The American Pastime, in a Japanese Style

The Idle Monkey Trainer, after several years of living in Japan, finally made it out to "the old ball game". Like anything borrowed from another culture, adjustments to local norms is likely. In the IT industry, this is referred to as "localization". And baseball is no exception. The Japanese have localized it.

I had read and heard about the differences from others. But, for a while I have wanted to experience it first hand. So, last weekend I made my way to Yokohama Stadium to see the Yokohama Baystars take on the Tokyo Giants. (I see no point in going to a dome for a baseball game; the point of baseball to me has always been to sit in the sun and drink beer.)

The differences were apparent before the game even started. The first difference was presented to us when we reserved the tickets. A friend of the Idle Monkey Trainer made the reservations for tickets through a friend's husband who works for the organization. He apologized for the current bottom-of-the-league ranking of the Baystars. We were also asked which team we supported so that are seats would be in the right place. Fans are divided to keep tempers in check and the fists from flying. About half the stadium was full of Giants fans. Arriving just after 2:00 for a 2:30 first pitch, our party was greeted by the classic strains of "Take me out to the ball game". The song is not repeated in the 7th inning stretch. There were also more cheerleaders and costumed characters -- the black pig at the left is the mascot of the Tokyo Broadcasting System, owner of the Yokohama Baystars -- running around the field than I have ever seen at a U.S. game. The fans keep up an almost constant cheering and singing, in turn with their teams' respective at-bats. There are also specific songs/cheers that rise up after each run is scored. The Baystar's song ends in three cheers of "Bonzai"!



The game itself does not show much difference, in terms of rules or play anyway. The only obvious difference being that when a pitcher hits a batter, the pitcher will tip his hat in apology. I am more accustomed to the U.S. style of staring the guy down. Interestingly enough, on this afternoon, both pitchers were from the U.S.. Williams, starting for the Giants and lasting 2 2/3 innings, only tipped his hat to the first of the two batters he hit.

In the end, the Baystars won 4 - 1 over the Giants (who are, by the way, the NY Yankees of Japan - with every negative -- and perhaps positive -- connotation that conveys).

Taiko Sushi

The idle monkey trainer was fortunate enough to be introduced to Taiko, a sushi shop of some renown in the Asakusabashi area of Tokyo. The fish was very good - fresh and tasty - and very reasonably priced, as are the drinks.

1500 yen, built for two

Taiko is also famous for its nightly round of じゃんけん (janken) or game of rock-paper-scissors. Each night at about 8 o'clock, give or take the whims of the owner, a game of rock-paper-scissors is played to give away several prizes. On the night I was there the prizes included a package of ramen soup mix (a house specialty, and extremely good - and cheap), a store t-shirt, a basket of fruit, which included watermelon, cantaloup, plum, peach and grapes, 200 grams of sashimi-grade tuna and two Sendai steaks, to be taken home by the winner. All prizes are give out during the game, and if the owner wins, the round is replayed.

Star search

From Reuters:

Besides Tanabata celebrations, more than 70,000 Japanese shops, offices and tourist attractions such as Tokyo Tower will take part in a "lights off" campaign to save energy on Monday evening.

 "The G8 summit will take place on Tanabata, so we are working towards turning off the lights, and gazing at the milky way while re-affirming the importance of the environment," said Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda in a speech last month. 


Having lived in Tokyo for several years, I cannot help but think that the effort will not result in a view of the Milky Way. There is so much light pollution here, that only on the clearest nights and after the
lights at the nearby temple have been turned off, have I seen more than two stars at any one time. And one of those could have been a planet. The G8 leaders, at their relatively remote retreat, may indeed be able to see stars in the night sky.

Tanabata is based on a Chinese legend, in which Kengyuu (the star Alter) meets Orihime (the star Vega) only once a year on this day over the Milky Way. People celebrate this day by putting up big branches of bamboo with colourful decorations at home. People also make a wish and hang a strip of paper with their wish written on it. (from nihongomemo.com)

Catering to the geeks

The Akihabara district of Tokyo has long been a geek stronghold. The main strip is lined with electronics stores of various description. There are numerous shops catering to anime and manga enthusiasts. The back alleyways and side streets are filled with enough porn to satisfy most, much of it anime. Maid Cafes, in which young women, clad in "French Maid" outfits giggle and serve tea. An industry in its own right has been spawned by these cafes and now includes other manner of stores, including glasses stores, souvenir stores, and reflexology shops. All of them cater to the otaku, Japanese for "geek".

According to a Japan Times article, however, all this catering to otaku is dangerous. In short, the cartoonish maids and making their socially inept "masters" ever more socially inept by reducing the geeks' need to interact with normal society.

Apparently, it would have been so much better if it had stopped at the porn. Perhaps the growth of maid-themed shops will keep them from breeding.

The Neighbors

When I first moved to Japan several years ago, an apartment was arranged for me in Kawasaki City. My new employer, which had hired me without so much as a telephone interview, was kind enough to locate and pay some of the more ridiculous fees on the apartment prior to my arrival.

After landing and getting in touch with the company, I was given instructions on where and how to meet a representative to take me to the apartment. As we walked from the station, he pointed out some of the neighborhood’s highlights – numerous restaurants, department stores, and just down the block from my new residence, a building full of yakuza.

“Don’t worry about them,” I was told. “They do not mess with people in their neighborhood. You don’t bother them, they will not bother you.”

Fair enough, I thought.

In the 15 months that I lived there, I only had two instances of direct interaction with my neighbors. The first occurred as a friend, who also lived in my building, and I were walking passed the yakuza’s place. An eager young gangster sidled up next to us and stated with great pride and careful enunciation, “I...am...Japanese...gangster!”

My friend replied casually, “yes, we know.” At that the young man dropped away and walked back to the small group of associated that always stood outside the building. They greeted his return with a verbal haranguing clearly audible as we proceeded toward the station. Although my understanding of Japanese was limited, it was clear that the young man had breached some article of protocol.

Over the next several months, that young gangster would scurry quickly inside at the sight of my or my friend’s approach.

Across the street and just around the corner from the yakuza’s place was a small coin-operated laundry which I used because of it was nearly always empty of patrons and it was close to my place. The shop held only washers and three driers. Unusually for this place, all of the machines were engaged, so I was shuttling back and forth between my apartment and the laundry. This was quite common and I had no experience with or fear of anyone taking my clothes. I returned to the laundry to find one of the other patrons emptying his clothes from a drier. I thought my timing was quite good since I was on my last load and needed the drier. He finished and I began moving my clothes to the now empty drier. Just as I finished and slotted the coins to start the drier one of the yakuza came into the shop.

He watched as I started the machine, then looked up to the top of the machine. I had not noticed, but on top of the machine was a blanket resting comfortably atop the half inch of dust and lint. I tried to explain to the best of my limited Japanese ability and, seeing that fail, through a series of grunts and pantomime that I was not responsible for the current location of the blanket. Thinking I had conveyed the my meaning adequately, I returned to my apartment.

At the time I thought my laundry should have been dry, I returned to the shop. The machine in which I had left my clothes was empty. They were not on top of the washers, as would sometimes happen on particularly busy days in the laundries around the neighborhood. I looked through in the other driers, but could not located my clothes. Then I glanced into the trash can at the rear of the shop. There were my clothes, still wet. I surmised that this was the result of the phone call the young yakuza was hastily making when I left the shop earlier.

Signs of Spring

The indications that winter (entirely snow-less in Tokyo for the first time since modern records began in the Edo Period) is soon to be behind us are emerging. Distinctive to Japan, or at least Tokyo, the approach of spring is not heralded by the arrival of the first robins, as it is in North America. Rather, it is the sprouting of lights on the cherry trees that mark the nearing change.
The other sure-fire indication that spring is on the horizon, is that fake sakura line Nakamise in Asakusa, Tokyo.