Humourous Honne and Tatamae

A look at the outside and the in

By THOMAS DILLON

"Honne and tatemae" are terms that many feel are linchpinned to the Japanese psyche.

The first — honne — refers to the intimate truth of the soul, one's uttermost honest feelings, the rough skin under all the powder and rouge.

The second — tatemae — is the face one shows to the world. That toothy grin that perhaps hides one's desire to bite. Analogous to the aluminum siding that helps the house gleam on the surface, while the inside bursts with termites.

One wrinkle to these terms is that many Japanese feel that theirs is the only culture to be so Jekyll-and-Hyde-ish.

Some Japanese can be goofy that way. Like those who believe Japan is the only land with four seasons. Or those that claim the Japanese language is so tough that not even Japanese can speak it well. A claim they always communicate in sparkling Japanese.

But every culture has honne and tatemae. It's as human as flatulence. Which could mean that some people are more human than others.

I, for example, have a lot of . . . honne and tatemae. It waltzes through my life like a New York debutant, smiling while her partner tromps upon her foot. Tatemae cancels out the honne. At least from the outside.

But oh if only someone could peek on the inside . . .

I stand picking at stale munchies as the only foreigner at the party, when I notice this troll of a fellow edging my way and fidgeting with his plate. I catch the body language at once. He's going to trap me in the corner and practice his English.

So I gaze the other way and pray for rescue. Or that perhaps some construction crane will topple in the wind and rip the building in half. Maybe if I focus my willpower, the wind will blow and a crane will fall and this man will be sucked into the chasm. Or I will. Anything to get away. Maybe . . .

Yes? Oh, how do you do? Nice to meet you. Why, yes, it's a splendid party. Just delightful. I agree. Have you tried the rice crackers? Superb, aren't they? Good napkins too. Oh, no, I don't mind. Not at all. And your English sounds quite fluent to me. As clear as crystal.

But if the letter "L" had life, you'd be wanted for murder. And are those vowels in your mouth? Or marbles? I've heard better sounds from forks jammed in the disposal. Yet I enjoy the way you spit when you speak. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine I am on a distant beach being sprayed by surf. And not caught in this corner.

My hometown? Chicago, kind of. Oh yes, that's right. Chicago was home to Al Capone. You know well. No, I never met him. Not once. Unfortunately. That's been a while ago. Oh? You have been to Vancouver? For 10 days? No wonder you speak English so well.

And it's a wonder the Canadians let you escape. They are sensitive people and don't care to see any language butchered, let alone one of their own. If you'd been there any longer, I am sure they would have fed you to the bears. Bears are not sensitive, you see. They will eat anyone. Even someone with a necktie as bright as yours.

Oh, you teach English. I should have guessed. At your home. To small children. It sounds fascinating. Well . . . I am busy. But sure. Sometime, if it worked out, I'd enjoy meeting your students. I bet they're cute. And, yes, I'd love to speak with them and let them practice.

Just about as much as I'd love to take a power drill to my knee. I can't believe people pay you money to teach. Are you sure the money's real? Maybe the entire neighborhood is playing you for a joke. I'd check if I were you.

What? You have to go? So soon? Oh, too bad! I'll just have to eat all this great food myself. Uh, sorry, I don't have a name card. But thanks for yours. I'll be sure to get in touch. I'm glad we met. It was nice talking to you.

What luck! I was just about to throw myself on my chopsticks. I'll just drop h is card on the table. Who knows? Maybe someone will eat it. It looks better than the crackers. Probably is too. Now, how to get out of here?

Oh, you're back! You misread your wristwatch! Ha, ha. Yes, I do that all the time. You have another hour? Wonderful. No, wait! I'll get you more crackers myself. You just stay here. No, no. It's my pleasure. Honest. . . .

Or as honest as my tatemae will allow.

My honne, on the other hand, hopes the only thing I have to kill is an hour.

Amazing Japanese vocab and expressions about relationships

Back to basics: The choice of seihin or kinben

By MICHAEL HOFFMAN

"You're up very late," says Reiko.

What time is it?"

"Past 2."

"Really. I no longer know what time of day or night it is."

"Let's talk, Stu." Reiko sits down in the chair across the desk from me. We are in my room, my office, my study (shosai, 書斎), my hermitage (iori, 庵) — what I call it depends on my mood. "Let's talk — without anger, without sarcasm (ikari nashi, hiniku nashi, 怒りなし、皮肉なし). We haven't done very much of that lately, have we?"

"No, we haven't."

"What's that you're reading?"

I show her the book — a slim volume of poems by the Edo Period (江戸時代) hermit-monk (inja, 隠者) Ryokan (良寛) (1758-1831). "I'm thinking of taking a vow of poverty (seihin no chikai, 清貧の誓い)."

"I'm trying not to smile."

Listen: " 'Kusa no iori ni ashi sashinobete . . . (In my grass hermitage, stretching out my legs . . . 草の庵に足差し伸べて . . . )' "

"You're not the ascetic type (kinyokushugisha no taipu de wa nai, 禁欲主義者のタイプではない)."

"No? But you know, I think deep down (naishin de wa, 内心では) I am the ascetic type. 'Hachi no ko ni sumire tampopo ... (In my begging bowl, violets and dandelions, 鉢のこにスミレタンポポ ...)' Hmm. To change the subject slightly (wadai wo kaeru, 話題を変える) — shall I tell you where I was today?"

"If it's fit for a prim matron (katakurushii fujin, かたくるしい婦人) to hear."

"I went to see a magazine editor who's interested in having me write a column."

"Oh, Stu, that's ..."

"Wait. It's not settled yet (mada kimatte inai, まだ決まっていない). There are a few things we don't quite see eye to eye on (iken ga icchi shite inai, 意見が — 致していない). It's a monthly magazine called Varya. Here, have a look."

There's a copy on the desk, and I push it toward her.

"It's quite good, actually. You'll notice it has an article on seihin (清貧, literally "clean poverty"), which is what got me started on Ryokan. You say I'm not the 禁欲主義者 type, but did I ever tell you what got me interested in Japan in the first place? It wasn't 'Japan Inc.,' or all this high-tech gadgetry, or bubble economies, or any of that. It was precisely 清貧 — back then of course it was called wabi (侘, beauty found in poverty and simplicity). What this article is saying is that this recession (fukeiki, 不景気) we're mired in is maybe a good chance to return to some good old Japanese traditions (dentō, 伝統) that got swamped in the headlong rush to material prosperity (busshitsuteki na yutakasa, 物質的な豊かさ) and utilitarianism (jitsurishugi, 実利主義)."

"I enjoy Ryokan's poetry too — but I wouldn't want to live like him, and I doubt you would either."

"What you're saying is that you know me better than I know myself."

"Why does everything I say make you angry (okoraseru, 怒らせる)?"

"I'm sorry — oh, sit down! Don't get offended (hara wo tatenai de, 腹を立てないで) at every stupid little thing I say!"

"How did you meet this editor?"

"A former student introduced me. She's his niece."

"And what is it you don't see eye to eye on?"

"Well, maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill (sasai na koto wo ō gesa ni iu, 些細なことを大げさに言う), but the guy's politics are, shall we say, just a little rightwing (uyokuteki, 右翼的). I mean, there's nothing wrong with patriotism (aikokushugi, 愛国主義), and I myself tend to be a bit conservative (hoshuteki, 保守的), at least in the sense of wanting to conserve (tamotsu, 保つ) the old outmoded traditions like wabi, but . . . well, in a word, he's a bit of a creep (zotto saseru, ぞっとさせる)."

"It's better than doing nothing, isn't it?"

"You know, honestly, I'm not sure about that. There's a lot to be said for doing nothing. How did Ryokan put it? 'Ukiyo wo koko ni kado sashite . . . (浮世をここに門さして, I shut my gate on the floating world) . . . ' "

"Ryokan didn't have a family. You have two children. It's up to you to set an example (tehon wo shimesu, 手本を示す) of diligence (kinben, 勤勉), don't you think?"

"Not really. What for? You're diligent enough for the both of us."

Calligraphy and studyng kanji

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

BILINGUAL

Appreciating kanji can unleash your inner art critic

By MARK SCHREIBER

Special to The Japan Times

As exotic as kanji (Sino-Japanese logographs) may appear to the uninitiated, most of those we encounter in everyday situations are intended to convey notices and other mundane or essential information, such as 禁煙 kin'en (no smoking) or 駅長室 (ekichō-shitsu, stationmaster's office).

But as one's comprehension of kanji grows, so does awareness of the historical and cultural baggage its characters bring with them.

From a character's style, some readers will know at a glance the era in which it was created and its purpose. And from that point, you become not only a reader but a history buff and art critic.

The oldest known examples of ideographs are those excavated in China's Henan Province, which are believed to date from the 11th to 14th centuries B.C. About 2,000 of these 亀甲獣骨文字 (kikko jūkotsu moji, tortoise-shell and animal-bone characters), which were used for divination, are known to exist, although not all of them have been deciphered. While crudely inscribed, they are amazingly readable, and it is indisputable that these are the lineal ancestors of today's kanji.

What was to become the predominant form of kanji in use today, the semi-cursive 楷書 (kaisho) style evolved between A.D. 200 and 600. This also coincides with the period when the Chinese writing system was introduced to Japan.

As opposed to Chinese, which is written entirely in kanji, Japanese writing began to combine kanji with its hiragana and/or katakana phonetic script. To make the mixed text appear more attractive, the style of written Japanese gradually began to diverge from Chinese.

During the Edo Period (1603-1867), a uniquely Japanese style with exaggerated, heavy "wormlike" strokes known as 江戸文字 (Edo moji, Edo characters) made its appearance. Written in several different styles, Edo moji can still be seen in kabuki theater programs and on sumo banzuke (ranking lists).

Japanese designers have created a tremendous variety of 書体 (shotai, typefaces), from playful juvenile ones used in comic books to those shouting from the neon signs that illuminate Ginza. They can be found in gothic, ornate and baroque styles. They can appear to be dripping blood — conveying horror or the bizarre and grotesque as manically as the works of Spanish surrealist painter Salvador Dali.

While the general trend in recent years has been for corporate logos and product names to adopt the Roman alphabet, kanji still hold their own, thanks to the work of innovative designers such as Katsuichi Ito.

Ito, author of "漢字の感じ" ("Kanji no Kanji" ["The Feeling of Kanji"]), is brilliant at modifying characters to graphically convey both their meaning and spirit. His work can be found on the walls and shopping bags at 食遊館 (Shokuyūkan), the food sections in Marui department stores.

Even more exotic are the characters created by design firm Zetuei, which developed a "cyborg" typeface. Zetuei even produced a four-page newspaper, the "鼎國経済新聞" ("Teikoku Keizai Shimbun" ["Tripod Country Economic News"]) written entirely in these characters; reading it is like trying to decipher the Rosetta Stone.

The most perceptive and readable critique I have encountered about kanji is "Chinese Calligraphy," published in 1938 by Chiang Yee (1903-77). The book was reissued in 1974 by Harvard University Press. It is lavishly illustrated with useful examples throughout its 230 pages, and Chiang not only explains the principles of good calligraphy but also demonstrates, equally instructively, what constitutes "bad" calligraphy.

Japan on a Budget

Cheapskate Confessions: Japan on a Budget

It’s no secret that Japan is an expensive destination.

In fact, Tokyo has recently reclaimed its spot as the world’s most expensive city, with Osaka-Kobe right behind, according to the Worldwide Cost of Living Survey.

Well even in one of the world’s most expensive countries, a vacation doesn’t have to bring on budgetary meltdown.

We’ll show you how to defy the naysayers and survive your trip to Japan with a few extra bucks left in your wallet.

FIRST THINGS FIRST

Before you can even worry about where you’re going to eat or sleep, you’ve got to buy a plane ticket.

Luckily, if you know where to look, you can get one pretty cheaply. How cheap? Well, during the off season — for example, in March or April — prices frequently dip below $500. The secret is to use a Japanese travel agency.

Since these agencies buy tickets in bulk, their prices can be significantly cheaper than Orbitz or Expedia or other travel companies that don’t have a specific regional focus. These companies don’t devote much effort to advertising themselves in English, so few people know about the deals they offer.

Prices offered by different travel agencies can vary significantly, so if you’re truly devoted to truly cheap cheapness, we recommend that you proceed through the list below and obtain a quote from each and every agency before purchasing your ticket. Remember that you can always call the agency up and speak to them in English.

Ticket Scout Japan

Professional Travel Manager/Ticket Scout

ticketscoutjapan@gmail.com

Amnet
(800) 929-2663
http://www.amnet-usa.com (Japanese)

HIS USA
(800) ASK-4-HIS
http://his-usa.com/ja/top/Top.aspx (Japanese)

IACE Travel USA
(800) 872-4223
http://www.iace-usa.com/index_us.htm (English version)

JTB USA
(800) 235-3523
http://www.jtbusa.com/enhome (English version)

Kintetsu International
(630) 250-8840
http://www.kintetsu.com (English)

NaviTour USA
(800) 303-2006
http://www.navitourusa.com/en/s.phtml (English)

One last note: international travel specialists like San Francisco-based Air Brokers (http://www.airbrokers.com) can sometimes beat the prices of even the Japanese travel agencies!

EAT CHEAP

It’s true that Japan is the land of $8 orange juice and $50 cantaloupe, and that food and drinks can be really expensive if you just go stumbling into any old place and blindly order items. But there are some ways to get a cheap meal in Japan…

Our first suggestion is to search out Japanese fast food chains like Matsuya and Yoshinoya. These places will serve you a beef bowl or a plate of curry for $4-$5. If you get tired of this fare, try convenience stores, which offer ready-made food of all kinds for decent prices.

If you’re looking for something with a bit more culinary merit, try a kaitenzushi, a sushi restaurant where the food comes around to you on a conveyor belt, served on plates that are color-coded to indicate price. When your wallet is empty, stop eating. Ramen is another inexpensive option, and luckily the restaurant version tastes a lot better than the instant stuff sold in the US.

McDonald’s — a chain as ubiquitous in Japan as in America — is always a good bet for cheap eats, but it’s kind of a cop-out. I mean, having made the long journey to Japan, you wouldn’t even think of settling for a burger and fries, right?

Also note that in most Japanese restaurants, if they bring you any kind of appetizer, you’re going to have to pay for it. If you don’t want it, just say you don’t want it. Or put on an icky face and make frenzied “go away” motions with your hands.

SLEEP CHEAP

In Japan, as in most places, youth hostels are generally the cheapest option. Hostels.com (http://hostels.com) lists several establishments that’ll sell you a bed in Tokyo for less than $20. We hope this outrageous reasonableness comes as a pleasant surprise.

If you can’t or don’t want to stay in a youth hostel, try a business hotel. You should have no problem finding a room for less than $100. Do keep in mind that these places are pretty cramped. Bathrooms, for instance, are often little more than glorified shower stalls.

If you think a business hotel might fit your needs, take a look at Super Hotel’s English-language website (http://www.superhotel.co.jp/en). This chain does everything possible to cut costs, going so far as to eliminate phones in guests’ rooms. Prices vary based on location, but the cost for a room tends to hover right around $50. The English version of the website doesn’t feature all the chain’s locations, but it does list options at popular destinations.

There are plenty of interesting alternative choices.

Assuming you’re not claustrophobic, you might want to try a capsule hotel. Popular with drunken businessmen who’ve missed the last train, capsule hotels will offer you a space barely big enough to wriggle into, but they are inexpensive.

Capsule hotels probably aren’t a good option for couples or families, since the environment isn’t suitable for kids and many don’t allow women. But if it works for you, expect to pay just about $30 a night.

Alternately, you could stay overnight at a love hotel. These are intended for couples in need of an hour or two of private time, but they offer nightly rates which can be significantly lower than those of regular hotels.

Love hotels list rates for “rest” and “stay.” The “rest” rate is the per-hour rate and the “stay” rate is for the full night.

A significant upshot to this choice is that these places are overflowing with, er, character. We’re talking heart-shaped beds and TV with all the channels. “Stay” rates average about $50.

If your luggage is light and you’re truly into pinching pennies, you could also spend the night at an internet/manga cafe, where you pay one flat fee to use the computer and read comics over a cup of tea for a fixed amount of time. Nobody’s going to think you’re weird if you do this.

Many of these places actually offer overnight packages, which can run as low as $10. Typically, you’ll get your own little cubicle with a reclining chair, and if you’re lucky, the place might even have a shower.

CHEAP TRANSPORTATION

Our first tip is to never even think about using a taxi. Banish the thought from your mind.

A taxi ride from Tokyo’s Narita airport into the city costs approximately $160 and takes about two hours. By contrast, a ticket on a non-express train costs $10-$12 and takes around an hour and a half. Now, in many other cities around the world, public transportation often isn’t the most pleasant or most efficient way to get around, but Japanese trains run on time, are very clean and go just about everywhere you want them to.

At most stations, you’ll buy your tickets from a machine that can display instructions in English. The only thing that’s annoying about relying on trains is that they generally stop running between midnight and 1:00 a.m. Taxis prowl the streets looking for those who’ve missed the cutoff.

If your travel plans involve flitting around from city to city, you might save some money by purchasing a Japan Rail Pass (http://www.japanrailpass.net). Japan Rail, or JR, operates the majority of the rail lines in the country and can take you just about anywhere you want to go. Passes are sold in 7-day, 14-day, and 21-day increments. The nice thing is that the Japan Rail Pass is eligible for travel about the “shinkansen,” or bullet train, a super-fast, fun, and all-around really neat form of transportation that is ordinarily rather expensive. A 7-day Japan Rail Pass runs about $350. The pass is not sold in Japan, so you’ll need to pick one up before arriving there.

If you happen to be traveling to Japan during a school holiday, consider buying a seishun juhachi kippu (”18-year-old youth’s ticket”), a super-cheap, all-you-can-ride train pass. The passes are only available for purchase during school holidays (ie- they go on sale just before vacation starts, but most likely won’t be available at the very end of the vacation period).

The passes are only valid on JR’s slower trains. Despite the name, anybody can use a seishun juhachi kippu, and they are available for purchase at most JR stations. Each seishun juhachi kippu gives you five days of unlimited travel and costs about $100. Two or more people can use one ticket on the same day. For your reference, the school vacation schedule in Japan is roughly as follows:

March 1 - April 10
July 20 - September 10
December 10 - January 20

We’ll throw out one more option for those looking to travel long distances: the glorious overnight bus, a transport institution known and loved by Japan’s young and penniless. Overnight buses are uncomfortable and cramped but cheap. A trip from Tokyo to Osaka will set you back about $80, which is definitely less expensive than a trip by plane or shinkansen.

Japan Bus Web (http://www.bus.or.jp/e/index.html) operates a large English database chock full of detailed bus info.

OTHER STUFF

So you’ve probably got all kinds of ideas about stuff you want to do once you get to Japan. Unavoidably, most of that stuff is going to cost money. But don’t forget that people-watching can be an enjoyable–and completely free–activity. Great places to do this include Shibuya and Harajuku in Tokyo and America-mura in Osaka. Japan is full of colorful and crazy fashions and just sitting on the sidelines and watching the crowd can be pretty entertaining.

You might think about working some hiking and/or camping into your schedule. These activities are fun, provide you with opportunities to meet local people, and are cheap to boot. Check out Outdoor Japan (http://www.outdoorjapan.com) for some information on outdoor activities. And remember… it’s completely free to climb Mt. Fuji. Just remember to take your own drinks and snacks, since those sold onsite are way overpriced.

One final tip that may shave a few bucks off the total cost of your trip: although many people consider travelers’ checks an anachronism now that ATMs are so widespread, bringing traveler’s checks to Japan will net you a slightly better exchange rate. If you can get the traveler’s checks for free, you’ll save a little money in the end.

YOU CAN DO IT

Anybody who told you it couldn’t be done was just saying it to make themselves feel better. Cheap travel in Japan isn’t an impossibility. It takes dedication and planning and maybe a little self-deprivation, but in the end, returning home from such an ultra-expensive country with some change to spare is a pretty good feeling.

Being Nihontsū: Japanophiles in our own country

By KAORI SHOJI

"Wakonyōsai (和魂洋才, the soul of a Japanese and the talents of a Westerner)" was a phrase once used to describe the ideal of the modern, enlightened Japanese. This perfect person supposedly combined the knowledge, logic and open-mindedness of the West with the principled restraint, sense of honor and stoicism of the Japanese samurai. The concept went out with the surrender in World War II, and in its place emerged the embracing of all things Western. But wakonyōsai has made an inconspicuous comeback in recent years.

The arasā (アラサー, around 30) generation, unencumbered by the seiyōsūhai (西洋崇拝, worship of the West) that plagued their parents and grandparents — have recognized the value of Japanese culture and aesthetics while at the same time being firmly entrenched in the Western lifestyle they've known since birth.

"Nihonjin wa kakkoii yo (Japanese people are cool)," says my wakonyōsai friend Jinpachi, who has traversed the world with little more than a sanshin (三線, Okinawan banjo-like instrument) strapped to his back and his passport stashed in a pocket of his cargo pants. In praise of himself and his fellow shinsedai (新世代, new generation) Japanese, he always says: "Oretachi wa Nihonjin ni mo gaijin ni mo narete jiyūjizai (俺たちは日本人にも外人にもなれて自由自在, We're free to be both Japanese and gaijin [foreign])."

For a long time, this sort of freedom was strictly off limits. As recently as 20 years ago, the Japanese in Japan were expected to adhere to a behavioral rule book — invisible but solidly concrete and almost impossible to defy. The taboos ranged from the mundane (arukigui, 歩き食い, eating on the street) to conversational topics (income, educational background and family information).

Atarisawarinai (あたりさわりない, inoffensiveness) was the national standard. There was a pecking order to every sort of relationship, and talking to someone older — even a year older — meant one had to talk in keigo (敬語, a polite and reverential way of speaking).

As for women, the rules doubled for those in toshibu (都市部, cities) and quadrupled in the inaka (田舎, countryside). Being a woman in the inaka meant having to watch one's step 24/7 — the closely knit community of shinseki (親戚, relatives) and elders refused to leave her alone. If she were not married by age 28, she was labeled ikiokure (いき遅れ, too late for marriage). If she did become a yome (嫁, a wife tied to her husband, his parents and their house), then she had better breed soon after (generally within three years), for a childless woman was called umazume (石女, stone woman) and was often forced to divorce. For such a person to go back and forth between Japanese and gaijin values and expect people to accept him or her for it was arienai (あり得ない, unthinkable)!

Now, of course, the winds of kajyuaru (カジュアル, casual) blow in the remotest areas of our island nation. What had been arienai two decades ago is atarimae (当たり前, matter of course) as the barriers of language and behavior are demolished in the name of kokusaika (国際化, internationalization) and the latest favorite social phrase, gurōbaru na shiten (グローバルな視点, a global viewpoint)."

Japanese have realized that to cut it in the global community, one must think and act accordingly, though with less emphasis on conversational skills than on behavior and state of mind. Consequently, they've become friendlier, more open to new ideas, flexible and logical. On the other hand, they're far less polite, reverent or restrained. It's said that there's no such thing anymore as a jyunsuina Nihonjin (純粋な日本人, pure Japanese) and that, to varying degrees, we've become gaijin blends — but with knowledge and appreciation for Japanese culture: Nihontsū (日本通, Japanophiles) in our own country.

The first Japanese to make the shift to gaijin mode was probably 16th-century warlord Oda Nobunaga, who consorted with Jesuit missionaries, declared war on Buddhist monks and built the nation's first iron battleship and a legendary castle that impressed the pope in Rome. He had the sharp, logical intellect of the Westerner and was one of the very first Japanese to understand that the earth was round. Understandably, Oda abhorred conventions and tradition, and he declared that the Japanese were plagued with their own boring insistence on being Japanese. But, at the core, he was a samurai, and he committed seppuku (切腹, ritual suicide by slitting the stomach) at the age of 49 after being betrayed by a trusted underling. He never left Japan.