The Adventures of Tin Toys

Yesterday, as I was walking around Yokohama, I noticed many interesting things on the numerous maps that adorned the streets. Having visited Yokohama only once before, I decided to stay the night and spend a second day exploring this historic city. While staring at the points of interest on the signs, one thing genuinely excited me: the Tin Toy Museum.

I begin my exploration by walking through the Yamate area. This place is characterised by interlocking stone pathways that bend and crawl at various steep degrees, reminiscent of my hometown with its steep hills and Western-style houses. Despite being a popular spot for tourists, locally known as ‘The Bluff,’ I am surprised to find that most maps in this hilly terrain are in Japanese. Needless to say, I get lost and eventually stumble upon a random Spanish-style house.

flutepiano[1]

There is no charge to enter the house, but upon entry, I am required to remove my shoes. Inside, I find a woman playing the flute, accompanied by another woman on the piano, seemingly without any apparent reason. While I recognise the melody, I struggle to put a name to it. As I wander around, I am afforded the opportunity to explore a genuine Spanish kitchen, complete with old cutlery. It surprises me to learn that the house was built by an American but designed by a British architect, adding a layer of complexity to its Spanish theme that I can’t quite comprehend. The Bluff is dotted with many houses of diverse styles, allowing visitors to freely wander and experience the architecture of different countries. From the balcony window, I catch a glimpse of what locals refer to as the ‘British House’ in the distance.

I make my way into the dining room, anticipating tables and chairs, only to be surprised by the presence of strange artwork that clearly doesn’t belong in this space.

hotair[1]

I leave the house, resuming my quest for the Tin Toy Museum. I meander through a cemetery for British soldiers and emerge on the other side. Stumbling upon the oldest wooden Christian church in Japan, I find it of little interest and continue walking for about an hour through maze-like streets. Finally, I locate a map in English. The Tin Toy Museum is on the opposite side of The Bluff, close to the house I visited earlier. I navigate steep hills and winding alleyways, and after another half-hour, I arrive at the museum, half-expecting it to be closed today.

At the entrance, I pay ¥200 and race inside.

oldrobots[1]

As I step inside the Tin Toy Museum, I’m greeted by the sound of The Beatles’ album ‘Help!’ playing from the speakers—an unexpected but delightful touch. The exhibition showcases over three thousand miniature toys produced in Japan between 1890 and 1960. Most of the toys, ranging from cars and rockets to robots, form the extensive personal collection of Teruhisa Kitahara, a man with a passionate affection for all things toy.

A sign next to some rather unsettling clowns reads, “Clown and circus toys are highly comical, perfectly capturing the lively movement of the circus. They are popular for their acrobatic flair.” Inside the museum, there’s a second exhibit called the ‘Mini-Mini Museum.’ Included in the ticket price, this small shoe-box-sized exhibit initially seems like a pointless distraction. However, as I explore, I discover it features even smaller toys than I could have imagined were possible to create.

naoko[1]

Back at the main exhibition, I find that JAXA astronaut Naoko Yamazaki has visited here too, and she appears to have forgotten a signed postcard of herself, left amongst Atomic Rockets and Space Ship X-7’s. I feel tempted to buy a remote control alligator for the price of a month’s rent, but I instead opt for a wind-up robot for ¥1242; quite expensive, but full of nostalgia, and I like robots.

I leave the museum and the Yamate area, heading for Yamashita Park. The park, situated on the waterfront, is unfortunately cast in shadow by the massive Hikawa Maru, an ocean liner that blocks the sunshine and seems unnecessarily colossal. Nowadays, it serves as another museum, overshadowing the park inconsiderately. Nevertheless, the reason for my visit to this park was sparked by a sign pointing to another point of interest that intrigued me – the Statue of the Guardian God of Water.

guardianofwater[1]

It’s no secret that I enjoy irony, so I find it incredibly amusing that the statue here stands within a construction site, placed in a small pond filled with bricks and completely devoid of any water whatsoever. I can’t imagine the statue is pleased with its surroundings.

My final stop in Yokohama is also within Yamashita Park – the Statue of the Little Girl with Red Shoes On. I didn’t have specific expectations, but the description on the sign proved accurate. The girl represents a children’s song from 1922 called ‘Akai Kutsu,’ written by Ujo Noguchi, translating to mean ‘Red Shoes.’

redshoes[1]

A young girl with red shoes, was taken away by a foreigner.
She rode on a ship from Yokohama pier, taken away by a foreigner.
I imagine right now she has become blue-eyed, living in that foreigner’s land.
Every time I see red shoes, I think of her.
And every time I meet a foreigner, I think of her.

I’m not too sure what the song is about, and the only explanation offered by the sign is that Yokohama City wants this statue to become a cherished landmark for its countless visitors. Sadly, most visitors seem to just walk along, not giving the statue a second glance.

I decide that there is little else to do in Yokohama; despite having enjoyed two nice sightseeing days, it is time to head back to the reality of Tokyo. I take the train over to Shibuya. As I leave the station, I navigate through crowds of photographers capturing images of what once was and still is – just a crossing. The bright lights of Shibuya act as a neon reminder of what I was expecting Japan to look like before I arrived here nine months ago.

backtoshibuya

I wander aimlessly for a while through the busy nightlife before feeling overwhelmed by the lights and sounds, eventually making me feel dizzy. After a tiring few days, it’s time for me to go home. I buy some takeaway food for the train, taken away by a foreigner, and head back to Minowa.

Robots, Androids, and Mechanical Oddities

dl_logo_wrob

For many people in Japan, October is a time for Halloween festivities, including scary costumes, decorations, and excited children. However, for some, the most anticipated event this month involves forward chaining, service robots, degrees of freedom, and excitement akin to a child in a Halloween sweet shop. Today marks Japan Robot Week 2014, and I can’t wait to discover what it’s all about.

The event occurs biennially at the Tokyo International Exhibition Centre, known as Tokyo Big Sight. Halls one to three are packed with a wide array of exhibits, featuring a total of 480 companies across 926 booths. Here are the highlights of my day:

Kawada Industries, Inc.

Like many other companies present here, Kawada Industries focuses on creating robots designed to assist with menial tasks. A prime example is NEXTAGE, a Next Generation Industrial Robot.

nextage_cafe[1]

NEXTAGE can be effortlessly controlled using a cutting-edge global user interface. Equipped with image recognition, stereo vision providing three-dimensional coordination, and hand cameras for precision, NEXTAGE excels in performing tasks that might be challenging for Japan’s aging population. To showcase its remarkable abilities, employees at Kawada Industries have it brewing tea and coffee all day long.

Kobayashi Laboratory

Muscle Suit is an innovative design from Kobayashi Laboratory—a wearable robot back support unit designed to assist people facing lifting difficulties. Effectively an exoskeleton, the device naturally mimics human movements.

kobalab[1]

Two models are set to hit the market soon: one weighing fifteen kilogrammes and the slightly larger model weighing thirty kilogrammes. While thirty kilogrammes might seem like a substantial weight to bear on your back, the demonstrator effortlessly lifts heavy boxes filled with bags of rice without breaking a sweat.

Tomy Company, Ltd.

I am fortunate enough to witness the Tomy Company unveiling their new toy for children. Arriving at the DeAgostini booth just before noon, I find quite a crowd already gathered. Three large cameras record every second of the action. Initially, there’s a demonstration of Robi, the build-it-yourself robot that comes with its own magazine. By purchasing the magazine each week, you receive the next part of the robot. Robi does a little dance, says “Hello” in Japanese, all while a mysterious purple cloth covers the forthcoming announcement.

tomyone[1]

After a lengthy discussion and multiple trailers displayed on various television screens, Robi is placed down, and eventually, the purple cloth covering something is removed. Finally, after a long wait, Robi Jr is revealed, but he appears frightened and doesn’t seem to behave very well at all. Initially, I wonder if this robot toy begins as a baby, and part of the enjoyment is teaching it to grow wiser and more capable, utilising some of the one-thousand pre-programmed phrases boasted by its creators.

tommy2[1]

However, all Robi Jr seems capable of doing is turning its head from side to side (accompanied by loud creaking from its mechanical parts) and moving its arms up and down in what seems like a marching tantrum. Perhaps I am missing the point. If I were a child again, I might find the prospect of owning a Robi Jr somewhat compelling. However, these emotions no longer stir within me, and I leave the exhibit feeling confused.

Atsugi Monozukuri Brand Project

What do you get when you cross pig organs, sweetfish, wires, and a pile of cardboard?
ATSUMO!

atsumo[1]

This near life-sized robot, featuring a pig’s face, is based on Ayukoro, the mascot of Kanagawa Prefecture, particularly from the city of Atsugi. A fusion of local delicacies—ayu fish and pig organs—inspired this mechanical mascot, taking on Ayukoro’s form. ATSUMO has the ability to run, speak, shake hands, and do what all other robots seem to be capable of doing, and that is of course dancing. The cardboard looking robot even has its own cardboard Carnival Cutouts.

Project Team Atom

“Grab your dreams!” is the tagline for this next exhibit, the Power Assist Hand. The team behind the project was overly welcoming and spoke superb English. I was very surprised when they invited me over to try out their product hands-on.

powerhand[1]

The Power Assist Hand is incredible. The glove mimics finger joints, aiding those who have lost the ability to use their hand. For instance, individuals suffering from hemiparesis due to a stroke find it extremely challenging to use their hand effectively, and this product offers a much-needed solution. The glove fits comfortably and is controlled remotely. With a push of a button, my hand grasps firmly; even when I try to resist, my fingers snap open and closed. The device makes picking things up and gripping objects as easy as flicking a switch. A recent study suggested that repetitive movement can help regenerate behavioural patterns in the brain. Therefore, this device could assist stroke victims in both physical recovery and mental capacity.

Daiwa House

Daiwa House has fittingly named their crawlspace inspection robot after a cat: Moogle. This feline-shaped robot is slightly more cunning, equipped with an inspection camera, LED lighting, and various types of sensors. It boasts a fully operational tail that aids its ability to climb large objects or traverse uneven terrain.

moogle[1]

The demonstration of this robot has it climbing up stairs and crawling around, all the while projecting what it is seeing onto a large monitor. As far as remote-controlled cat tank torch camera robots go, Moogle is the best.

Aldebaran SoftBank

Most people in Japan are quite familiar with Pepper, a robot from SoftBank that appears on television almost every five minutes. Developed by Aldebaran for SoftBank, the next installation comes in the form of NAO. The tagline, ‘ASK NAO,’ is an acronym meaning Autism Solution for Kids. This creative, friendly teaching robot has been created as a way to help children learn.

nao[1]

I’ve been told that children with autism are often more drawn to technology. NAO has been designed to bridge the gap between technology and the human social world. Appearing slightly more polished than some of the other robots I’ve seen today, NAO boasts two cameras, an inertial measurement unit, capacitive touch sensors, freedom of movement, four directional microphones, two sonar channels for distance, and is powered by an Intel ATOM 1.6 GHz CPU. Just as I’m about to leave, the K-pop classic ‘Gangnam Style’ begins to play, and NAO joins in with a perfectly choreographed dance routine. If you have around ¥850,000 to spare, you can purchase your own NAO and use voice commands to ask it to kick a ball around, or something.

Okayama University

Tetsushi Kamegawa and his team from Okayama University are here to demonstrate their ‘As Seen on TV’ rescue robot. The robot crawls along the ground before coiling like a snake.

climbinguptubes[1]

With a helical rolling motion, this robot exhibits the ability to tackle unusual surfaces. Equipped with a front-mounted camera, it is an excellent creation designed to locate people trapped in hard-to-reach areas during disasters. The snakelike robot can impressively climb trees and almost unassisted, crawl up vertical pipes.

Everything Else

Japan Robot Week features an incredible variety of small robots freely wandering around. There are robots randomly washing cars, others engaged in fights, and some building small metal houses. It’s quite challenging not to get distracted; there’s simply far too much to see.

Besides Robot Week, three other exhibitions are simultaneously taking place in the same halls. Vacuum 2014 focuses on vacuum technology and equipment, with cleaning robots actively removing dust. Naoko Yamazaki, a former astronaut from the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency, is giving a lecture on vacuum-related topics. The Pan-Exhibition for Wash and Clean showcases industrial washing and cleaning machinery, featuring an exhibition by the Fine Bubbles Industry Association. Monzukuri Matching Japan, the final exhibition, includes booths highlighting additives, manufacturing technology, and surface finishing. Notably, the WAS Cutting System in this section is impressive—a machine effortlessly cutting through metal using jets of water.

wascutting[1]

If robots aren’t quite your cup of tea (although if they are, I’m sure NEXTAGE will make one for you), there’s an abundance of other technologies here to explore. From hydraulic devices designed to lift disabled people from toilets to machines aiding individuals getting in and out of hospital beds, a vast section on 3D printing techniques, an array of cutting devices, microsurgery tools, medical assistant droids, and much, much more.

Amidst the whirl of innovation and the buzz of cutting-edge tech, Japan Robot Week truly paints a vibrant canvas of tomorrow’s possibilities, leaving us all eagerly anticipating what the future holds in the realm of robotics and beyond.

Let’s Go to Space, Brother!

In 1994, Rokuon-ji Temple was designated as a World Cultural Heritage Site. The Golden Pavilion is adorned with gold foil on lacquer, making it a spectacular and breathtaking structure. Gleaming brightly in gold, it peacefully rests on an island in the middle of a lake, encircled by stunning Zen gardens. Even the vending machines here offer disposable cameras, beckoning visitors to capture the Golden Pavilion’s magnificence.

golden[1]

The entry fee is just ¥400, and the ticket, crafted from beautiful paper and adorned with expert calligraphy, adds to the experience. The path meanders through the belfry, past the abbot’s chamber, the pond, the Golden Pavilion, Galaxy Spring, and the Sekka-tei Tea House, all while being enveloped by the mysterious mountains in the background. It’s a wonderful route that takes me about twenty minutes at an unhurried pace. Along the way, small wooden shacks selling souvenirs entice tourists.

After visiting Rokuon-ji Temple, I catch a bus to Kyoto Station. From there, I walk back to Kawaramachi Station, passing by Kyoto Tower on the way, although I opt not to go inside. I’ve had my fill of 360-degree panoramic views this month; it’s enough to last me a lifetime.

kyototower[1]

As I walk away from Kyoto Tower, I notice some signs. One warns that bicycles parked on Kyoto’s streets will be removed, with a ¥2300 fine upon retrieval. Another indicates that Kyoto is a ‘no smoking’ city, imposing a ¥1000 fine on anyone caught smoking on the streets. A third sign highlights a ¥30,000 fine for littering. I appreciate Kyoto for these regulations, although the frequency of enforcing these fines remains uncertain. At times, it feels as if Japan exists within a vast panopticon.

I see a sign saying, ‘Now, Life is Living You.’ Beyond the sign lies the entrance to yet another temple: Higashi Honganji Temple. I cross over a moat of water filled with lily pads and approach this marvel. The temple also features a cleansing basin adorned with a water-breathing dragon—seems to be a common sight in Kyoto.

HigashiHonganji[1]

The Goeido Hall stands as the second-largest wooden structure in Kyoto and ranks amongst the world’s largest wooden buildings. Its garden is recognised as a site of National Scenic Beauty. The temple follows the Shinran sect of Buddhism. In 1532, a Nichiren Buddhism sect felt that the Shinran sect was gaining too much influence, leading to the burning down of the temple.

As I continue my walk toward Downtown Kyoto, I recall seeing a sign on the train yesterday, advertising an art exhibition at the Museum of Kyoto. Conveniently, the museum is just a ten-minute walk from my hostel. On the way, I pass by a shop called ‘Eggs and Things,’ where a queue of at least thirty women stands outside, enduring the 33°C Kyoto heat, boiling, much like the eggs. I walk up four seemingly random steps, cross a road, and then descend another set of four random steps. Amidst this confusion, a perplexing sign catches my eye.

level_difference[1]

At the Museum of Kyoto, I attend the opening of the ‘Space Brothers’ exhibition, which will run from today until September 23rd. Men from the Koyama Astronomical Observatory are currently giving a one-off presentation. The presentation is entirely in Japanese, with a man talking and pointing at a projector with a red laser pen. Television crews are also present, with five large cameras and two microphones on sticks, capturing every image and every word.

Space Brothers is a Japanese manga narrating the tale of two brothers aspiring to become astronauts. This exhibition marks the first large-scale showcase of the author Chuya Koyama’s work. It features over two hundred pieces of original illustrations. Alongside the artwork, there’s a collection of replicas of space uniforms and models of rockets, all loaned from the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA).

astronaught[1]

There’s an audio guide in Japanese narrated by two voice actors from the anime series. Spread across two floors, the exhibition showcases videos of the moon landing, real satellites displayed in glass boxes, model rockets, a dedicated section about Apo the dog, and genuine meteorites. All this is available for the ticket price of ¥1000. Even the museum restaurant offers a space-themed menu. Additionally, Pocari Sweat has a stand here where you can write a message to be sent to the moon during their upcoming interstellar flight next year.

As I make my way through the gift shop, I find myself tempted to purchase something. Normally, I wouldn’t bother, but this is space stuff. At a price of ¥1296, I buy ‘Space Bread’ and ‘Space Ice Cream’—foods that astronauts actually consume during missions to space or while floating about on the International Space Station. ‘In space, no one can hear you ice scream.’

spacefood[1]

I take my space snacks back to the hostel. The ice cream feels as light as polystyrene but surprisingly tastes delightful. It’s akin to chomping on soft vanilla ice cream-flavoured chalk that turns to powder with each bite. The texture is peculiar, yet it somehow retains the taste of ice cream. On the other hand, the bread tastes rather plain, like ordinary bread. Surprisingly, it still manages to maintain a fresh taste.

I sit on the roof terrace with my book for a while until suddenly, sirens begin wailing all around—loads of them. Three fire engines, a police car, and an ambulance rush to a building on the same block as the hostel. The 20-storey building appears to have a fire on the twentieth floor. Firefighters swiftly ascend to the roof, and one courageous fireman descends from a rope, abseiling onto the balcony below.

firefight[1]

Twenty minutes later, the fire is extinguished, the sirens cease, and the vehicles depart. I linger on the roof a little while longer, engrossed in my book, ‘Dance Dance Dance.’ In the distance, the sky echoes with the rumbling of thunder, seemingly serving as an early warning for the impending rain. The precise moment the thunder halts, raindrops begin to fall. Deciding to set aside my book as I’m getting soaked, I grab a hostel umbrella and make my way for some food. Taking refuge in the arcade, I escape from the rain’s downpour. Through the speakers, a saxophone cover of ‘Yesterday’ by the Beatles fills the space.

I opt for Earth food: Kyoto-style Okonomiyaki. Often likened to a pancake or referred to as a Japanese-style pizza, Okonomiyaki is distinct from both. It’s made of batter, cabbage, Okonomiyaki sauce, and shavings of smoked bonito. To complete the dish, small flakes of aonori, a dried seaweed, are sprinkled over the top.

Okonomiyaki[1]

My table features a section in the middle with an iron griddle where the cooked ‘pizza’ is promptly placed. Due to the heat, the fish shavings seem to come alive, moving around on the dish. I squeeze some mayonnaise over the top. While the food tastes good, I’m not particularly fond of the sauce. Nonetheless, the rest of the meal is fantastic. I decide to add a sprinkle of chili powder to give it an extra kick.

Some places serve Okonomiyaki with raw ingredients, allowing you to cook it yourself. It’s a ‘what you like’ dish, where you can request any topping or filling you desire. Not wanting to navigate the ordering process in Japanese, I simply pointed at the word ‘vegetarian’ on the menu. The meal, along with a glass of whisky, totals ¥1010.

I head back to the hostel and, as usual, wrap up the night at the bar.