Shīsā | Japanising.com

Sometimes in Japan (and the same can be said for life in general), I have absolutely no idea what is going on. Today, a red carpet has been placed in the middle of a busy road. Not only does this carpet obstruct many motorists who drive down here every day, but it actually stretches the entire length of Kappabashi Street – and Kappabashi Street is a very long street indeed. Is the head of state making a surprise visit? Is some type of awards ceremony about to take place, perhaps? Or is there no reason at all for this vermilion impediment? Only time can provide the answer.

For the last few months, I have been trying my hand at a little private English conversation practice with just one student—a 71-year-old Japanese man who has lived in Asakusa all his life. With a keen interest in food and Japanese history, he has provided me with an endless source of knowledge about post-war Japan and the changing attitudes amongst Japanese people. I enjoy teaching him, and our conversations often cover an array of topics, such as Bonseki, China Syndrome, and foods I’ve never heard of before in my life. Today, we are heading out to try such a food.

He drives us across Tokyo to Yotsuya. On the way, he starts a conversation with the dashboard of his Toyota, instantly reminding me of something from a science-fiction movie. In Yotsuya, we visit a shop called Ariakeya. The shop specialises in selling just one dish—a Japanese delight known as ‘tsukudani’.

If I were to ask anyone to name three foods associated with Japan, tsukudani probably wouldn’t even get a mention; and, if I’m completely honest, I had never heard of it until last week. Tsukudani most commonly involves seaweed, meat, or fish (often pond fish) that has been simmered in soy sauce and mirin. It can be eaten up to a year after it is made. Many years ago, this was a staple food in Japan, but due to its high salt content, it has become somewhat less popular, with concerns about salt being bad for health and such.

The woman in the shop is very pleasant and can speak excellent English; she has even prepared an English menu for me in anticipation of my arrival. I am offered samples of various dishes before settling on my favourite, Maguro—cubes of tuna. Soft, but surprisingly chewy at the same time, the outside is extremely salty but very sweet. The middle offers a dryness that you would expect from marinated cubes of cooked tuna. Overall, the fish is pleasantly moreish.

As we leave the shop, I notice a small tray of salt outside the entrance to a restaurant, guarded by a shisa—an Okinawan dragon. Curious about the purpose of this salt display, I ask my student. In his usual enthusiastic way, he explains to me that many years ago, the Emperor of China lived in a Palace so big that the only way he could get anywhere fast was to ride around on the back of a bull. Inside the Palace, the Emperor had three thousand women, each in separate rooms. Every night, the Emperor would tour the Palace on the back of his faithful bull and decide which woman he would spend the night with.

The women knew that the Emperor rode around on a male cow; I mean, everyone knew, it was hardly a secret. The women were all desperate to marry the Emperor, for the wealth and status they would receive if such a ceremony occurred. Finally being freed from their solitary rooms in the Palace was often considered a secondary incentive. Somehow, the women discovered that the bull liked eating salt, so every night, they would place saucers of salt outside their rooms. The bull would smell the salt, stop to eat, and hopefully, the Emperor would choose that room to spend the night. Somehow, this tradition of salt piles outside of rooms came over to Japan, and salt is now placed outside many restaurants. Bulls represent customers, or so the custom goes. The story made me wonder if the idiom ‘Like a bull in a china shop’ took any of its origin from the same story, but before I have time to ask, we are back in Asakusa, and I have a red carpet to inspect.

Back at Kappabashi Street, some women are singing in front of a man that I think is supposed to be a clown. Eventually, though, answers come, and the reason for the whole street being closed off becomes apparent.

A kappa (or at least a man dressed as one) follows the red carpet, walking the length of Kappabashi Street. The kappa stops intermittently to wave at the passing crowd, walking alongside an old woman carrying a scroll, and has a big red heart painted on its back. I have no idea why. No idea about any of this.

Back at home, I dine on my neatly wrapped packet of tuna cubes, which cost ¥432. Tsukudani is usually enjoyed with rice, but I will snack on this salty-sweet tuna as it is. Unfortunately, this type of food is not too pleasing on the eye; it might look like something you would serve to a domestic animal or a bull, but its taste suggests that this might be a bit of a waste. The tuna is, in fact, delicious and perhaps one of the best foods I have tried in months. The only problem, again, is the high salt content, but that shouldn’t put you off trying it at least once.

I seldom place links to other websites, but I genuinely enjoyed the food from Ariakeya, and they were very nice to me, so here is their shop:

http://www.ariakeya.com/

The sun is shining, which naturally makes me feel productive. I head over to Roppongi to visit the Tokyo Midtown Award 2014. The awards are in their 7th year, and the ceremony is a design and art competition sponsored by Tokyo Midtown. Its aim is to discover and support future designers and artists. Fourteen award-winning artworks and designs are on display, all competing for the grand prize: a trophy designed and produced by the famous Japanese sculptor Kimio Tsuchiya.

The audience here are given the opportunity to vote by pushing a button on a digital display board. The display unfairly shows the number of votes each piece of art has received. Currently winning is a piece from Saki Maeda, called, “Konkan.”

“Konkan” is similar to the Japanese “inkan,” a name given to a personal seal commonly used in Japan in place of a signature. Inkan are akin to the emblems used in medieval England, stamped into wax to seal an envelope. This seemingly simple piece of art holds slightly more depth. My interpretation is that the two konkan represent the male (black) and female (red), lying together to symbolise the seal of marriage.

Among the other pieces are: Waami, a Japanese-patterned grill pan; Yoroikappa, an armored raincoat; Origami Tale, a fairy tale told using paper folding; Harmonaca, a box of harmonica-shaped sweets filled with red-bean paste; and Omikuji, a selection of Japanese fortune picks. The winner of the competition will be announced on Friday, November 7th.

My favourite piece is Toru Otsuka’s, Empty Freezer.

The reason I vote for this piece is not just for the incredible design, but also for the fitting message that accompanies it:

“Buddhism teaches of impermanence, that there is a beginning and end to all things. As long as this world is impermanent. Buddhist statues will some day fade just as disposable cups do, and may not be much different. However, Buddhist statues and disposable goods are considered separate. That is why I would like to use the same carving techniques for Buddhist statues on disposable goods, indicating my questioning of existing values.”

After browsing all the pieces vying for the prize, I step back into the sunshine and make my way to the outdoor display area. Today, an exhibition called ‘Seating Forest’ is taking place. The setting is hardly a forest; instead, it’s a collection of diverse chairs, each carrying a unique theme or artistic edge.

There are seats that take the concept of ‘musical chairs’ a bit too literally, crafted from musical instruments; sitting down causes the seat to play music. Additionally, two chairs shaped like ears are placed on opposite sides of the forest. These ears are somehow connected, allowing communication between the individuals seated in them. However, the standout chair is a wooden structure featuring a seat on a pulley, with apples hanging from above. It allows me to hoist myself up into the sky while remaining seated.

After Roppongi, I head over to Asakusa. Today, two of my friends are playing afternoon jazz music at a bar called Soultrane, named after the Coltrane album. The bar is a bit tricky to locate, but eventually, I find it, pay my ¥2000 ‘music charge,’ and take a seat. It’s tiny, with a drum kit in one corner and a grand piano in the other. Other instruments here include a double bass, a trumpet, two guitars, and a flute.

There are about ten people here, all flipping through sheet music books—a music collective and the closest thing to an open mic event I’ve found in Japan. As a song finishes, people applaud in appreciation, and then the owner/barman calls out names. If your name is called, you get up and play, even if you have no knowledge of the song. If he asks for the trumpet and you play the trumpet, you perform. After two hours of live spontaneous jazz, we all part ways.

I wander through Asakusa for a while, and head to where all the performing artists hang out. This afternoon, they are wrestling.

The four wrestlers are incredibly lively, each dressed as characters from popular television shows. Pikachu is seen taking a beating from a character resembling Goku from Dragon Ball Z. Meanwhile, a ninja stealthily moves about, brandishing ‘Kapow!’ signs in true Batman style at precisely the right moments. Adding to the chaos, a person dressed in pink manages to overpower everyone using their tail. The scene is a whirlwind of props and rapid costume changes.

Eventually, the wrestling finishes and is replaced by the spray paint space art performer, whom I’ve seen many times before. I decide to continue wandering around. As I stroll, I pass by five geishas adorned in full makeup. Soon after, the sound of drums catches my attention, prompting me to follow the noise until I arrive at Kokusai Street.

In the middle of the road, music fills the air. Today marks a festival celebrating music and dance from the Okinawa Islands. Okinawa, situated as the furthest southwest prefecture in Japan, lies directly south of Kyushu. With its tropical climate and frequent encounters with typhoons, Okinawa seems to be both an attractive and challenging place to live. Interestingly, Okinawans have a longer life expectancy than people from anywhere else in the world, attributed to their incredibly healthy diet.

There are about ten different acts from the islands, and the procession traverses the full length of the street, culminating on an outdoor stage situated on the second floor of a hotel. The music is fantastic, and the dancing is equally impressive. Some of the costumes or characters, however, are rather intimidating.

Shisa, the official mascot of the island of Okinawa, embodies a fusion of a lion and a dog and is believed to ward off evil spirits. Three shisa are present today, each seemingly more intimidating than the last. Ironically, the only spirits here that appear malevolent are these lion-dog creatures themselves.

As I watch the well-choreographed dancing and listen to the music, I notice a sign proclaiming ‘Best International Authentic Town,’ while another heralds the event’s tenth year celebration. However, the only downside to the event is the absence of stalls vending local cuisine—those dishes known for their health benefits and longevity. I’ve been curious to try the exotic ‘dragon fruit’ of Okinawa, but alas, there are neither dragons nor fruits in sight.

I stay at the festival until it ends, then head home to dream of lion dogs wrestling with giant Pokémon, all set to the music of ‘Polka Dots and Moonbeams’.

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A Handful of Salt

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