I know that I used up a lot of words in the last few posts bitching about how unmotivated I was last week. It took me til yesterday to figure out that the real problem was not, in fact, that vacation was over and I preferred lying in bed watching anime and reading to studying and going to work (although that is, of course, true). It is one of the great ironies of my life that I like cool weather and dark days but the lack of light wreaks havoc on the feel-good chemicals in my brain. Some years I'm better at coping than others. This is starting off like an "other."
That said, serotonin's got nothing on a beat for making this girl happy. Yesterday was a national holiday, Culture Day, and while it didn't get me a day off school because it fell on a Saturday, at least there were lots of cool things happening because of it. Not that I cared about most of those things. My priority was Asakusa's taiko festival, and I am serious when I say priority. I rescheduled my nihonga lesson and everything in order to accommodate getting there from the other side of Tokyo.
I've written enough about taiko that it really shouldn't need an introduction, but in case you're new here, taiko is the most exciting music in Japan (and yes, that includes the first opening songs for Naruto Shippudden, Durarara!!!, and Noragami). The taiko festival involves three-and-a-half hours of non-stop drums, with some shinobue (flute) and shamisen (that thing Kubo was playing in the movie) thrown in for good measure. But really, the drums are what it's all about.
Each beat reverberates in your chest, shocking your heart harder than a defibrillator. Merely watching taiko is hard, I think - the biofeedback pulls you into the music, makes you need to move, dance, do something. Or maybe that's just me.
Besides the music itself being exciting there are several reasons why taiko is saikou. There's something really playful about the performance of it. It's not just people standing around making music - there's a lot of movement. The musicians were jumping and dancing around, twirling their sticks and throwing them in the air.
I've taken lessons before, and am hoping to start doing so regularly this week. I speak as the voice of experience when I tell you that it is hard, sweaty work. There is a certain form you're supposed to have - not just the way that you hold the drum sticks, but the huge, exaggerated arm movements. To be able to keep up the energy that it takes to play those drums is difficult, but just about every musician I looked at had a smile on their face. They were having fun, and that was infectious.
I loved the fact that taiko really is for everyone. There were kids banging those drums. There were also old folks. There were just as many women playing as men, and there were more than a couple musicians carrying extra weight, but they still rocked just as hard as anyone else. It's hard not to love an art form that welcomes everyone.
Also, it occasionally involves boys with their shirts off, and I am definitely a fan of that. Speaking of which, if any of the drummers who were there that day noticed me staring a little too intently, or thought that smile on my face was kind of creepy, rest assured, I'm no yandere. It's just that you guys are my heroes. Okay, maybe I'd be willing to date some of you, but I'd never resort to stalking (if only because I reserve that for the boys of Drum Tao). All joking creepiness aside, it was one of the best things I've done this school year, and gave me the strength to get my homework done (mostly) and face another week of anklebiters.
In the long history of my travels, this may go down as my all-time favorite trip*, even with all the mishaps. Besides the fact that I was doing exciting and interesting things in the home country of my current favorite art form/storytelling mode (even just taking the train
into Osaka from the airport, I could already tell I'd arrived, in the stretches of walking paths along rivers, the
schools passed, the places the train tracks cross the road...scenes that in my last
two years of watching anime have become as
familiar to me as those from my own childhood). Even better, I got to spend some time with the Kawaii Kid Kingpin. (I don't generally change nicknames for people here on the blog, but at dinner the other night I said something about teenage boys, and then realized that he won't be a teenager much longer, so in honor of that - and in anticipation of the day when we will totally rule the world of anime merch with our totally gucci company - an upgrade.) Put all that together and you have a recipe for a great vacation that not even Yukihira Soma could beat.
So the Kawaii Kingpin has been in Kyoto for over a year now, studying at Doshisha University, which means he has had time to find out all sorts of things. One of the details he shared with me during the last year is that he lives next to a block-long shopping arcade which was the inspiration for an anime called Tamako Market. I proceeded to watch it to see what he was talking about, and immediately loved it (except for the damn cockatoo. Talking animals suck), so the first day we met up he took me to see it (along with his university, but really, who cares about that???) At that time it was early evening and there were plenty of people walking through, shopping for all sorts of things. In an attempt to not embarrass myself by acting like a complete tourist in front of him, I didn't take any pictures that night, but after my harrowing escape from Kibune, I ended up back there, so I took my pictures then. Sadly, you don't get the same bustling sense of life when it's deserted, but it's the thought that counts, right?
One of the (many (non-snarky)) things we agree on is the fact that Kyoto Animation puts out some good stuff...including the aforementioned Tamako Market. I do believe that he got a great deal of satisfaction out of telling me how amazing their newly released - ie, yet-to-be-translated, sucks to be you - movie, Koe No Katachi (A Silent Voice) was when we walked past the theater. And again at dinner that night. And again two days later, walking along the river, at which point, I thought, "Screw it! If I can follow opera being sung in Italian, I can watch anime without subtitles." So I asked him for a synopsis and a heads up on any parts I might not understand, and he did an excellent job. He was right - it was freaking fantastic. The theme was the main character's road to redemption, and along the way it dealt with bullying - great story and beautiful animation. I was so glad I got to experience it on the big screen.
I tried to visit KyoAni's shop - it would have been great to take home a poster, or basically anything dealing with their work. It's out of the way, unless you're coming back from Nara...which unfortunately I visited on Thursday, when they are closed, as I discovered when I got there. Oh well, next time. Instead, I made it late that afternoon to the Kyoto International Manga Museum. They have a huge collection of manga that you can sit and read to your heart's content - or just stare longingly at if you don't read Japanese. They also have a pretty legit display about manga's history and how it's made, from which I learned a thing or two before hitting the gift shop and getting one of my two new favorite books - a collection of manga artists' interpretation of masterpiece works of art. It is unbelievably gorgeous.
I had two more festivals lined up for this holiday...big, cool ones. And then the Kawaii Kingpin said it would be best if we went to Denden Town on the weekend. Also known as, when my big, cool festivals take place. It took me all of about five seconds' consideration to realize that crowded festivals - regardless of how cool - pale in comparison to the opportunity to go shopping for otaku swag with one of the people responsible for getting me hooked in the first place. To his credit, he said we could try going another time, but honestly, I've been to quite a few festivals this week, and the ones I missed will still be here next year. The opportunity to spend time with a friend, on the other hand, is irreplaceable.
Also, based on the shop he showed me in Sanjo, we were going to need a full day. And lots of money. So we met up at 11, on my last day in Kyoto, to take the train to Osaka. You can get most of the way there on one train, then it's three stops on your transfer and a short walk to Denden Town and its vast array of shops selling all sorts of dope swag. If you can't find it in one shop, try next door. Or the door after that. Cross the street. Go down the block. It seriously never ends. The number of beautiful things I saw was overwhelming. Except...it's tough being a woman otaku with reasonably good taste (ie, if you're not looking for Free! or One Piece, you're SOL). Women with reasonably good taste are not the target market the industry shoots for. I guess chalk it up to the fact that women typically aren't as visual, or maybe have enough sense not to spend hundreds of dollars on figures, no matter how gorgeously made (present company excepted). That said, there were plenty of women in the shops we visited, so we are clearly willing to put some money where our collective mouths are. I appreciated the sympathy the Kawaii Kingpin expressed when he recognized the gender inequality that my kind suffer from, and we decided that when we start our company that we'll work to address it. But don't worry, I found a few things to spend my hard-earned money on - a few different small Naruto figures, a swing charm with Shinra from Durarara!!, and an art book for the next movie I will be watching, Kimi no Na Wa, which looks brilliant, and the Kawaii Kingpin assures me that it is.
Not disclosed: his job as a subway mascot
Finally, there was a little game I was playing called Things That Happen in Anime. One evening walking along the river, we spotted a group of Japanese schoolgirls crossing the stepping stones in their uniforms, and the point was raised that this particular scene happens in SO many shojo manga. So I decided to start seeing how many things we did that have happened in anime. The fact that this game was going on will come as a surprise to the Kawaii Kingpin when he reads this, since I never actually clued him in. Having watched - rough estimate - five times more anime than me, he has a distinct advantage. Like, the kind of advantage Sora and Shiro have in No Game No Life against practically everyone. Anyways, these were the ones I came up with:
1. The long-lost friend reunion - This played out a lot like when Sakura and Naruto see each other for the first time in three years. We walked along, talking and catching up, while I was meanwhile thinking, "Wow, he's grown up so much." Don't worry - just like Naruto, the Kawaii Kingpin eventually proved that he can still be as immature as ever.
2. Sharing an umbrella - This one didn't actually happen. He called my umbrella ugly! I wasn't about to offer after that, even if he was worried about the rain making his hair fall out (the most Korean thing I think he's ever said). Besides that, my umbrella was teeny tiny - when I bought it in a downpour in Delft it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I loved the fact that it was small enough not to be a pain in the ass.
3. Pigging out on someone else's dollar - Two of my favorite anime (Noragami and Fairy Tail) both contain scenes where one character buys the others dinner...and they totally take advantage of it. It's a bit of a stretch, but he bought my dinner one night, I bought his the next time, so I'm counting it. Bonus - I didn't really make a big deal out of it, and I only did it the once, but when our curry arrived that first dinner I definitely relished saying, "Itadakimasu!"
4. Walking along the river banks - We were actually supposed to be cycling, but it is hard to talk and ride at the same time. Cycling was my idea, and it seemed like a great idea at 8 in the morning, but after a long day filled with riding and being an outlaw (I haven't told you about that one...maybe next time), I was happy to walk a while.
5. The giving of charms - I came up with this one while I was visiting Kodai-Ji. Most temples sell lucky charms, each one for a different purpose. I almost got him the matchmaking charm, but since he prefers his girlfriends in 2D, I didn't figure there was much point. Instead I went for "Improve Skills." We could be talking about his Japanese skills, or in art...not that he needs much help there.
My most valuable souvenir - original sketches by the best new mangaka
Friday night we went to a cafe...ostensibly for art time, and we did do a little show and tell, but mostly we talked. At one point, the European (I've forgotten his specific nationality) sitting next to us cut into our conversation - I had been talking about the little Ranma 1/2 figure I'd gotten out of a machine in Shinkyogoku arcade, which the Kawaii Kingpin thought he might recognize. The C in our A/B conversation said that it made him feel old, since that was his first anime, and we ended up explaining our relationship - that he was in university and I was his high school art teacher. However, I realized later that maybe that didn't fully sum us up. I'm incredibly impressed by how much his art skills have grown in the last year, and he always had the kind of encyclopedic knowledge that comes with loving something as much as he loves anime. Although Mrs. Uzumaki was technically the one who first lured me to the dark side, watching Fairy Tail during yearbook meetings, it was his passion that fanned the flames, and as far as manga and anime goes, his skills surpassed mine long ago. If you don't believe me, just check out the manga above, which he created for a class project. He's truly earned the right to steal Darth Vader's line and say, "Now I am the master."
*I say "may" instead of "will" because we agreed that our next big adventure needs to take us to Tokyo, and - oh, the possibilities!
I've got writer's block regarding that enlightenment blog I mentioned yesterday, so I'm ignoring it for now. Maybe it needs to be written in the order it happened, and while I'd like to keep all of my writing about Nepal together, you can't argue with the Muse. So let's go to Bhutan instead.
Quite possibly the smallest commercial flight I'll ever be on, and it wasn't even half full.
If you've never heard of Bhutan, you're not the only one. It's kept a fairly low profile, with only a handful of flights into the country, and just a single border crossing by land. They charge $250 per day to visit, and all these combine to limit the number of tourists that make it there. And they like it that way. It's not that they don't want outsiders to come to Bhutan, but...well, Bhutan is a marvel in this modern world, a country that apparently cares more about the well-being of its citizens than the bottom line, a policy they call Gross Domestic Happiness, or GNH.
There were three major motivations behind me going to Bhutan, and this GNH was one of them. My guide, the lovely Sree, is one of two lady guides currently in the field and has been involved in conferences about GNH. She explained that the four pillars of it were:
1. to preseve and promote national culture.
2. to preserve the environment.
3. sustainability.
4. good governance.
The ruins of Drukgyel Dzong, watching the way to Tibet
If Tibet was "paradise lost," then Bhutan is the Shang-ri-La I hoped to find. Ironically, I have a feeling that if Tibet's history hadn't converged with China's (how's that for diplomacy?) it might be on the path that Bhutan is on. After all, Tibet has a lot in common with Bhutan. Bhutan practices Tibetan Buddhism, shares a border with them, and is nestled up in the Himalayas. As far as good governance goes, I can't imagine anyone better qualified than the current Dalai Lama. Unfortunately, that's not the way the cards played out, so we'll never know.
On the last day of my tour, the Counting Crows' cover of "Big Yellow Taxi" came up on our driver's playlist, just as we were coming up to the Dochula Pass. Bhutan actually seems to have figured out what they had before it could be lost, through some combination of luck and the strategic move of throwing in their lot with India around the 1950's (the vision of their leaders no doubt played a part in that, as well). Besides limiting the number of tourists that cross the border, GNH plays out in ways such as choosing to move towards organic, locally grown fruits and vegetables (rather than importing from India) and making the national dress - kira for women and gho for men - a sort of uniform in a lot of places, such as schools and museums (which is, admittedly, one of the less popular aspects of GNH for the younger generation, who would prefer to run around in t-shirts and jeans...and we thought it was bad in high school when we had to wear collared shirts and at the very least colored jeans on band trips!)
Even in Bhutan, where things seem to be going fairly well, GNH isn't a panacea. While Sree, a divorced mother of two, considers herself to be one of the luckiest people in the world, our driver pointed out that there is a huge gap between the rich and poor. While health care is available to all, it's not as simple as walking into a clinic and being treated; bureaucracy must be given its due. Bhutan is the last kingdom in the Himalayas, and their royal family seems to be liked well enough, but politics is full of self-serving hypocrites wherever it may be found.
However, the fact that the ideal is there, that they're working on it, says a lot to me. As does the fact that they're not hypocritical about it. The first day I was in Bhutan, as we were driving out to the ruined fortress, Drukgyel Dzong, we passed a lot of of workers, widening the roads. They were Indians, which is not so unusual, considering the fact that India is the other country which shares a border with Bhutan, but I lived in the Middle East for two years, and seeing Indian workers always makes my breath catch, because they tend to be given a really shitty deal. So I asked Sree about them, why the government was outsourcing. The answer is usually cheap labor, but she explained that they were more experienced in road work than Bhutanese laborers; they do a better job. And as we continued to drive, I was amazed by the numbers of Indian children and wives I saw. Again, normally these workers spend long periods of time without their families, because their host country will not sponsor visas for their dependents.
But then, Bhutan is not a normal country. If you want to experience it for yourself, I have to recommend Adventure Planet Travel. They did an awesome job organizing my tour and finding a guide to suit me (I think I mentioned that there aren't that many lady guides working in Bhutan). Anyways, check them out.
