Nishinomiya Story

Family Ties

Thu, 8 May 2008 19:00:26 +0900

“It’s not a separation, it’s the chance of another meeting.” These are the words of my friend Yasu when I expressed my sadness about missing my relations. I returned home from a chance trip to visit them in north Germany. It’s been a time of many personal changes, so I didn’t expect to find the energy for a trip to the homeland.

In spite of my protestations, my cousin insisted that I come and participate in my godson’s ‘confirmation’ and our niece’s wedding. New furniture for my apartment in Osaka was delivered and I headed off to the airport. Flying westward from Japan was a novel direction as I flew over Russia to a place I’d arrived many times by flying East from North America. Blue skies and friendly faces welcomed me at Hamburg Airport.

We lose no time getting to my cousin’s home as we drive no less than 360 km/hr on the autobahn. Seemed like my flight had only made a pit stop as the car flew to my final stop. I continued to resign myself to reaching a destination that I was not in control of defining.

My role and position in the extended family is always ambiguous to me. Definitely I am an outsider as I’ve always lived in foreign countries, but I’m neither a stranger here. Over the years, I’ve visited my cousin at nearly every home he’s live at - from his parents, through school to his current nest. The guest room here feels like a second home now.

A profound groundedness and consistency characterizes this arm of my family. In contrast, my life seems uncertain and filled with unpredictability. So, I’m never certain what our common point of contact might be. My experience in Japan has taught me that the best way to ride through any situation is to simply try to be modest and sincere.

These qualities don’t impact anyone in an offensive way by virtue of their lack of pretense. Reminding myself of this idea became my center of gravity. Not carrying the weight of trying to make an impression let me see the honest moments in the people around me. It’s a good way to behave and nurtures enduring relationships.

Ole, Ole!

Sun, 4 May 2008 23:17:26 +0900

At the recent wedding of my German niece, the groom’s family arrived from Madrid. It was a festive group, replete with courtly lace mantillas and peineta combs. Although seemingly traditional the headwear was a symbol of nineteenth century protest by the noble women of Madrid against the king of Spain.

A theatrical mix of irreverence and solemnity characterized the behavior of the Spaniards. During the evening they often gathered together in a circle on the dance floor and cajoled someone to perform impromptu. Most often the performance involved a lot of stomping and flamenco styled arm postures. Macho bravado was a key element as the men strutted like matadors and teased each other into sexual submission.

The ritual expressions of male sexuality have a surprisingly graphic presentation in springtime. During this recent spring I witnessed a phallus festival in Japan, a parade of stallions in Germany, an impassioned dance of Spanish men, a lewd male lap dance for a mafia Don, and the joyous insertion of new plants into a California garden. They leave little to be speculated and everything to provoke the imagination.

Spring rites expose the uncompromising ability of nature to reinvent itself. The beginnings of wondrous reproductive cycles are celebrated in uninhibited and sensual observances. Whether the offerings are plain or gilt they are always unapologetically carnal. Maybe it’s the only time of year that men feel that their primal qualities can be freely and openly validated.

Rites of Spring

Thu, 1 May 2008 21:13:49 +0900

Springtime has arrived with cherry blossoms in full bloom among fresh green leafage. The first day of May affords a festival of evening bonfires accompanied by hearty kegs of beer. As the morning appears, those with horse and carriage traditionally parade about the countryside and stop respectfully at the doorstep of the gentry for a chat and a bowl of soup.

As the winter has been a lengthy period of dormancy and idleness, the display of nature groomed to man's perfection is stimulating. The subtext of the ritual is an admiration for an skillful ability to harness and reign a horse's great power. Everyone gathers around the creatures to admire their beauty and various qualities, which leads to conversations about crops and plans for new plantings.

Horses are symbolically understood in dream psychology to represent sexual vitality. The delicate spring cherry blossoms, suggestive of femininity, provide counterpoint to the display of masculine procreative vitality. The springtime phallic rituals in Japan perform a similar function, though the symbolism is more blatant and directly understood.

Comparatively, in western cultural rituals man's intention to control nature is heralded. Regardless of cultural context the hearty celebrations to recognize humanity's intimate relationship with nature show an indebtedness to its generous cyclical rhythms. Realizing that after any harsh winter there will always be a fresh bloom and a reliable thrust of new growth is comforting to know.

Berlin Without Borders

Tue, 29 Apr 2008 21:12:25 +0900

Having a few days off between family events I took a day trip to Berlin. It's a curious place with a complex history and prides itself in being the most liberal place in Germany. Only two decades ago it was divided city with large swaths of undeveloped or decaying urban wasteland. Now it easily resembles a theme park with a hastily assembled urban planning and lots of new, signature buildings.

The newness can not deny the city's torturous past. Feeling entirely disconnected to its Frankenstein type of disjointed parts, I left within three hours. it was a strange experience to go to a famous city and find it impossibly unappealing. There is a high level of unemployment, low level of new business development, and many new buildings without tenants. A lot of people simply looked detached and disaffected.

Perhaps among Berliners there exists a disappointment from unfulfilled expectations. A promise of a good life after the communists simply did not come to full fruition. Regardless of herculean efforts by many the cultural fabric of the city was fundamentally damaged and may take generations to repair. The unique gestalt of an urban area, a cohesive organic structure that unites its many diverse aspects, can be viscerally experienced upon entering through its portals.

Much of Berlin's infrastructure - logistically and culturally - has been undernourished since the war. As a consequence of its fate, it became a kind of provincial outpost freakily cut off from regional charm. It retains much of the original grandeur and scale of a great world city, yet it is missing a complex social marbling one could see in Paris, London, Los Angeles, New York or Tokyo. It is a shame how a war causes so much damage.

The strangest cities I have been to are usually those that were, at some time in its recent history, occupied by a conquering invader. Somehow, that relationship strips locals of dignity and pride that is difficult to replace. Once people have witnessed their culture become subordinated to the vulgarities of an occupier they lose faith in their own collective cultural mythology. The heroes, divinities, and rituals that normally elevate their spirits are seen as unreliable.

A reliable cultural mythology is essential to a nation's health as it provides an intangible meaningfulness to it's citizenry. The collection of stories imparts legendary wisdom that sustains a fundamental sense of righteousness and purposeful destiny. People become nervous, petty and snippy when their cultural story is grievously undermined.

In an attempt to repair its lifelines, Berlin has a beautiful new central train station. Multiple tiers integrate pedestrian walkways, train platforms, shopping and travel services. Curiously, the building itself appears imposed upon the landscape and its access walkways don't have meaningful connection to other civic buildings nearby. But this new crossroads of humanity, more than any other ambitious public structure, may reconnect the many disparate sectors of the city.

Danke Schön

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 21:04:32 +0900

It’s great to unexpectedly open the mind and air out the cobwebs. Gratefully, I'm spending a delightful time with family in northern Germany. My clan has lived here for many generations and are deeply rooted. I never felt that i quite understood how to be here. I had ambitions for other kinds of things. But this time I find solace in their classically shaped lives.

It astonishes me to see any lifestyle balanced close to nature. Here, patio doors swing out from a room filled with silk covered couches onto a completely unadorned garden and untampered landscape. Basically, my family are farmers with a glaze of imperial Rome. Scratch the porcelain surface and you will find the salt of the earth.

Conversation about anything concerning their world is discussed with sparkling wit. It is a challenge to keep up. As I'm not entirely a native speaker, I can get away with being a passive observer. But now and then I will be volleyed a thought or question and it’s best to appear worldly and quick on my feet.

The motivation to come here this time was to participate in several longstanding traditions. My nephew will receive his church "confirmation" and my niece will be married. So far, I've been to my nephew's event, held in a small chapel overlooking a bend in a river. The ceremony was simple and understated, emphasizing the quality of compassion and duty. The word "love" was mentioned in nearly every other sentence.

What was it about imperial Rome that elevated people from barbarian lives up to levels of civilized conduct? By no means has it been a perfect system, but it taught people not to live as barbarians. The landed gentry is a curious group. A balanced existence where women dripping with pearls will slip on a pair of mud boots to get a block of cheese from the cool house.

Having lived in Japan for several years, I often don't see many differences between this old world and that one. Both emphasis discipline, thoughtfulness, timeliness, modesty, family, and inspiration taken from nature. Nevertheless, they both think that the other exists world's apart.

Ich Bin Ein Hamburger

Thu, 24 Apr 2008 20:42:55 +0900

Since my childhood I have irregularly visited Hamburg. Much of my extended family lives nearby, mostly northwards on the Jutland Peninsula between the Baltic and North Seas. Weather here is often tempestuous, experiencing sudden rain bursts common to harbor cities. Nevertheless, it's an elegant and refined cosmopolitan area influenced by a long history of access to foreign cultures.

At the center of Hamburg is a grand train station and an equally prodigious art museum. The museum keeps a full range of art periods, most notably a collection of terrific German Expressionists. At the heart of the museum is cafe that immediately transports visitors back to a time in when cafes provided lively cultural interaction. A loose arrangement of tables and chairs, flooded with natural light, are bordered by massive marble columns. It suggests everything about the balanced structure necessary for a dynamic and stable society.

In spite of this, Hamburg is one of those overlooked cities with an inexhaustible, admirable quality of life. It seems to be conservative at first, but continues to make good choices that ensures it is dynamic and healthy. It's a harbor city with a cozy inner bay that extends to the center of the city’s commercial hub. This affords lovely views upon a soothing body of water from many points of the inner city. Recently, the sidewalks in the main shopping area around the waterfront have been dramatically widened to become more pedestrian friendly.

With the second largest port in Europe, it became an independent harbor city in the twelfth century. Until the end of the first world war it was the main port from which most ships gained access to Germany's many colonies. Like Amsterdam, the city has many canals yet double the number of bridges to cross them. It retains one of the largest aerospace and shipbuilding industries in the world, and is home to many of Germany's largest publishing companies.

Being largely administered by a successful bourgeoisie since the Middle Ages, the city has a conservative nature usually associated with business environments. Usually, the people of Hamburg are described as cool yet faithful. At first aloof and inaccessible, but ultimately dependable and loyal. I often find myself comparing Hamburg and Osaka, as both cities live by similar codes of behavior.

Pretty in Pink

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 20:27:03 +0900

In a series of springtime celebrations, we went night-clubbing and found ourselves with a group of local mafia attending an underground male strip show. It was an odd scene, especially as the don of the mafia group, while raucously simulating fellatio with a young stud, proudly revealed his ceremoniously severed pinky-finger. Their lady friends cheered with the sort of enthusiasm reserved for those privileged to never care about the moral consequences of their behavior.

Without the presence of the women companions to witness the moment with eager approval, it would lack socio-cultural meaning. This scene, coming close on the heels of the Tagata phallus festival, made it clear that during springtime the symbols of sexuality are joyously blessed in Japan. I don't think the mafia guy was queer, just boisterously, albeit a bit perversely, rolling in a ritual mud of unfettered male sexuality.

The delicate nature of female sexuality is symbolically expressed in budding cherry blossoms. Each spring, when most blossoms have already finished blooming, there remains one virginal holdout in Osaka where the blossoms are last to emerge. During evenings along the river in front of the national mint, a pathway of trees illuminated by lanterns offers a romantic stroll beneath aromatic, billowing clouds of fresh pink petals.

Several unique varieties of cherry trees are planted here and a subtle range of hues can be noted. Regardless of age or social disposition, everyone comes to enjoy and feel seduced by the delicate display of nature. Yasu and I, among hundreds of wide-eyed enthusiasts, shared a feeling of life emerging anew. Our collective springtime rituals fulfilled their purpose to shock, impress, and stimulate us.

Home on the Range

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 20:22:19 +0900

For several days I had the great fortune to spend many evenings in conversation with a good friend. He is currently rebuilding his house and garden, which has become a conscious metaphor for a shift in his emotional life. It was that Jeff had been ambitiously crafting his career and professional network during most of our friendship. Now he enjoys the fruits of his labors and has shifted his focus to decidedly invest resources in creating a healthy personal life.

Recently my friend had travelled to Thailand and participated in a charitable endeavor to build houses for locals. It was a rewarding experience and he came home with an intensified sense of personal renewal. He seemed to understand the profound value of a home as personal sanctuary and concrete symbol of one's family.

Nurturing a sense of family is critical to personal emotional health and meaningfulness. As adults we have an opportunity to actively create a familial circle, perhaps apart from any biological connection. When we seek to make our own family, it is a challenge to know what to do. Usually it starts with making a home. Starting by nurturing pets and plants begins a process that eventually may include people.

Good Natured

Sun, 16 Mar 2008 19:43:48 +0900

At countless religious sites throughout Japan the appearance of springtime is greeted with lustful joy. Observants witness the cycle of life renewing itself with a bountiful thrust out of winter dormancy. At Tagata, north of Nagoya, is observed at an annual Shinto ceremony where a freshly carved wood phallus is cheerfully carried through town accompanied by reverent priests, celebratory townsfolk, and curious tourists.

Without embarrassment or titillation the phallus is publicly adored. Those laboring to shoulder the weight of the cart have life-size phalluses strung around their necks, while young priestesses tote larger versions cradled in their arms. It is a wonderfully sacred event that unabashedly recognizes sexuality as a natural process.

So it is throughout Japan, that sex is an approachable subject. It isn't marginalized, but rather understood as central to everyone's natural existence. Sexual symbols, in a festive social context, act as healthy cultural catalysts. They are embraced as sacred expressions without perverse shame, which unfortunately often demeans them in other cultures.

Rituals usually function as means to help people reconnect with deeper impulses. It makes one feel more whole as the conscious mind dynamically interacts with the unconsciousness. The sentient mind receives an understanding in the form of inspiration from seen and unseen forces processed in the unconscious.

Interestingly, as the day wore on the many spectators settled into numerous social groups to share meals and conversation. They naturally shaped themselves into circles like tribal entities gathering around campfires. Everyone seemed relaxed, spirited, and happy. Within each respective collective everyone seemed stimulated and actively expressed themselves in a manner of shared cultural grace.

Magic of Sumo

Mon, 10 Mar 2008 11:18:22 +0900

Delightful friends from Australia invited me to an adventurous afternoon of watching sumo wrestling. As is traditional, we enjoyed a ceremonial banquet and then headed off to the big arena. Unlike many other kinds of sporting events this was not a raucous affair, but much more akin to theater. The amount of wrestling is minimal compared to the many rituals, which are intended to purify a contestant’s mind and body.

Sumo is an ancient sport and originated over fifteen hundred years ago as part of Shinto religious ceremonies celebrating bountiful harvests. Because the sport symbolizes humanity’s wrestle with divine forces, referees continue to dress like priests and the wrestlers call upon beneficent divinities by stomping on the ground prior to each match.

When a contestant enters into the ring he casts a handful of salt to cleanse away evil spirits. At the start of a contest the opponents squat opposite each other in the ring and begin a glaring match. This is intended to psychologically intimidate each other. Now there is a four minute limit, although in former times this could endure indefinitely. Comparatively, the actual wrestling is only less than a minute of fighting.

An information booklet explained that the wrestlers’ etiquette prohibits, “striking with fists, hair pulling, eye gouging, choking and kicking in the stomach or chest”. National sports typically set a tone for people’s behavior in other public arenas, so sumo is a good indication of what I may expect in case of a conflict.