When you attend a business meeting in Japan, your outfit has to be appropriate: a business suit and tie, a proper briefcase (one appropriate to your position within the company and meeting), and of course, a cheap pair of slippers. At many large companies, business guests are expected to take off their expensive business shoes at the front door, and exchange them for slippers. Regular employees also change their shoes, but most of them have "indoor shoes" (sneakers) to change into. So the image of the businessman wearing slippers or tennis shoes is not that unusual here.
It lends a nice casual touch to the business day, but — if you're from a culture that associates slippers with relaxation time — it can make it awfully hard to get in the proper frame of mind for work. Taking off your business shoes means you're home for the day, right? That's how it seemed to work for Mr. Rogers.
On Tuesday, I was out shooting photos around town when I heard a shinkansen coming. They're neat, so I thought I'd take a picture for the blog, not at all expecting this
It's the Fastech 360
, which JR is apparently still testing on the Tohoku Shinkansen line.
There's a little puffery involved in any kind of advertising, but I wonder if Suntory hasn't gone just a leetle
bit over the line here:
The Miracle is more delicious than the King, and both are far superior to their compatriot, the less extravagantly named "Sweet Lemon
." Maybe Suntory is on to something, although I haven't developed superpowers or anything after drinking the Miracle.
And Now, a Word About the Dogs
During a walk through town a couple of weeks ago, a car pulled off to the side of the road, and a couple got out. The woman waved at us, calling out a question: Akisora-chan desu ka? She had met the dogs in the park a few weeks earlier, and had been quite taken with them. Aki bounced and wagged and gave kisses and was terribly charming during their visit; Moki was aloof and not at all disturbed by the fact that the woman forgot his name.
Moki got his moment in the sun about twenty minutes later when a police van pulled alongside us. A policewoman leaned out the window and greeted him by name: Konnichiwa, Moki-chan! She had met the dogs outside the coffee shop at some point. Moki wagged and bounced over to say hi, then got distracted by some interesting-smelling weeds. He seemed happy for the attention, though he probably would have preferred that she gave him some dried sardines. That's what the neighbor down the street does sometimes.
A year after they came to Japan, the dogs seem to have settled into a rather happy existence. And, just as we've made friends and become recognizable members of the community, so have they.
After dinner on Saturday night, Matthew and one of our companions played a friendly game of shogi
, a Japanese variant of chess. The rest of us drank and cheered them on.
Matthew emerged victorious after a long endgame. Next time, we'll play an all-American game: Monopoly.
Teeny-Tiny Railroad Crossing
Rice field roads need grade crossings, too ¡½ just not very big ones.
Iwate Prefecture is famous in Japan for its ironwork, Nanbu-tekki
. Although kettles and pots are the most traditional products, ironworkers now make a wide variety of goods, including windchimesNanbu-tekki
windchimes currently hang from the platform rafters at JR Mizusawa (where this photo was taken) and JR Morioka stations, presumably in recognition of these cities' status as the traditional production sites. They produce a peaceful tinkle as they blow in the breeze ¡½ a nice contrast to the modernity and hustle-bustle of the stations.
The Long and Short (But Mostly Short) of It
I bit the bullet and went sweater shopping yesterday. Stereotypically, trying on clothes is the subject of much wry humor and/or moaning for American women. Especially summer clothing. So imagine the apprehension inherent in a regular shopping foray, and add to that the element of being a wide-shouldered, giant-ribcaged girl in a country generally populated by women of slight build. The opportunities for humor and moaning are endless.
I found what I was looking for: a sleeveless turtleneck, with matching cardigan. They didn't have black out, so I asked the shopgirl to bring me a medium black one, if they had any. She returned, bearing two black sleeveless turtlenecks: one medium, one large. I was grateful but a bit embarrassed ¡½ clearly, she knew (as did I, honestly) that the medium was a long shot.
She showed me to a fitting room, pulling what looked to be a tissue-paper veil out of a dispenser on the wall. Put this over your face before trying things on, she said. It protects the clothes. I love practical Japan — no icky lipstick stains on the clothes. So awesome.
Tissue veil on, I attempted the medium. It quickly became obvious that I wouldn't even be able to get my head through it, much less anything else. The large was perfect. Feeling optimistic, I pulled on the cardigan, which was cute and cozy and had sleeves that ended about four inches above my wrists. Nothing a bone saw couldn't fix, I suppose. And really, I like cute clothes, but not that much. I can only assume from this that miniskirt shopping isn't in the cards for the next year or so.
, or the rock-splitting cherry tree
, is located in front of the District Court building in downtown Morioka.
It is said that the the 300-year-old tree sprouted from a crevasse in the boulder, and split the rock as it grew. It has been designated a national treasure of Japan.
This pretty little park is tucked into the bottom corner of an office building in Morioka. It's below a wall along the sidewalk, so it's easy to miss.