Neighbourhood

Having only been in my new neighbourhood for a month, I still feel very much on the periphery and unable to adequately represent what makes it a neighbourhood, especially visually. So I have chosen an event at which community spirit was on display to the onlooker (if you could get over the heat and the crowds and the excitement caused when the floats had to turn corners); Kishiwada's Danjiri festival. If you are interested in knowing more about the festival itself I found this website informative, although I can't vouch for it's accuracy, and you really need to experience a Danjiri festival to make any sense of it, if you can! Floats (or danjiris) are pulled through the streets by sheer manpower, each danjiri representing a town in the neighbourhood and preceded by their banner or staff, with all the members wearing a 'uniform' called happi; the idea being that they outdo each other in speed and courage, accompanied by chants and musicplayed on the floats themselves. The thing that struck me most was that everyone is involved in some way, from the elderly to the tiniest kids, who generally pull at the front of the ropes, and nearly every spectator is decked out to support their town or favourite danjiri; even dogs are dressed up in happi for the day.The number of people and floats was amazing, and the amount of organisation it must have taken would have been immense; as I gathered from the meeting that preceeded the floats, representatives of each town played a part in that organisation, collaborating together as equals (suggested by the circle that they form). Whether you are the priveleged carpenter that gets to ride the danjiri, the policeman that patrols the street or the guy that brings the refreshments, you are working towards this idea of 'harmony' that the Japanese seem so keen to represent. Having said that, the whole event is geared towards competition between neighbouring towns, with a sense of trying to outdo each other. Perhaps the harmony then is expressed between the existing social groups in each town who share an identity. The festival is a great way to get all neighbouring groups together, and to involve everyone in the community - not just a prayer for an abundant harvest but a celebration of neighbourhood to be enjoyed by all.

Early Impressions of Japan...

Although the image I have chosen to represent my 'first impression' of Japan is a woman in traditional dress (a stereotypical, media-influenced image I had always thought was intended for tourists) this woman made an impression on me for that reason. I expected kimono wearing women to be an empowering self-representation of the traditional Japanese woman and her associated values of poise and subservience; uncommon to see going about everyday life. However I saw several women in kimonos when I visited Kyoto - the first trip I made in Japan - not only wandering down small side alleys but intermingling with the highly fashionable Japanese that fill the main streets. And they didn't elicit attention from Nihon-jin, which led me to conclude that it is in fact a common sight, in Kyoto at least. Wanting to get an insiders perspective I asked my host mother when I met her for the first time the following day: "Is it common to see women in traditional kimono?". She didn't seem surprised at the question, having had experience with naive Westerners and their preconceptions before, however when I insisted that I had seen not only one but four or five women in kimonos she made the (now oh so familiar!) Japanese "heeeeeeeeeeh?!" sound, and tried to explain that 'normal' usage of Kimono was ceremonial only. So already I had come across the regional variations in culture and expectation, and discovered that my quest for a deeper understanding of Japanese 'traditions' could not be undertaken from the comfort of Kansai. Having said that it did serve to reinforce the idea that the Japanese place a high importance on their history and cultural traditions, which is what brought me to Japan in the first place.

The next photo comes from a supermarket found hidden down the side streets of Osaka. I chose it as a representation of my initial impression as it embodies one of the contrasts that I found interesting (annoyingly I find myself unable to avoid the common notion of Japan as a land of contrasts); bright lights, modern amenities and advanced technology balanced with a simple lifestyle. The number of people who use bicycles as part of a daily transport routine (not necessarily as a primary form of transport but nevertheless significant) made a big impact on me, possibly due to coming from a country where I havn't ridden a bike in about four years and know many people that don't even know how to ride one. Bikes are catered for everywhere; arguably more so than cars as many shops and the convenience stores that abound only have room for bike parking and nowhere for cars. I myself have embraced the bike culture, cycling the 30minutes to Kansai Gaidai and back every day, and enjoying the scenery and proximity to locals that I would otherwise be missing. Whether the use of bicycles is due to the 'convenience' of everything and the fact that the mountainous landscape means everything is condensed into smaller areas, or it is simply a financial choice I have yet to work out (I'm pretty sure it doesn't have a lot to do with the low environmental impact as Japan is the 5th worst country for CO2 emissions). But it seems to suit the Japanese, and if it's good enough for them it's good enough for me...