On Bauhaus, the Squirtle Squad and the Gothmother of Black: How Japanese Culture Shapes Your Life

Like many people born in 1991, I first became aware of Japan when someone handed me a Vulpix trading card. Back then, I didn’t know the cunning foxes with nine tails of east Asian folklore, but I was mesmerised by the lo-fi, cuddly ecosystem of Satoshi Tajiri and Ken Sugimori’s creation. As a result, my later years of primary school played out against the inevitable backdrop of rash trades, battle themes and the inevitable banning of the card game from my Year Five school playground. I still recall being personally affronted when my classmate Theo traded his Charizard for a hundred and fifty energy cards. I jettisoned my pocket money on slivers of shiny card, and soon afterwards on generations of video games. I vividly remember losing my shit when my Gameboy went missing at Whipsnade Safari park.

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川の流れ/ Last Post from Japan (I’ll Be Back)

It is late October 2019; the trees along either bank of the Motoyasu are starting to turn pale orange and yellow and drop leaves into the river, and I am closing bank accounts and notifying authorities and getting ready to fly home via Manila. I shall be reading this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence. Whether it’s a sigh of regret or sweet natsukashii1 remains to be told.

Hell or Hot Water

The steam rises, gently caressing the edges of the bamboo-pattern tiles. A pipe (real bamboo this time) brings bubbling, warm water from a hot spring. A group of friends in their twenties chat animatedly as they get ready for the plunge. An older man sinks deep into the water, eyes closed, world outside invisible.

Finis (Travelogue Part 7: Takehara- Kobe)

I was sitting on a ferris wheel reading about John Bercow. Some people would call this rock bottom.

I don’t know what it says about the times, or about me. You could say that the internet has destroyed all our attention spans. You could call it Brexit Derangement Syndrome. Or maybe it’s more specific to me. But sitting there in that little red capsule I’d commissoned on a whim to mark the last night of this phase of my journey, my eyes were drawn to the little flat screen instead of the bright lights of Kobe outside1.

Two Peaces (Travelogue Part 6- Nagasaki- Hiroshima)

I liked Korea. It wasn’t just the rich, easily accessible street food, or the strong coffee. It wasn’t just the suprising boisterousness of daily life- when I went to Silloam Sauna there were people shouting across the room and jumping into the pools, which was a world apart from Japan. I liked the passion for colour in Korean temples and the rough-and-ready markets. Yeah, I liked Korea.

But I fell in love with Japan.

Darth Vader Drinks Plum Wine (Travelogue Part 1: Yokohama- Nagano- Matsumoto)

In my more cynical moments, I’ve grumbled that all Japanese cities look the same, an endless expanse of YouMe malls, flat pack apartments and telegraph wires. Well, bollocks to that. In the first four days of my journey, I visited three cities, each with its own vibe, its own look, and its own experiences to share. Future blogs might be more about the people I meet and the events that unfold on my travels, but this one’s all about the places, three Japanese cityscapes. In lieu of more waffling, here’s part one of my travelogue.

I Do Not Yet Understand

Let me set the scene. A Shinto priest waves his¹ haraegushi, a staff topped with thin strips of paper that somewhat resembles a mop, in the forecourt of Gokoku-jinja. The onlookers watch a ritual that is clearly pre-modern, a sequence of moves which has been practiced and perfected over time. On other days, the priest might bless the union of a young couple, or pray for the long life and happiness of a child. But not today. Today, a new car is parked within on the forecourt of the shrine. The man of God(s) is spiritually purifying its oily innards.

Juku Box: How Much Education Is Too Much?

Juku in Hiroshima.

Mostly they came after the war, a curse in their own way, like England’s ugly new towns.

The Drums of Summer (Miscellany #3)

Hi all,
Haven’t written for a month or so. I’ve been busy here, catching up with people, and making the most of a sweet spot when summer is warm but not furiously hot. For a few weeks, I wasn’t sleeping too well either, and between jobhunting, work and social life, my energy’s been fully spent. But I seem to have recovered, and I thought I’d give you a quick update on life as lived, along with some other assorted miscellanies. That’s right- it’s another fuckin’ clip show.

Slowburn Playlist

Yesterday, over drinks, somebody cornered me to ask which I prized most- movies, music or reading. A terrifying question, to be sure. I wrestled with the answer, and what it said about me.