressive... there's a mysterious feeling in the air of... a different time... a different world....  Impressive.

   (21:50) - Parking lot by Zenkoji Temple.  There are about thirty waiting buses here... the destination of the high school students... laughing girls...  yelling boys... I'm going back to the temple.

   (21:55) - In the temple grounds again.  This is weird... inside the temple grounds is a three story brown new building.  There's a blue sign on the front with the Olympic emblem and... and... CBS!!  Inside the temple grounds!!  Yow!!

   I went and asked the guard about it... he explained that CBS is using the temple as a backdrop to their live coverage of the games, and that it would be torn down after the games.  Some people are posing in front of it for pictures.  I think having the temple as a backdrop is cool... it's a beautiful temple (and would look even better without the anti-pigeon screens by the way), so broadcasting it's image is a good idea I think, but what I want to know... is whose idea was it to erect that building inside the temple grounds?  I wouldn't have had the audacity to ask to do something like that.

   (20:23) - I talked to a family who actually lives in Nagano, and found out that the fruit trees I saw earlier were apple trees.  Time is tight....

   (21:22) - On the platform, lined up waiting to board the Shinkansen.  I’m hoping to come back again tomorrow, but it might be difficult to get away for a second day in a row....

   (21:33) - On the train... in a window seat, in a no-smoking car (Yeah!).  On the way to the station, I met a guy from Nara.., he told me that he's going to stay in his grandparents old house, but that no one lives there now... and no one has been to the house in three months.  He seemed on the verge of inviting me to stay there, as he asked me if I had a place to stay.  I would love to have stayed in Nagano, but I have to get back to Tokyo.  I gave him my card though, and he wrote down his name and phone number for me, inviting me to visit him in Nara.

   (21:39) - The train leaves in a few minutes... the aisle is packed with standees... mostly foreigners interestingly.  This is the last train to Tokyo I think.  We're off.  With so many people in the aisle, I'm glad to have a buffer zone of two seats between me and them.

   (22:00) - It's good to be warm, and whizzing along, the sound and feel of this Shinkansen (and interior) is very much like an airplane.

   From the talk, it would seem there are many Canadians on the train... ice hockey....  I talked to a woman in line a little just before getting on board, who said she had seen the ice hockey game, but had left early to be sure and catch this train.  Ah... the standing foreigners... maybe they watched the game all the way to the end?

   (22:17) - A lot of people got off at Karuizawa... staying in hotels there?

   (22:23) - I have just one complaint about this train... it's too bright.  It would be nice if they could turn the lights down a little at night.

   (23:33) - In the Yamanote Line.

   I made the mistake of having a can of beer (bought from a machine before I got on the train in Nagano) after walking all day, without eating.., but it was a comfortable ride, so I pretty much recovered by the time I got off the train at Tokyo Station.  Once off the train, I compared the new Shinkansen to one of the old Shinkansens that happened to be stopped on the other side of the platform.  Huge difference!  One minor change that makes the new one much nicer is the floor.  Instead of a plain brown, it's patterned, looking something like a carpet, and in the "Green Car" (First Class) there really is carpet on the floor.  Of course, a lot of time has passed since those old Joetsu Line trains were built... (more than twenty years now I think).

   Tired.. but still ready to go tomorrow if it comes to that... I hope it does, but I’ll have to see what happens when I get home.  Generally speaking, there was a good, upbeat feeling about Nagano during the ’98 Olympics on Valentine’s Day....

   (12:08 a.m.  Last train of the day) - One other thing I noticed in Nagano, were several over ten year old cars (very old for Japan, what with shaken and all).  They were nice models and in really good shape... owned by the original owners?  Are people more nostalgic for their cars in Nagano?  Or is it just a matter of property owners who don’t have to pay extra rent for space to park their cars?  One other possibility... I haven’t gone on an all-day hiking expedition in Tokyo in a long time... maybe there are more old cars out there than I know.

   (98/02/15  Tokyo Station bound  9:48 a.m.) - I’m off to a very late start, but off and on my way nevertheless.  I’m less sure of my travel plans today, although I am headed back to Nagano first to see both Zenkoji Temple in the daylight (and maybe go inside), and Nagano wearing more snow.  Just as I got home yesterday, it began to rain, but when I looked out the window this morning, it was snowing, and there was already a centimeter or so of snow on the ground.  Powering up my twelve year old TV (“It’ll last ten years, no problem.” the salesman said...), I saw that snow is falling in Nagano as well, at least on the ski slopes, which are a little ways from Nagano City (Nagano City is in Nagano Prefecture... like New York, New York, the city so nice, they named it twice).  It looks like I timed it well for walking yesterday... today I plan to spend much more time on the trains.

   (9:42 a.m.) - Back on a Nagano bound Shinkansen... in a no-smoking car this time.  The announcements are in Japanese, English, and French.  Funny how quickly you get used to things.  Yesterday it was all new - today I’ve got that traveling feeling that’s a combination of confidence, arrogance, purpose... and uh... the other intangible ingredients that make up the total package.  You know what I mean... the first trip, you feel like a lost kid... wondering , worrying what’s going to happen to you... once you know your way around a little, you start laughing at tourists.  This phenomenon is particularly pronounced in Japan.

   When I show the conductor my ticket (they didn’t check yesterday), he hands it back saying (in English) “Thank you.  Have a nice trip.”  Maybe that’s standard procedure on the Shinkansens now, but it makes me wonder how much time, money and trouble is gone to (here, and all over the world) learning English.  (I know I’ve certainly spent a lot of time, money, and trouble learning Japanese.)

   Speaking of English, the murmur of English speaking voices a few rows back doesn’t sound at all strange today.  Either I’ve gotten used to hearing it more since yesterday, or that guy from LA was an obnoxious one.

   (11:03 a.m.) - Omiya Station.  As we pull into the station, I look out the window at a Coca-Cola sign that indicates that it’s 1 degree centigrade.  Speeding away from Omiya, there’s more snow on the ground.

   (12:00 noon) - Almost there... it is to a different land that I return today.  There’s a lot of new snow on the ground... about 8cm or so I think, judging from what I can see out the window of the train.  Almost there... anticipation in the air... I’m definitely picking up nervousness from those around me... what I’m about to do isn’t nearly enough cause....  Amazing... I feel like I’m about to go on stage or on TV or something.  Several of the many foreigners who just got on the train at the last few stops might be athletes.  I’ve got a strong dose of stage fright, and I’m not about to go on stage, so I must be picking it up from nervous people in my vicinity.

   (12:05 p.m.) - Out the tunnel, and..... snow on the ground, but it’s not snowing on this side of the mountain.  The air is very clear... beautiful.  We’re here.

   Oops... not quite.  Ueda... Nagano is the next stop.  It’s strange... it’s been snowing everywhere all morning, and we whiz through a tunnel, and... it’s not snowing on the other side.  So sudden.

   (12:17 p.m.) - Well, here we are.  Out the window I see the mountain I climbed halfway up yesterday and the bridge I crossed.  There’s new snow on the ground, but it’s not snowing now.

   (12:25 p.m.) - Walking through an incredible crush of people in Nagano Station.  I’m hoping to leave in a couple of hours... I hope I can get on a train okay.

   (Nagano City) - Not far from the station, I saw an old “soko” (a kind of small warehouse where people used to keep valuables back when houses weren’t lockable) a little back from the street, with what looked like a show window in the center.  The building itself caught my attention, so I took a closer look at the display window, and saw stairs inside....  As I stood there wondering what the building was exactly, two women came down the stairs and, opening the door (it wasn’t a display window after all), stepped outside.  I hesitated, but decided to go ahead inside, and I’m glad I did, as I had an interesting conversation with the woman running the shop.  She grew up in Nagano, and likes it there.  I asked her what she thought about the CBS building inside the temple grounds, and she said she thought it was strange... particularly the fact that it doesn’t match its surroundings at all.  I said I couldn’t imagine who would have the audacity to ask to put it there.  “CBS probably offered the city a lot of money...” she said.

   (14:50) - On a Shinkansen... standing this time.  I don’t know how this is going to work out, but I’m going back to where I can change to a Tohoku Shinkansen.  I want to try walking around in a non-Olympic snow town as a comparison to Nagano.  Sigh... an eight car train with only two cars for smoking, and I landed in one of them.  That’s what you get for jumping on a train just as it’s leaving the station I guess.

   (15:45 - On the Asano Shinkansen) - I didn’t have time to write about it at the time, but I went into the Zenkoji Temple.  It's a fascinating place.  I got that mysterious feeling again inside... something like how I felt last night, standing in front of it.  There’s a deal where you buy a ticket, go down a flight of stairs, and into a completely dark passage where you feel your way along the wall... periodically reaching out to see if the person in front of you is still there... you touch a “key”, and proceed through more darkness until you come to the stairs leading back up to the main floor of the temple.

   I think that the “key” gets you in there, but that the significance of the experience is what comes to mind while you’re waiting in the complete darkness.  It was a profound experience for me, as with electric street lights burning around the clock everywhere, I haven’t been in the dark for many years.

   (16:00) - Omiya!  Time to change to a Tohoku Shinkansen.  I hope I can sit down this time!

   (16:18) - On a Tohoku Shinkansen.  To get around deadbeats on the down escalator, I ran down the empty up one, but to no avail... I just missed a train to Morioka, and am on a Sendai bound train now instead.

   (16:40) - Utsunomiya.  A seat!  In a bloody smoking car, but a seat nonetheless... and by a window.  A lot of people are getting off here.  The difference between this train and the Asama is striking.  The train (and the passengers as well!) seems old and tired... but still fast.  No tunnels so far... good view... very bad (foul with smoke) air (inside the train car that is!).

   (17:12) - I escaped the hell of the smoking cars to a non-smoking one.  Phew!!!  Someday in the distant future, people will read about this era of people burning leaves in front of their face, ingesting the toxic smoke... giving each other lung cancer, and they will wonder at the deep, vast, non-intelligence of mankind.

   Beautiful landscape and skies outside the dirty windows...  (I’m spoiled after riding those just built Asama trains.)

   I talked to the woman next to me a little about different things.  She’s from Sendai, and went to Tokyo today to see a play.  She’s never been to Nagano, so I showed her some of the printed stuff I picked up there, and gave her one of my maps, and a postcard of a 1927(?) Ford Model A UPS delivery truck that’s on display near the temple in Nagano.  As I write this, I’m feeling nostalgic for Nagano already....

   (19:08) - On a Tokyo bound Yamabiko-Komachi Shinkansen... standing again!  At least it’s a no-smoking car.  This train is interesting for two reasons.  One is that it’s a combination of two trains, the Yamabiko Shinkansen and the Komachi Shinkansen.  I’m in the Komachi part of the train.  The Komachi is the fairly recently opened line from Tokyo to Akita.  I flew up to Akita last year just before it was opened... one or two weeks before in fact.  It’s very futuristic looking inside with a curved ceiling looking like something from a movie space ship or something.  Maybe it runs on narrower tracks somewhere, as the body is narrower than that of other Shinkansens, with a fold out step to close the gap with the platform, and only two seats on each side of the aisle.

   The other reason this train is interesting, is that it runs non-stop from Sendai to Omiya, leaving Sendai at 19:05, and getting to Omiya at 20:20, which is really good time for the distance.  These things run so fast, that even just a few stops really slow them down, as it takes time to bring them up and down from speed.  I’m sitting on the floor now... bad form, but I’ve been on my feet almost all day for the second day in a row, so....

   (19:33) - About Sendai.  I was only there for about an hour, but having spent some time in the city before, I didn’t need much time to achieve my objective, which was to gauge the atmosphere, as a comparison to Nagano.

   As I walked out of the station, on the second level over-road plaza/walkway, the city had a clear-air, slightly up-north feel about it.  Walking on the night streets of one side of the station, it reminded me of Tokyo streets at night... a kind of tired... emotionally cold atmosphere... great at the right time in the right place if you’re inside, but an emotional desert for the soul outside.  A huge change from the Olympic streets of Nagano right now.

   Walking into a few shops, I found (mostly) just what I expected to... shops mostly the same as those in Tokyo, but slightly less intense.  One reflection of the climate are the absence of open air stalls at Yodobashi Camera.  The Yodobashi Camera in Shinjuku basically is wall-less outside on the first floor, so the shopkeepers can call out to people passing by on the street.  It’s completely enclosed in Sendai.

   As I walked over an overpass and looked down at the people sitting in a regular train about to leave the station... and again when I checked out the subway... it occurred to me that Sendai is like a Tokyo for the Tohoku region.  It’s big enough that it has most of the things you’ll find in Tokyo, and it’s accessible in a practical way.  Tokyo may not be so far away by Shinkansen, but taking a Shinkansen is almost the same as taking an airplane.  Economically, it’s not something people can do all the time.  In immensity, Sendai doesn’t even compare to Tokyo, but that’s exactly why it’s a nice city.  I’ve often thought of Sendai when thinking about city size, and what size is best to live in... a city like Sendai is big enough to have almost everything you want a city to have, yet not too big... and reasonably convenient to Tokyo for the occasional things that are only in Tokyo.

   (20:10) - Even sitting on the floor, it feels nice to be whizzing along without stopping.  I can’t believe we’ll be back in Omiya in just ten minutes!

   (20:30) - Omiya Station.  And you thought I was going home, right?  Wrong!  I’m going to Niigata now.  Yuzawa to be exact... probably a lot of snow there... just after a very long tunnel on the Joetsu-Shinkansen Line.

   It was funny as I was getting off the last train.  I ended up talking to three other standees... all traveling on the same type of two day ticket I’m using.  A young couple went to the end of the line (Morioka), and a middle aged guy (unusually cheerful for his age), was on his way back from Akita.

   From the platform here, looking across the street... I see... a huge red flashing Coca-Cola sign, and a Disney Store.  Traditional Japan.  Being in Tokyo all the time, I’ve come to not even think about it, but my visit to the temple in Nagoya stirred up feelings I’d almost forgotten.

   (20:42) - Tanigawa-Shinkansen  (Joetsu Line)  This is a stop-everywhere Shinkansen that stops short of Niigata City (its usual destination), and dead-ends at Yuzawa, in Niigata Prefecture, where I’ll get off.  It’s an old Shinkansen, and about eighty percent empty.

   (21:17) - We entered a tunnel, and suddenly all the windows turned white... now there are water streaks drawing horizontal lines through the white.....  Hmm?  .......  Now most of the white condensation is gone....  I don’t remember that happening the last time I went through this tunnel.

   (21:37) - In the long tunnel... we’ll be coming out the other side of the mountain soon, likely to a land under a lot of snow.  If there’s one thing I really wish they’d do on these trains... all of them... is to dim the lighting at least a little at night.  I wish I had my sunglasses.

   (22:25) - Asahi Shinkansen  (Joetsu Line)  Ok, now I’m going home, on the last Shinkansen from Yuzawa.  Yuzawa... I walked around in the snow.., past rowdy skiers... a man on a side street, standing outside a restaurant talking on a mobile phone (with snow beginning to pile up on his head)... past a noisy group from a hotel who were having a snowball fight... and past a few couples and small groups on side streets walking in “geta” and “yutaka”...  not a foreigner in sight.

   There was a more... calm... atmosphere than in Nagano, and more boring... which brings up an important question: “How do you want to live?”  Safe, but limited, in a world where you know everything, so are never surprised.  Or do you live with diversity, taking advantage of new ideas, yet never sure when, and how often you’re going to run into things that you can’t understand.

   Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon - Honshu, Japan - February 15th, 1998

   Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon - www5d.biglobe.ne.jp/~LLLtrs/ - youtube.com/lylehsaxon - lylehsaxon.blogspot.jp/ - lookback1997.blogspot.jp/

Thursday, August 13, 2020

"Under the Tracks..." 1997 (with 2020 intro)

2020/08/12 - Another story from my camera-less period.  As I've explained elsewhere, I left my Nikon FM2 on the upper rack on the Yamanote Line and it wasn't turned in... I couldn't afford to replace it, so switched over to recording things with words only until 2000, when I bought my first digital camera and resumed recording scenes with a camera.

   As is my style, the story starts with mundane details and leads into more interesting things.  I realize that this loses impatient readers, but I think proper chronology is important and also I've always hated books that start off with a lead-in to the most exciting part of the book (to get people hooked) and then don't get back to it until towards the end.  Back when you had to physically look at books in a bookstore to see what they were, I would open a book to random places in the middle and purposely avoid that irritating "exciting first part, so now you want to buy it, right?" section on the first page.

   All of that said, I do feel there is very important content in this, so I'll mention it at the top - kind of contradicting what I just said, but, hey, "rules are made to be broken", as in rules are for reasons, and in this case there is a compelling reason to preview the story a little.  OK!  Here it is:  I met an older woman on that night under the tracks at a yakitori izakaya who lived through the bombing of Tokyo.  All of her friends were killed... only she survived and considering more people died in one night in the fire-bombing of Tokyo than died in the bombing of Hiroshima, there were not many eye-witnesses left.

   Well, enough preamble, let's go back to Friday, November 28th, 1997.  I wrote the text back then on a laptop computer while on trains going from one place to another that day (for work), which is why (before some paragraphs) it says "on the train" and "on the train again", etc.   Some parts were hand-written (like my observations at the restaurant or while standing) and typed up later on a computer, either on a train with the laptop or (more often) at home on a desktop machine.

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"Under the Tracks..."

97/11/28 Friday  5:15 p.m. Keihin-Tohoku Line

   After a work-related meeting in Nezu, I took the Chiyoda Line to Hibiya, where I walked over to Ginza to buy a new schedule book.  On the way over, in Yurakucho, I saw the employees of an under-track drinking place cutting up meat, probably for yakitori (grilled chicken on a stick)...  I thought of stopping by later on when I saw it.  Now I’m on the train from Omori and I’m wondering if I should just go home... or if I should have a beer in Yurakucho first... maybe I’ll try having just one....

   7:10 p.m. - Well, I made it to the place I wanted to come to.  I almost gave it up mid-way.  What is the purpose to being shy anyway?  Is it some kind of self-protective instinct to keep oneself out of trouble?  Or just a barrier to overcome to become a stronger person?  Whatever.  I was on my way to Ito-ya in Ginza to look at possible Christmas presents, when it occurred to me that I hadn’t yet called the factory I work at on Mondays to double check that there would be a meeting on Monday, and to ask if it was alright to wait until then to give them my bill for the calendar month of November.  So I stopped on a side street, pulled out the new cell phone, and called.  The meeting is on for Monday, and they wanted me to fax them the bill today if I could.  Figuring MD would be the best bet for connecting to the power grid, I went to a nearby MD, ordered a set to keep the counter person happy, and went to the second floor.  Unlike most MD restaurants however, grid connectors were very scarce, but I managed to locate one in a corner.  Only problem being that people were already sitting there.  I sat down at a table next to a small lamp, thinking that there might be a grid connector nearby for it, so I asked the women sitting at the next table if, by chance, their coats might be covering one.  They moved their stuff to look, but alas!, no grid connector.  One of them suggested asking an employee about it(!).  I said the employees might not be helpful with that, and they concurred.  The table next to the power table opened up, so I grabbed it, and saying “Sorry for the trouble...” (in Japanese), to the two smokers there, strung an extension cord over their heads and then down along the base of the window to my table.  Powering up the computer, I typed in the details for November’s bill, and as I was sending it off (more trouble with the MSN software trying to hook me up to the Internet), the woman I had asked to move her coat walked by on her way to the restroom... and... when she came back, she had changed out of the dress she was wearing into very tight, and very short shorts....  More beautiful legs have my eyes not seen.

   Anyway, I got the bill faxed to Tokorozawa, confirmed that they received it, and walked over to the place under the tracks where the employees had been cutting up the meat for yakitori (some of which is in front of me now) earlier in the day.  This is obviously a popular spot.  All the seats are taken and the staff keep turning people away.  The atmosphere is one from the past... the trains rumble overhead... the air is thick with the smoke from the grills on both sides of the open tunnel-like underpass beneath the tracks... a very informal atmosphere... friends together drinking and eating yakitori, the voices bounce off the arch of the concrete roof that is supporting the Yamanote Line, the Keihin-Tohoku Line, and the Tokaido Line.  Another train goes by, shaking the ground and making a rumble in the tunnel... a tourist is earnestly videotaping the scene.  The man on my left and the one on my right keep bumping into me with their knees and elbows (tight seating)... no florescent light glare, only the warm yellow light from incandescent bulbs.

   It may just be my imagination, but I imagine places like this were frequented by the older members of the crowd even thirty years ago with almost no change.  As I sit here I seem to feel the spirit of “Work hard by day, and unwind with friends in the evening smoke under the tracks with the industrial music of the steel trains rumbling overhead...”  Does that make sense?  I feel it as I write this, but I’m not sure how to convey it.  It’s a ninety percent male crowd, and I’m the only foreigner.  Maybe that was the source of my weak knees when coming here.  It feels very Japanese... I’m physically here... and I can feel the atmosphere... I can empathize with those around me... but I am not “of” the crowd with my different face.  No matter.  I want to just be an observer right now.  Community spirit....  This atmosphere is one of the things I like about Tokyo.  Every year I’ve walked through this tunnel soaking up the atmosphere, wanting to stop for a drink, yet in thirteen years, this is the first time.  I did try two times before, but it was full, and I ended up going to another place off to the side.  I can see from the faces of the stream of pedestrians walking through the tunnel that many like the atmosphere, and want to join in.  Why do, or how do Japanese work so hard?  This is one answer perhaps.  The joy of industrialization... I spend most of my time in Tokyo hating the steel and concrete, but here, under the tracks... it seems like a great thing....

   Two women just sat next to me as soon as the two men formerly occupying those seats stood up... I can tell you the odds against that happening are huge!!  Phew!  Finally I’ll get a break from the guy who kept banging his right knee and elbow into me.  Women are great!  They’re not nearly as obnoxious as too many men are...  Ah... but now the old atmosphere has seemingly drifted away!  Indeed I can’t quite imagine these two next to me being here thirty years ago... (one of them probably wasn’t born yet then...).

   Enough for now!  I’m putting away my new notebook and old pen!  Talk to you later!

   20:20...   20:45.  Just as I was about to start writing something.....  Ah! Yes!  I was going to say that “No, I’m not signing off so I can try to pick up the women next to me, but rather I just want to.....

   21:46 - I was going to say that I just wanted to soak up the atmosphere...  Ah... there’s so much to say... so much to say now....  I just paid my bill, and am standing under the sky next to the tunnel.  I talked with an older man, an older woman, and the two women who sat next to me.  I have A LOT to say... or rather I have a lot to convey from the conversations I had....  I said I wasn’t a part of the scene?  I take it back.  I was definitely a part of the scene tonight.  But then again, I’ve got alcohol in the system, and I want to think... I want to feel....  I’ll write about my conversations later.

   22:23 - In the Yamanote Line....  Feeling so much....  I wish I could convey to you all I have heard and felt tonight....  I’ll try later.

   97/11/29 Saturday  16:06  (on the train) - I’m on my way to a job in Ebisu now.  I hadn’t thought I’d drunk so much, but judging by how I felt this morning, those few drinks I ordered must have been stronger than I thought.  The conversations at the time seemed to take a long time, but I think I can sum them up fairly quickly.

   First, the older guy.  I got started talking to him because he started talking to the two women who sat by me.  He said something like “I know a good place near here... let’s go...”, and as he was being persistent, and they obviously didn’t want to talk to him, I said “I can understand your wanting to approach them, but they don’t want to hear it.”...  Just one sentence, but I had determined to do whatever was necessary to stop him, so the one sentence had a great effect on him.  Before I knew it, we were talking about Japan.  He said “Japan’s a real mess right now”, and I said “Naw.., the trouble with the banks is just a temporary thing... whatever is happening with the economy, Japan has the best factories in the world.  Not only that, but due in large measure to Japan’s influence, factories in the US and in Europe are vastly improved over what they were just a couple of decades ago.  Whatever else is happening, this is truly something Japan should be proud of.”  After that, he asked how long I’d been in Japan.  Hearing thirteen years he said “You must have had a difficult time”......  I allowed that there had indeed been difficult times, but that it’s the same for anyone going off alone to live in a foreign country....

   After we’d talked for about fifteen minutes, I started to beam out “OK.  That’s about enough I think”, and coincidentally or not, he wrapped it up, extended his hand, and as we shook hands, he said “We’re friends”... I concurred, and he went back to his table.  I looked over at the two women and said “He’s a talker!”.  We laughed, and they went back to their conversation and I to my thoughts....

   After a little, I looked over to my right and saw that an older woman was now sitting next to me.., I thought “How about that!  In this sea of men, I’ve got women sitting on both sides of me!”  After looking around at the people working... I imagined what it must be like for them.  I watched the woman I had seen earlier in the day cutting up meat working in the back... the counter guy filling beer mugs... then I heard English to the right, and looking over, I noticed a foreigner sitting on the other side of the older woman.  Being the only two foreigners in the crowd, I thought it was funny how she had ended up being sandwiched between us, so I leaned over and said “You’re sandwiched between foreigners, aren’t you!?”  She offered to move, and I explained that I didn’t want to sit next to the other guy, I just thought that her position was funny.  She apologized for not realizing that I was a foreigner, since I had been speaking Japanese to the older guy, and I told her I considered that an honor, as it’s proof that my Japanese isn’t too horrible.  And then... an amazing story:

   It all started when she told me that the underpass under the tracks hadn’t changed in over fifty years.  I said that, as a matter of fact, I’d just been imagining the place in the fifties....  The next thing I knew, she was telling me about 1945, when Tokyo was bombed almost on a daily basis....  Now I’ve met a lot of people who lived in Tokyo up until the bombing began, but she’s the first person I’ve talked to who lived right through the thick of the bombing.  The other people I’ve talked to, either lived on the outskirts of the city, escaping the bombing, or went off into the country somewhere to get away from it.  The father of a woman I used to work with was sent, as a baby, to stay with relatives in the country, and then his entire family died in Tokyo.  He was the only one left....

   Anyway, the woman started by explaining that the underpass drinking places began at the end of the war, when most of the city was burned flat, so the underpass was a handy spot with the arch under the tracks forming a roof.  During the occupation, American servicemen and Japanese drank there side by side.  She said that the atmosphere hadn’t changed at all, but the clothes of the customers were different.  Now, most of the customers wear suits, but back then, people weren’t dressed so nicely.  She asked me about my Japanese ability, and I said that while I can speak reasonably well, my reading ability isn’t so great.  “Don’t you think ‘Kanji’ are difficult to learn?” I asked her.

   19:25  (on the train again) - She told me that when she was eight, her school was burned down in the firebombing....  I think she probably meant to go on to saying that because of that, there’s a gap in her education, but we ended up just talking about what it was like to be in Tokyo at that time.  As she described how her father had his family soak the futons with water to be used a protective cover from the fire, and even as covers for their feet, since the very ground was aflame in the attacks.  How people jumped into rivers for protection, only to be boiled alive because the water was so hot.  (I’m reluctant to get onto this topic, because any talk about war inflames passions... so I hasten to say that I’m writing this just to describe her reality when she was eight...)  She said that when planes were shot down, the people who parachuted were machine gunned before reaching the ground.  Seeing men falling from the sky, many citizens, knowing the men would die, prayed for them.., that people felt more sorry for them than angry.  Having been through all that, no wonder the woman talked of Americans and Japanese drinking side by side under the tracks with a tone suggesting that it was a wonderful thing.....

   Shortly before she took her leave of the place, she told me that all her friends died in the bombing... that only she was left, and that she periodically goes to the place under the tracks alone for a drink just for nostalgic reasons....  I nodded goodbye to her as she disappeared through the smoke of the grills.....

   What next?  But of course, talk to the two women still on my left.  I told them about the older woman’s tale, and then we had a conversation not unlike hundreds I’ve had before.  They were both 21, and students at an Interior Design School.  One from Niigata, and the other from south of Osaka (I forget the name).  The woman from Osaka looked over thirty, so I was quite surprised to hear she was only 21.  Being students, they nursed their one drink apiece for too long, and eventually, the guy working the counter, while apologizing to be saying so, asked them to either order something, or to please make way for waiting customers.  He apologized again, saying “Sorry, but it’s Friday night after all...”  I gave them my e-mail addresses, and they disappeared into the night....

   It’s been happening to me for thirteen years now... I meet people once, and that’s the end... I never see or hear from them again....

   And that’s the story really.  I ended up having a long and forgettable conversation with a guy on the Yamanote Line on the way home.....  Thinking back on it now, I can’t believe how much talking I did last night.  Yow........

   Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon - Nishi-Shinjuku, Tokyo - November 29th, 1997

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   From August 2020:

   Note-1: Regarding: "Figuring MD would be the best bet for connecting to the power grid..."  This looks mysterious in the year 2020 (when people are never away from their fondle slabs which are on-line 24 hours a day) for at least two reasons.  One is that I needed somewhere where I could not only pull out my (rather bulky by today's standards) laptop computer, and the other that I often needed to plug it into AC power as the nickel-metal-hydride battery, while much better than the nickel-cadmium batteries that preceded it, still didn't have nearly the lifespan that modern lithium-ion batteries do.  I was using (as usual) a cheap used computer, and the battery would only power the machine for 30 minutes or so.  I was happy that I could use the battery at all, as the used machines I'd bought before then had useless worn-out batteries, but in any case, back on that day in 1997, I needed to connect to an AC outlet (not supplied for people as they often are now) in order to get an invoice filled out and faxed.

   Note-2: Faxing things from the laptop computer.  As I remember it, this wasn't a standard feature of W-95, but I had (I think) installed an application that enabled faxing documents through my cell phone, which is also how I connected to the Internet when outside.

   Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon - www5d.biglobe.ne.jp/~LLLtrs/ - youtube.com/lylehsaxon - lylehsaxon.blogspot.jp/ - lookback1997.blogspot.jp/

Saturday, August 08, 2020

One Wednesday in 1997 Tokyo (1997/2020)

A quick intro from 2020.  The following was written as I went about Tokyo for work reasons on a Wednesday in 1997.  It was written partly directly into a laptop computer I carried with me everywhere, and partly by hand (pen on paper) while going about when it wasn't convenient to take the laptop out (while standing on a train, for example).  And some of the handwritten parts were then typed up on my desktop computer at home.  1997 was a period just after I left my Nikon FM2 on the Yamanote Line and someone (apparently) made off with it.  After getting used to the Nikon FM2, I didn't want to use a junk camera, but couldn't afford another FM2 at the time, so for a few years I went without a camera and recorded things with text.  Rereading my text from my camera-less time now, I see that - ironically - often I was recording much more with text than I would have been with images.  There's that saying "A picture is worth a thousand words", but - in a sense - for some things you might say "A page of well-written text is worth a thousand pictures".  (The photo I'm using as an illustration for going about in Tokyo was taken on May 9th, 2000, when I had resumed recording Tokyo with images.)  LHS - 2020/08/08

Uehara  97/11/12  15:05

   I’m in Uehara now, sitting in the outside section of a coffee shop in front of Yoyogi-Uehara Station.  This is one of the “classier” areas of Tokyo, with fashionable people and foreign cars.  It’s cool today (the weather that is), but not downright cold, so it feels pretty good sitting outside.  The coffee comes... with the handle facing 90 degrees to my left... I watched an educational video last year (in Japanese, intended for a Japanese audience) in which an old man explained about various Japanese customs (people here have to learn them too, and not just by osmosis).  He explained the reason for turning the cup in the Japanese tea ceremony.  When there’s a beautiful picture on one side of the cup, you pick up the cup, admire the beautiful picture, and then carefully turn the cup so that you don’t put your mouth on the picture.  After taking a sip, you turn it again so you can see the art as the cup sits in front of you.  The old man went on to say that in the Meiji Era, when three was the sudden influx of Western things, even though there was (is) no particular reason to turn the cup anymore (since the design is uniform all the way around), from force of habit, people continued to do so.  He suggested that it’s perfectly acceptable to serve Western tea with the handle facing to the right.

   After watching that video, I tried asking people about whether the handle should face to the right or the left, and got all kinds of answers.  The largest number of people said it should face to the left, followed by people who said to the right, and finally people who admitted that they had no idea. “Ah... this is why the video was made!” thought I....

   Since then, I’ve noticed that I seem to get the cup facing right or left, and more commonly facing left at expensive places like the one I’m at now (Y500 for one cup).  Occasionally the handle is facing some odd angle, but that’s rude.

   As I sit here drinking my coffee, sitting behind potted plants, breathing cigarette smoke from the two smokers sitting in close proximity, looking at the concrete mass of the elevated tracks and station in front of me, people coming and going from the entrance.  I wonder at the ability to feel happy only because there are a few potted plants around me.  Selective vision....  Not “What’s wrong with this picture?”, but “What’s right with this picture?”.  Once you get to the point where you expect most things to be ugly, you can take great pleasure from beauty in the midst of a drab city street.

   The couple next to me.  Cell phones on the table, two packs of Marlboro Lights, an ashtray with, ah... let’s see... about nine cigarette butts, man wearing baseball cap with visor facing behind, woman in very short mini-skirt (distracting).  I had to ask the woman to move her bag, which had been on the chair of the table next to theirs, where I am sitting now - no apology - and her “oshibori” (wet hand-towel) is still on my table....  I’m happy that the young generation is less stiffly formal, but it would be nice if civility would remain behind as old customs go their way.

   The man, after calling out “Simasen” (Excuse me) towards the waitress for awhile, finally went inside to pay as the woman wondered off towards the station without even turning her head.  I watched her walk off into the station - a slow, deliberate walk - no backwards glance.  The man came out and, looking at me, said “Mendokusai”, which your Japanese-English dictionary would probably define as “troublesome; annoying; etc.”, but carries a broader definition than that.

   There are several Japanese words that carry a broad and substantial meaning, enabling you to convey a multi-dimensional feeling to someone with a single word.  What would you think in the situation above if the man came out and said (in English) just “Irritating!”?  I might be tempted to say “What?  The coffee shop?  The woman?  Some combination of the two?”, but in Japanese, he looked at me, said “Mendokusai”, and I knew without question that he meant the woman.  I said (in Japanese) “Well, she’s beautiful, so I guess you just have to put up with it”, to which he said “No, she’s just... mendokusai!”, and headed off to the station himself, at a slightly faster than leisurely pace.

   Hmm... if you have confidence in what you’re doing, it’s OK to wear it, and the language is structured in such a way that you generally have to talk either up, or down, but rarely can you talk straight across.  (Well... you can talk almost straight across, but there’s usually at least a slight tilt built into the words.)

   At the job site I was just at, I was telling someone not to attempt to draw exact parallels in Japanese word for word with English.  Even between native speakers of a language, the words are only representatives of thoughts, so if you start with words as a base, you can only go wrong... you have to start at the source - before words - then you have at least a small chance of conveying what it is you’re thinking of.

   Well then!  It’s about time to head over to Akasaka..

   (That was the idea, but as I left, I noticed a sign saying “Uehara Park”, so I asked the waitress if it was far, and she explained where it was, but had a certain look on her face, so I asked her what was there, if it was an interesting park, and she recommended going to a different park, which I did.)


Nishihara  16:47

   The evening sky of pale blue and orangeish-pink through the baseball diamond chain link fence is quite beautiful.  Again I find my seat next to a smoking couple (cigarette smoking that is).  “I have to get going” the woman says, and they wander off together below the trees.  Trees....  This area is very nice - large houses on hills with real yards - I imagine myself happily living in one....

   Yoyogi-Uehara - not just an empty image - the place really is nice.

   Well, bye!  I’m going to soak up the twilight a little before getting on the subway.


Chiyoda Line  17:17

   I walked through the park after that, the trees with colorful leaves, the sound of children happily playing in the twilight, memories of childhood autumns long ago... a Porsche 928 rumbles slowly, smoothly up a hill... I watch it until the glowing taillights disappear over the crest of the hill.  With the aid of my Tokyo street map (68 fold-out pages), I find the correct direction to the station (after wandering the wrong way in the maze that the streets are).  As the station nears, the Tokyo I know too well comes back to me.  I flatten myself against a wall behind a concrete utility pole so a car can pass.  I climb the stairs to the station, go through the gate using my magnetic ticket with Vincent van Gogh’s Almond Blossoms printed on one side (nice picture, beautiful colors...).....  I climb more stairs to the elevated platform and buy a pack of Clorets candy... the woman explains that it’s only 100 yen, and that you don’t have to pay the 5% tax at the Odakyu kiosks, but you do at the kiosks run by the subway system on the other platform.....

   And in the time it took to write that, I have arrived at Kokkaigidomae (only six characters in Japanese) Station.


Akasaka  18:04

   I’m now in a windowless, airless meeting room at a large American company in Central Tokyo, awaiting the people I came to meet....


Nihonbashi Station  23:50

   I’m sitting here worrying a bit, wondering if I can make the connection to the last train.

   Earlier in the day in Ginza, I was invited me into the office from the conference room, and I sat at a desk on the other side of an acquaintance who just got a new computer.  I ran back and froth from my own computer (exploring how to use Netscape) to his computer (which he began using just today), showing him how to do different things with e-mail.  We sent each other e-mail (all the way across the desks... amazing stuff, technology) while trying out our respective new e-mail systems.

   Jumping back to Akasaka, I heard an amazing story from someone I had sent an e-mail to, best explained with the following letter (uncorrected):


Lyle

   Thank you for your email.

   We had an email trouble caused by your today's email.  In my case, the trouble was that I couldn't send and received any email, and the email system (MS-Mail) displayed Mail SPL Error message.  I asked for what happened to my email-box to a system administrator who is responsible for our company's email system.  The answer from her was your email was not acceptable with our system and also made other email to me delayed.  As she deleted your email to solve this trouble I can send this letter to you.  Could you tell us either machine and either address caused this error?

   I am afraid I cannot come to the meeting today because I am not in good condition.  I will hear your talking from Nantoka-san tomorrow.

   Thank you,

Hanako Dareka


Incredible huh!!?  After hearing from three people that they lost their address books after loading the new MSN software, plus my problems of repeated system error induced computer shutdowns when Outlook Express is open, my sudden inability to send e-mail from my laptop computer, and now this.  I think there’s a serious problem with MS’s newest e-mail software.  (Using newly purchased Netscape Navigator, I’m able to send e-mail again from the laptop by the way.....)


Back to Ginza.

   My acquaintance and I were successful with most of the stuff we were trying to do, but one strange thing happened that I’m hoping was just a simple “pushed the wrong button” mistake on my part.  Two messages that I sent to him went through, but the message part was blank!!  If this ever happens with mail from me, then please let me know.  (I know, I know, if it happens with this letter, you won’t be able to read this.)

   Well... as I sit on this late night Tozai Line train with 92.3% men, I sign off.


Inside the last train  12:30 a.m.

   On the last train now.  I'm standing in front of three, count ‘em, three people in a row (sitting), talking on their cell phones.  One of them is wired for sound with headphones around her neck.  This display of technology brings to mind my own self an hour ago, sitting in an office in Ginza, drinking Chivas Regal, and sending e-mail to the States, the UK, and across the desks within the office.

   The guy right in front of me on the phone:

   “It’s late, and... ‘hic’... I’m on the train.....  I’ll call... ‘hic’... tomorrow...”

   No joke!  The guy really is hic-upping as he speaks!  In my Chivas-induced glow, I don’t even try to kill my laughter.

   Oops...  I said before I was signing off, didn’t I?  Oh well, this is hand written, but I’ll pound it into electrons later.


Good-night!


Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon

www5d.biglobe.ne.jp/~LLLtrs/

youtube.com/lylehsaxon

lylehsaxon.blogspot.jp/

lookback1997.blogspot.jp/


(2020) Formatting question here - Why is it considered necessary to have word processing programs auto-mutate carefully formatted text by dumping in extra hard returns here and there?  Hard returns automatically inserted between lines of text with (intentionally) no spacing between lines (creating double spacing against the will of the author) and then triple hard returns between paragraphs (creating hideously huge spaces between paragraphs).  The process seems clear - if you have a single hard return after a line, the software makes that two hard returns (so you get a space between lines you didn't want a space between) and if you have two hard returns after a block of text (to get one line of space between paragraphs) it adds two more hard returns so you get triple spacing.  Why in God's name is this auto-mutating of text considered a good thing?  Is there some way to turn off auto-mutate and control line spacing yourself?

Friday, May 29, 2020

“In Tokyo” - June 1997 (+2020)

(2020) - Another look back at something I wrote in 1997 and sent to a few people by e-mail at the time.  Not really much preamble needed for this one....

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“In Tokyo” - June 1997

This one is a little bit odd perhaps.  I wrote it with the intention of it’s being something like a diary, and ended up with impressions.  I had intended to just write about what was happening in a regular style, but the result is something like a poem.  In all honesty, I’m slightly embarrassed to send this out, but the feelings were real enough, so I think it’s valid.... 

June 25th, 1997 - Wednesday 20:20
Shibuya Rooftop Beer Garden

   The beginning of summer.  The temperature is just right, with a light breeze blowing up here on the roof.  I say the beginning of summer, but it’s already June 25th!!
   I think... I need a trip.
   I’m sitting here... feeling many things... there’s a desire to write, but what?
   Time.  I came to Japan in August 1984.  Everything was so different, the adventure of just living was enough.  It didn’t matter if it was a twenty minute hike to the station and it took two hours to get to the Japanese language school I was going to in central Tokyo.  It didn’t matter because the whole thing was an adventure, and just surviving an adventure is enough.
   But, at the end of 1995, I realized... I saw... I felt my old self.  The man in San Francisco standing by the ocean, wondering about mysterious foreign lands on the other side.  The sound of the always in-motion cable car cables underfoot on an empty evening street.  The mystery of China Town, and my passion for photography.  A general passion for life....

June 26th, 1997 - Thursday 1:15 p.m.
Joban Line

   I’m on my way to Kashiwa.  If all my train rides were like this one, life would be more enjoyable!  There are actually empty seats on this train!
   Outside the train, through the window, I watch the jumble of wires and buildings slip by beneath a beautiful sky of light blue and white....
   Early this morning I sent out some “Looking for e-mail pals” letters, and just before heading out, I checked for mail and found:

One letter from a cousin.
Two letters from new e-mail pals.
And.....................
One piece of racist hate mail.

   I’m a little depressed about getting it, but after all, I’ve sent out a lot of letters, and this is the first time I’ve gotten something like this.  Some people are dangerously crazy, but hopefully their numbers are few.
   I’ve never had this particular brand of racism directed against me before, because I’m an outsider here.  It’s strange, interesting, and eye opening to have this particular poison aimed at me.  I’ve asked Japanese friends about their experiences with racism overseas, and mostly, if they’ve had bad experiences, they just say that they’ve had trouble before, but don’t (won’t) elaborate.  But since I’m Japanese now (apparently), now I know.
   Unfortunately, there’s racism in every country, but sometimes when you experience it far from home, you forget about the evil people you left behind in the old country.
   But enough on that topic!
   I’m almost to Kashiwa.  I’ll try checking for new e-mail at a public phone there.

Ginza 18:42

   Another beautiful sky.  A jet flies by up very high, leaving a trail only where it passes through a light cloud.  Flying...  The clouds lit with the sun low in the sky.  The city is drifting towards evening and night, but the sky is still one of a summer day.  The city below, so... so... city.  The sky... so beautiful.
   A sound-truck drives by with marital music blasting from huge horn speakers facing in all directions.  A bone chilling wind blows over my warm mood.  A feeling of sadness.  I wonder - what would the sound truck men and the evil creature who sent me racist hate mail do if they were locked into the same room together...?
   I watch the sky...  Evening colors are seeping into the clouds...  The sound assault truck gone, my spirits pick up again....
   Now it is unmistakably the edge of evening, and I must be back at work very soon.  My thoughts go to you, the reader.  What do you think?  Does this day of mine seem to have some meaning?  Let me know if you would, please, for my weeks are too much the same.  Every day is different, but what I’m doing is more or less the same.  Or so it seems to me... and to you?

Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon
June 26th, 1997
Ginza, Tokyo

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(2020)  Rereading this now, I remember the time delay in getting a response to something I wrote back then.  I would send out something via e-mail and then get some responses to it via e-mail replies over the following days.  Now there's the "Like" count or "heart mark" count.  Writing before was a speedy version of old-form letters.  How we toss text back and forth now is something else altogether.  The 1997 text I edited slightly, but it's 97% the way I wrote it back in 1997.

Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon
www5d.biglobe.ne.jp/~LLLtrs/
youtube.com/lylehsaxon
lylehsaxon.blogspot.jp/
lookback1997.blogspot.jp/

Tuesday, May 26, 2020

1997と2020 - Recording Methods Over the Years

(2020) The first electronic word processing machine I bought was (unfortunately) a dedicated word processor.  I say "unfortunately" because while the machine worked well enough and was useful, the data I saved to floppies is now unreadable and it delayed my entry to computing (outside of school and then work).  I bought my first used computer in 1995, and then a second machine in 1996, but both of those computers were too under-powered to get onto the Internet, so for my third computer, bought in late 1996, I bought an old-stock new machine that had just enough power to get on-line.  The first two machines weren't a complete waste of money though, as I used them as word processors and they were immeasurably more powerful tools for that than the 1980's word processor I had been using.
   Right at the end of 1996, I began to realize what a fantastic machine an Internet-connected computer was for communicating long-distance.  (Recently, I'm beginning to see the drawbacks to that, but that's another story.)  So, heading into 1997, I used the machine a lot for writing and exchanging text messages with people residing in other parts of the world.  This was before FaceBook, Twitter, etc., and so there were only chat rooms, or e-mail.  I briefly spent some time in chat rooms, but abandoned those in favor of e-mail (starting with a small group of people I had met in chat rooms).
   I go into that history as part of the history of how I have attempted to record things.  How I've recorded things has been dictated by time and tools, and what tools I've worked with has been dictated by the technology available at the time and by my (generally limited) financial resources to acquire things.  The basic timeline of how I've recorded things is as follows:

Early Days-1990 - Single image photography via SLR 35mm cameras.
1990-1993 - Analog video (digital sound, some in mono, but most in stereo).
1993-1996 - Single image photography via SLR 35mm camera.
1996-2000 - Text, either hand-written or typed into a computer.
2000-2006 - Single image photography via digital cameras.
2007-Present - Mix of single image digital photography and digital video.

   The 1996-2000 period stands out as the only time I was not recording images with some sort of camera.  I accidentally left my Nikon FM2 on the Yamanote Line in 1996 (I reported it to the police, but it never returned) and I didn't have enough financial resources to replace it with another good camera, so I decided to just go without a camera for a while and record things in words.  Finally!  We come to the reason for all of the above text!  All of this preamble is to explain why I have zero photographic images from 1997 to 2000, but do have text.  Only text.  And I recently dug out of the back corners of a hard drive some of the things I sent to a select group of people via e-mail in 1997, but didn't put into a blog.  (I don't think I did anyway, enough time has passed since I started blogging that I might have put something up and forgotten about it.)
   In any event, it was kind of a special time for me, as I found it relaxing to go somewhere, stop, pull out a notebook (or batch of folded paper) and pen, and calmly write - having only words to record what I was seeing, hearing, experiencing....  As I got into computing, I began carrying a laptop computer with me and writing with that, but that was contingent on having somewhere to sit down and since my equipment was using a pre-lithium-ion battery, it didn't run for long between charges, so if I wanted to spend any time writing, I usually needed to plug it in.  These days, coffee shops and fast food places know their fondle-slab loving customers are much more likely to be there if they can plug in their devices, so there is an outlet by every seat, but in 1997, AC outlets were generally to plug in vacuum cleaners and were few and far between.
   One last note about the timeline I wrote above (scroll up...).  That is to show my primary method of recording street scenes, etc., and the 1996-2000 period was exclusively text (with the exception of some junk camera pictures taken to record people events, but nothing suitable for posting), but text has been an ongoing thing.  It's never been only pictures - you have to explain the pictures with words after all.  That's why I didn't mind going to all text for awhile - I was already used to recording things that way in combination with images, so it wasn't too big of a jump to just go to only text.
   OK!  And finally we come to something I wrote back in 1997 - on June 7th and June 9th - partly by hand and partly straight into my laptop computer (edited):

“What to Write...” - June 7th, 1997

(Handwritten)  Here I sit, on a train heading to my first job of the day....

I was just thinking, wondering - what to write about.  This morning I was thinking that maybe I spend too much time on E-mail, but I realize, as I sit here on this train, that I really need that interaction, and far from interfering with my writing, it’s the spark that sets off a storm of ideas.
   Several hours pass....

(The following written with my laptop in Shinjuku at Kinokuniya Book Store in “Times Square”......)

   I’ll just start writing something, and see where it leads me.  But first, as I only have about twenty minutes before I have to be back at work, I should describe my surroundings right now.
   I’m sitting in a line of young woman who are all holding copies of a new book by a comedy pair (a man and a woman) who call themselves Bakusho Mondai  (爆笑問題).  They’re waiting in line to get their books signed by the authors.  So, what am I doing here?  The reason is simple my friends, I’m here for the grid.  I was walking along, and I felt a sudden desire to start writing this after seeing something that inspired me.
   Anyway, I was walking along thinking “Even if I pull out the laptop in the bookstore by the public phones, the battery will go dead on me before I can get much written.  What to do, what to do....”  And I remembered that outside of this department store in Shinjuku, there are grid connectors (probably there for cleaning), so when I saw that a convenient looking one was right in the middle of a line, I walked up to the two women who were sitting on either side of it, and asked them if I could sit between them so I could plug my computer in, and they didn’t mind, so here I am.
   I asked the nice woman next to me if she wanted to say something to everyone, and after thinking awhile, she said:

“Chikyu ni yasashiku ikiyo.”

First, a direct translation:
“Let’s live on Earth kindly.”

And a more natural sounding translation:
“Let’s take care of the Earth.”

Now I’m out of time!  I’ll be back when I get a chance!

(1997/06/09)  I spent most of yesterday at Showa Kinen Koen, which is a very nice park, but it cost about eight dollars to park, and four dollars to get in, so it’s not the kind of park you just wander into.  Since a lot of financial power is there for the park though, it really is quite nice inside.
   Yesterday was a perfect picture of people relaxing on a Sunday in the park.  The only odd thing was the constant sight and sound of helicopters flying overhead, but living in Tokyo you learn to tune out what you don’t want to hear or see -  particularly what you don’t want to hear!  I can listen to classical music with the window open and construction only two houses down, and the hammering doesn’t even invade the music in my mind... unless I start thinking that it’s strange that it doesn’t, and that thought puts the noise in mind until I can empty my thoughts again.  There’s something to be said for not thinking sometimes... or not thinking rationally anyway.

(2020)  Thinking about this post while going over it just before putting it on-line, I realized/remembered another element to the text-only period.  It exactly coincided with my text-only Internet usage.  I was using (as were most people at the time) a slow and expensive dial-up connection and sending photos was a sure way of making people angry!  Myself included actually.  I really hated it when someone sent something heavy, since I was paying per minute for time on-line, I didn't appreciate having to wait several minutes for a single photo to download.  So partly I was thinking at the time that all I could use was text anyway, so I might as well go without photos for a while.  The text-only period was interesting, but when I got my first digital camera in 2000, it sure did feel good to be taking pictures again!

Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon
www5d.biglobe.ne.jp/~LLLtrs/
youtube.com/lylehsaxon
lylehsaxon.blogspot.jp/
lookback1997.blogspot.jp/
tokyoht.blogspot.jp/

Friday, May 08, 2020

2000年5月 元玉川上水の散歩

I stumbled onto this scene on May 2nd, 2000.  It had a feel of history and mystery to it, and a tranquility, accented with a feeling of risk... "Is it okay to go down there...?" I wondered.  What was this wonderful green space - clearly a former path for water - doing hiding in the center of Tokyo?
I later met someone living in the area and they told me it was the former path of the Kanda River, which I believed until (years later) discovering an old map upon which it was clearly labeled as being part of the Tamagawa Canal.  I've found since then (when trying to learn about the history of other things), that people are often mistaken, and some (many?) just make stuff up.  And this for not very old history - the kind where you can discover the truth fairly easily with a little time invested in research.  It makes me wonder how accurate historical accounts of things are....
This is how my unexpected adventure (a simple enough experience, but it felt like an adventure) began.  I looked down this street and thought "I wonder what's down there at the end of the road?"  When I got down there, I walked over the foundations of a house that had been recently(?) demolished and discovered these stairs leading down into the former waterway.
I hadn't planned on going down there - in fact I was running shy on time, as I had to get back to work, but the area was inviting and interesting, so I walked down the stairs, thinking "I guess this was whoever lived in the missing house's private access...."
A contributing factor to pushing ahead was the path through the grass.  Clearly, the area was accessed enough by others to make that path, so presumably it would be okay to walk down it and see where it went.
As I walked along, I kept looking over at the houses and apartments on one side (with a park on the other side, over the high fence) and thinking how nice it must be to live in a convenient area in central Tokyo with all that tranquil green on one side....
As I walked along, I daydreamed about living in one place or another, and wondered what had happened to the missing water.  I wasn't afraid of any creatures in the grass, but since this time (in 2000), I've been stung by one of those giant centipedes, come face-to-face with one of those giant wasps, and come across snakes on three different occasions - including coming within inches of stepping on a poisonous one that was lying on a mountain road I was walking on.
And so, the more time goes by, the more I have become leery of tall grass and lots of green.  Being right in the middle of Tokyo, this strip of green was probably about as safe as it gets, but if I stumbled upon something like this now, I would be more reluctant to go marching through the tall grass.
That said, stretches like this with the grass not so tall and the path fairly wide look safe enough.
That apartment building makes me wonder all over again what it would be like to live there.  To come home via typical Tokyo streets and then go out on the balcony for a look at all that tranquil green.
Residences along this former waterway must be quite expensive.  Looking at these pictures and remembering the walk, I recall one house in particular that looked like it would be perfect to live in.
It was high up above a section of that concrete retaining wall with a decent sized yard and enough setback from the edge that you wouldn't worry about it tumbling over that artificial cliff in an earthquake.  It looked really ideal and I imagining living there and having a backyard party in the spring (too hot in the summer).
Oh, and there was this compact tent!  I wondered who was camping there.  It could be a good spot, but out of sight of people who would chase you away is also out of sight of people who could help if someone attacked.
I may have been daydreaming about other things as well, but I remember it as a time focused on the ambiance of the space with the unanswered question (unanswered at the time that is, I know now) about the history of the waterway and continually imagining how it would be to live in one place or another.
There were some older wooden houses quite near the path, and while they looked cozy, they also seemed a bit exposed. Probably there would be some nervousness living there - like living in the wilderness somewhere.
Which is why the houses and apartments up high above the space seemed so appealing.  Living there, you would less likely be accessing the space for a stroll, but you could see the space and not have to feel nervous about it at night.
And so where did this former waterway lead?  On this first visit, I ran out of time, but on a later visit I discovered that it didn't go much further than I had ventured.  At a road, it took a sharp turn to the right and went into a tunnel - which sounds exciting, but looking in the barred off entrance, it only went back about four or five meters to where the tunnel had been walled off.
At the time, I just figured that was the end of it, but thinking about it now, I wonder if that tunnel continued (continues?) on the other side of the wall....
There are stages to exploring something new.  First you contemplate it - wondering if you should take the risk of doing something you've never done before and going somewhere you've never been before.
Then you decide to go ahead, and you enter a new space with sharper senses, not sure what to expect.  As you progress, you begin to adjust to the new space.
As the nervousness fades, you congratulate yourself on having escaped the usual routine and begin to enjoy yourself.
Then the initial post-nervousness excitement fades, but in its place you're more relaxed and you start to tune into the new space you're in.
That state continues for some time, but unless you really belong in the new space, at some point, a feeling of lost time begins to creep in and you start to want to get back to your usual routines.
And so the journey out of a space is never as fun, exciting, and enjoyable as the trip into it.  This was a short trip, so it wasn't so noticeable, but on some long trips, the journey out into the countryside is pure fun and adventure and the trip back pure tedium.
It was a nice experience enabled by low expectations and contrast.  I hadn't been expecting to escape the typical city streets that day, so it was quite nice to suddenly be in that quiet green space.
The timing was good as well - early May, so it was a nice temperature and the green everywhere was a spring green.  This same space wouldn't have been as nice in the August heat.
It would be nice to slip back in time and see this with the water flowing.  Due to the absence of people (I didn't meet anyone at all while there) it seemed as though I could feel something from the past, but it would be nice to slip back with a camera and get some video....
And so we come to the end of the dry canal bed adventure.  I'm glad it beckoned to me from down the street that day.  The experience was better in a way than going off into the countryside for a change of pace - being unexpected and suddenly experienced as it was.  I've recalled the experience from time-to-time and enjoyed revisiting it through these pictures I took that day.  Hopefully I've conveyed something of that experience with this blog post.
Lyle (Hiroshi) Saxon
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