Changing Impressions of Japan

I started this blog with my impressions of contrasts- between Japan and France, and within Japan itself.  It’s easy to think about Japan in light of its visible contrasts, modern and traditional, insular and globalized, homogenous and multi-faceted.  In the film The Japanese Version, they explored some of these oppositions by looking at what is globalized and ‘glocalized’ in Japan.

In a sense, putting culture into oppositional categories can be useful to revealing its dynamism.  But even looking at ‘both sides’ of a culture can be limiting.  Also, in highlighting the opposition between cultures.- you are creating an impression of necessary difference.

In my anthropology theory class, we watched this video during our discussion of Orientalism. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2k4iZqbDsMs

While the video may not be directly offensive, we were asked to question the humor.

It is only implied that the mixture of Korean and Scottish is uncommon, but the humor is derived from the strangeness of the uncommon.  (And of course, stereotypes are used to create this effect).  It raises an important question~ in a highly globalized world, what is the utility of highlighting difference?  Since anthropology is very much about recognizing patterns of cultural differences and similarities, it clearly cannot be avoided altogether.  But can anthropology be responsibly represent difference that isn’t ethnocentric or superior?

Anthropology is stuffing something very BIG, into a tiny box- an ethnography, a film, a story.  I hope that this blog can be a tiny cut-away window into my experiences of Japan, as part of the larger whole that is Japanese culture.

As a result of time constraints and travel restrictions this semester, I missed out on having some of the important well-known Japanese experiences.  I didn’t go to Tokyo or Fuji or Hokkaido.  But in no way will I ever feel like I missed out on ‘Japan’.

To me, Japan has been the old apartment in the winding neighborhood, the unexpected acquaintances and the frequent Nabe dinners.  It was the street dancers, the nightlife, the parks, the food, the celebrations, and the people.  My exploration of Japan has been far from conclusive, but I have had the opportunity to observe Japan from my mimic of an ordinary daily life.  I got an apartment (that according to my Japanese friends, probably would only be rented by a foreign student), I learned how to ride a bike (better late than never,) and I got to go to college in Japan (if only an international student program).  Maybe this blog only provides a blurry window view into Japanese life, but it is the fragment as I have experienced it.  Japan can be comparable to other cultures only as a reference, but to really understand, I lived here and let the culture speak for itself.

An unlikely croud

Windows 

Watching

"Food for her is not food, it is terror, dignity, gratitude, vengeance, joyfulness, humiliation, religion, history, and, of course, love." - Jonathan Safran Foer

As another long neglected post topic…

Food ranks second to dance in importance, and is debatably more critical to my survival.  I have no future as a chef, but my love of food is still unparalleled.  Luckily, the ritual of eating frequently comes under the gaze of anthropology. 

Throughout my travels, meals have been one of the most beneficial social learning experiences.  At the table, (around the fire, on the couch, on the floor,) you quickly learn do’s and don’ts of cultural eating.

In France, one of my best learning experiences was a dinner in Strasbourg.  

A Japanese classmate invited me to a house-party dinner with some of her coworkers.  The meal was Fondue bourguignon, courtesy of an elderly French chef she had met in the supermarket.  Fondue lends itself well to a social atmosphere, as it doesn’t require just one chef.  It is cooked and consumed simultaneously by everyone at the table.  This being said, it is easy to find yourself eating for six straight hours.  During that time, I learned a lot about the rituals of Fondue, shared meals, and hospitality in France.

1.    1. Not a shocker, everyone contributes something to a dinner.  More often than not, ‘something’ is a bottle of wine.

2.    2. If there is food, its ‘faux pas’ not to keep eating until its gone.  Even if it takes significant time.

3.    3. Unique to fondue bourguignon; if you drop your meat in the oil, you are open to a dare from the other guests.  (Even adults play truth or dare.)

4.     4.The relaxed atmosphere of food and wine open the room up to honest conversation, the best time to learn from participant observation.

Of course, this blog is about JAPAN.  (Don’t worry, I didn’t forget).  So, when I came here, I was happy to find that there is a similarly useful shared meal- Japanese Nabe or Nabemono.  (Nabe meaning cooking pot, mono meaning things.)  Traditionally, Nabe or Shabu Shabu is eaten during the winter, around a kotatsu table with family or friends.  Clay or iron pots can be used on a gas heater, allowing everyone to sit around the pot and share the cooking.   Since I don't live with a host family, this is one of the best opportunities to experience Japanese meals.  Going to Nabe parties with Japanese friends, I began to draw comparisons with other shared meals.

While arguably, American rituals (oxymoron?), like summer barbeques involve social bonding, Nabe meals are significantly more intimate.  Sitting on the floor, sharing food from the same pot, eating and cooking in tandem, you get the feeling of a smaller, closer community.  There are of course, many types of Nabe, so it appeals to almost any setting or food preference.  To my unrefined understanding, it could be ‘whatever you throw in the pot,’ but watching my Japanese friends deftly prepare, I know that this isn’t quite doing the process justice.  Here is a better description of the process

http://www.bento.com/rf_nabe.html

It’s regional, its preferential… it’s cultural.  You can learn a lot about how people eat what they eat… while they eat.  Food as a mediator of social dynamics?  It's a damn good excuse to study anyway.

べつばら

Process

Kimchi Nabe

踊るあほうに観るあほう、同じあほなら踊らにゃそんそん

"We're fools whether or not we dance, so we might as well dance"

I'm finally getting around to writing about a topic that has both great personal significance and relevant to visual anthropology- dance.  The anthropology of dance is a growing branch of anthropology that examines the dance as a form of cultural knowledge.  It looks at how the choreography, representation, and social practice of dance are means to understanding identity and cultural behaviors, often relying on the visual spectacle of performance.

In Japan, my experience with dance has been quite diverse.   It's easy to find almost any kind of dance here, often in unexpected places.  For instance, Kansai Gaidai has its own flamenco club, and there is a thriving swing scene in Osaka.  And, if you happen to end up in Hirakata's Hawaiian restaurant on the right day, you may even be lucky enough to watch or participate in a hula performance. 

In Japan, the idea of dance anthropology may elicit ideas of traditional dance, which are still very present in Japanese culture.   These are easy to find in the Kansai area, such as Kyoto Maiko performances and festival dances.  A few weeks ago, Kansai Gaidai gave students the chance to see a performance of Bonodori, a traditional summer festival dance.   After the performance, students got a chance to learn the dance and participate.  This demonstrates one of the principal tenants of anthropology, that culture is learned and shared.  In a globalized world, this 'sharing' often crosses international borders. 

In light of the dynamism of Japanese culture, we can also see other forms of dance that are adopted and fitted to Japanese life.  By far one of the most interesting to me is the B-boy culture of break-dancers that practice around the train stations, notably Hirakata and Osaka.  After weeks of timidly watching the dancers practice in the stations, I got a chance to speak with them and take some photos.  While choreographed dance takes the interest of many anthropologists, it is also useful to interpret movement that is less calculated, more natural.  When you watch a practice, you see more than a finished product.  You see the progress made and the social relationships that create that are involved.

The dancers I talked to in Hirakata station have been practicing for years, and to my eye, all seemed very talented.  Some dancers go alone to practice, secluded by their headphones.  However, the students I spoke with practiced in a group, and even the audience of foreign spectators didn't seem to inspire any competition.

This is a pretty useful description of the Osaka street dancing culture:

http://www.osaka-brand.jp/en/kaleidoscope/topics/index5.html