A Day of Firsts

Today was a day of firsts.

I began the day with a trip to the Mitsubishi Bank (Japan’s largest bank chain) to set up an account for the salary I will receive from my summer internship. While the term is thrown around a lot, I am proud to say that I now have a genuine “off shore” account in which to deposit all of my laundered money.

In order to set up a Japanese bank account, we all needed what are called “hanko” or name stamps (the Stanford Center had these made for us). These small oblong plastic stamps are officially registered with the government and act as a legally binding signature for things such as bank accounts, mail delivery, and company business transactions. They sell fake hanko in department stores for a few hundred yen, but I could never find any that resembled my name. I guess there aren’t too many Bentaros or Benichiros running around Japan. The one I have now however is official, registered, and has my name on it in Japanese.

On a related note, Japanese ATM machines rival Stephen Hawking in IQ. These machines let you deposit any combination of coins and bills into your account, act as a Coin Star machine – converting any unwanted change into “folding money,” and even automatically balance your checkbook. This last one is not a joke. You simply hit the “update my checkbook” button, and a little door opens which sucks in your checkbook. After 10 seconds, the machine spits it out and, low and behold, the register page now has an up-to-date printed log. When people talk about Japan as the most technologically advanced society on the face of the planet, this is the type of innovations they are talking about.

Later in the day, I continued with another first - visiting Kiyomizu Temple (清水寺). Due to its high elevation and picturesque balcony that overlooks the surrounding forestland; Kiyomizu is the most famous temple in Kyoto. The name literally means “pure water” in Japanese. Kiyomizu is said to have drinkable water with healing properties. Since Kiyomizu-Dera is a HUGE tourist attraction, the small shop-lined streets leading up to the temple grounds were packed with gaijin tourists. There was a neat little shop that sold some really weird, ghoulish looking artwork pieces that I thought were very neat (if not a little bit frightening).

Kiyomizu Temple worships the monk turned Bodhisattva Jizo. Jizo is thought to be the merciful and compassionate side of a powerful god - The nasty and unforgiving side is named Kanon. Jizo is usually represented as an old bald monk-looking man with large geta sandals. Jizo (under different names) comes from Indian and later Chinese Buddhism. Only in Japanese Buddhism however, is Jizo believed to be the savior of children.

After my trip to the temple, Kevin and I met up later to go to dinner. Here was another first – eating Oden. Oden is a traditional wintertime food in Japan. It is a mishmash of tofu, fishcake, lotus root, daikon radish, and other cheap foods cooked overnight in a sweet broth. It reminded me of a Japanese style stew almost. The flavor was very yummy, but it was heavily overpriced given the amount of food you got. When I was in Akihabara in Tokyo before my overseas program started, I remember seeing oden being sold in a can with a cute female manga character featured on the front. I asked an anti-social Japanese kid once what it was and he practically jumped through the store window to get away from me.

On the way home after dinner - another first! I, and every other passerby, came across an ojisan (elderly gentlemen) passed out due to too much sake intake. This man who looked to be in his late 50s / early 60s was lying spread-eagle in the middle of the sidewalk on the busiest street in downtown Kyoto. He had obviously drunk too much and was sleeping peacefully. He had taken off his shoes, rolled up his jacket and placed it under his head, and stretched out his arms and legs to make a giant X with his body, as if to take up the maximum amount of space possible on the busy downtown sidewalk.

An old Japanese saying goes “Deru kugi wa utareru” or, “the nail that protrudes gets hammered down.” I can’t think of anything that better describes this, the Japanese peoples’ general preference for “not standing out” in group situations than the following image. One-by-one, tens and tens of Japanese people of all ages, shapes and sizes, carefully played a game of hopscotch, skipping and stepping in between the sprawled out limbs of the sidewalk man, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. As I did the same, pushed forward by the mass of people to my rear, I looked back to see couples still holding hands and cell phone conversations not missing a beat as people stepped right over the unconscious man.

As I crossed the Kamo River, I saw an ambulance speed by and police officers march past me. I guess somebody must have done the right thing.

B.E.W.