Y150@Minato Mirai, Yokohama

2009 marks the 150th year of Yokohama’s status as an open port. Ever since Commodore Perry of the United States Navy forced Japan to open her ports (despite prior decades of mostly forgotten trade with various foreign nations), Yokohama has considered itself the hub of cosmopolitanism in Japan. Unfortunately, that seems to have missed in the city’s 150th anniversary celebrations which notably lack English translations of any kind. It is cosmopolitanism in a narrow sense, acknowledging that foreign enclaves once existed and have since dispersed without really opening itself to foreign tourists, despite the fact that one would find English or even other languages in other more fleeting exhibitions.

Yet still, it was nice to look around. The main exhibitions are based in Minato Mirai, home of some famous red brick buildings which acted as the customs houses of the ports. Minato Mirai marks the convergence of past and as its name implies, future. It is also a pleasant urban landscape set against the quiet beauty of harbour waters.

Tickets to enter the three locations at Minato Mirai typically cost ¥2,400, but there are concessions available, and the most important of these is the night-time entry price: ¥1,200. At this lower price, I believe the price is worthwhile, but there isn’t really all that much for ¥2,400. At night it is cooler and the cityscape is at its best.

The first place we entered was home to four attractions. The first was a ENEOS stand full of company propaganda about how this oil company is helping the environment, it even had baseball star Ichiro to back up their presentation, but largely it was forgettable. Across the way was the much more important historical exhibition which showed Yokohama’s technological development following the arrival of Perry’s ‘Black Ships’, including the introduction of the steam train, gas lamps, western style suits, and food products. The entrance is flanked by period US Marine cut-outs and Edo-era samurai retainers, and this kind of cardboard presentation continues throughout. Below we see Perry and a retainer in negotiations about Japan’s closed ports.

Outside was the real highlight of this particular section: the food court… wait, I mean La Machine, a French art project involving a giant, robotic spider. The stuff of my nightmares.

Piloted by several technicians, la Machine moves with an awkward, tentative grace and really captures the animal it intends to, even if spiders aren’t (thankfully) blessed with the ability to spew out steam from their front and rear. The dance occurs several times a day, and is best seen from the terrace of the food court.

We moved onto the second area across the road. This section contains a movie theatre, although we didn’t really arrive at the right time to see it, and a big spherical balloon. The balloon is a projector screen, and the show played upon it addresses the lost of habitat and other environmental issues. The story, called ‘Home’, is quite brief (a few minutes long) and relatively abstract (lacking any narrative), but makes a succinct point.

We didn’t dwell too long in this section, mostly because there was nothing else there, and also because it was getting late, so we headed over to the final section, a Nissan-run celebration of ecological technology, or perhaps more particularly, a very large advertisement for a future electric car concept. We were hustled into a Super Hi-Vision cinema, skipping the immediate exhibits (which included space tech), and were presented with the crispiest moving images and best surround sound I’ve ever watched. Two videos were played, the first was called ‘Gift’ from Hawai’i, which was essentially a tech demo, demonstrating the system’s fidelity through a series of vignettes: hang-gliding, diving, and American football. So far, so very IMAX. Then came Nissan’s video which was a typically cheesy, romantic look at nature and kids at play. In terms of the latter part of the exhibit, which I will come to in a minute, the theatre section lacked any real point. It was out of place, and didn’t really set the scene for what was to come.

We were herded into the next room where we sat on tree trunk-like seats made of paper. In there, Nissan presented the future of electric cars: a cutesy little robot thing called Pibo. It was installed in the dashboard of a bubble-shaped car which had three seats, the driver being flanked by two passengers. The car’s wheels could turn at right angles with no turning circle, and the cockpit could turn to match it. A video attempted to show us how useful this could be for ambulances in Japan’s small cramped roads (although where you could put a patient is not mentioned), as well as parking. As an electric car, it could enter the home so that old people needn’t climb steps or fiddle with doors; although without a genkan of sorts, I don’t think many Japanese would take to it. It was propaganda of the highest order, a nice concept that stank of its corporate master’s branding.

In the final room, on a small piece of crepe paper we wrote what we could do today to help the environment, I wrote something about turning off the air-conditioners in my feeble Japanese, before we fed it into a suction tube that whisked it off into a giant bubble. Looking at what other people wrote was pretty fun, although clearly some were stuck for ideas. We then mingled around the impressive-looking installation, stomping on piezo-generators and so on, but again, there wasn’t really much to be done, so we piled out into the night air to reflect on the experience.

At their heart, the ideas presented in the Y150 locations were quite good, but really lacked in terms of cohesion and presentation. I couldn’t help but wonder why Yokohama hadn’t tried to internationalise it by making it more foreigner friendly. The latter part of the Nissan presentation and the historical side really could have done with some other languages or directions. Perhaps I missed the English language guide or something, but this could have been Yokohama’s World Expo, a celebration of its role as an international port and the origins of Japanese technological prowess. While I didn’t get a chance to see all the other parts of the Y150 (in Yamashita Park, for instance, or near Zoorasia), I was left wondering how the could justify the entry price when the beautiful urban landscape of Minato Mirai was available for free.

Google Earth vs the Burakumin

The Japan Times today published an AP report on Google’s most recent clash with a civil rights group:

When Google Earth added historical maps of Japan to its online collection last year, the search giant didn’t expect a backlash. [...] But Google failed to judge how its offering would be received, as it has often done in Japan. The company is now facing inquiries from the Justice Ministry and angry accusations of prejudice because its maps detailed the locations of former low-caste communities.

[...]

Lists of “dirty” addresses circulate on Internet bulletin boards. Some surveys have shown that such neighborhoods have lower property values and residents have been the target of racial taunts and graffiti. But the modern locations of the old villages are largely unknown to the public, and many burakumin prefer it that way.

Google Earth’s maps pinpointed several such areas. One village in Tokyo was clearly labeled “eta,” a now strongly derogatory word for burakumin that literally means “filthy mass.” A single click showed the streets and buildings that are currently in the same area.

Google posted the maps as one of many “layers” available via its mapping software, each of which can be easily matched up with modern satellite imagery. The company provided no explanation or historical context, as is common practice in Japan. Its basic stance is that its actions are acceptable because they are legal, one that has angered burakumin leaders.

“If there is an incident because of these maps, and Google is just going to say ‘It’s not our fault’ or ‘It’s down to the user,’ then we have no choice but to conclude that Google’s system itself is a form of prejudice,” said Toru Matsuoka, an Upper House Diet member. [...]

[For more information on the Burakumin's history, take a look at my previous post on the issue: Burakumin]

Of course, Google has recently been under fire (in Japan and the UK especially) for invading people’s privacy with Google Streetview. Personally, I have no problem with that. It is a highly useful tool, and it’s not really an invasion of privacy… it’s not real time, it’s just a snapshot of the street and its houses that is far less intrusive than actually  standing outside someone’s house. I can’t go through the bins, I can’t look inside the windows, and what I see could be months or years old.

Of course, this new issue is different. It’s about publishing the historical locations of areas whose populations are still subject to discrimination, including discrimination due to where they live and/or were born. The Buraku Liberation League need no urging to jump onto this kind of issue. They actively seek out anything that can be construed as discrimination, as you might imagine, and are persistent in stamping it out. Google has already censored the maps, removing the references to Etamura (Filth Villages).

The situation raises a major issue: is Google wrong to publish historical maps in their entirety? Should it be censoring historical documents? Many of the locations of Buraku are widely known in their locales, and such historical maps are clearly accessible to employers who still discriminate against Burakumin. Google made the information easily accessible, just like so much of the internet.

Is fostering ignorance the best solution to the Burakumin discrimination problem? I’m no so certain. Ignorance would certainly work to stop pervasive discrimination, but the information still exists in oral history, archives, and employment agencies. By hiding their history, the Burakumin can never make the rest of the country come to terms with it. They are hobbling their own efforts while neglecting the long-term battle that still awaits.

Meanwhile, it is rather telling that this is being picked up by the foreign press while the Japanese press seemingly remains silent. A Google search revealed no articles covering this in the Japanese press, although perhaps it was picked up earlier on (foreign reporting of Japanese news is usually a month or so behind!).  The closest I could find is this article quoting the American Yahoo! News. If this is truly the case, then it acts as a reminder of just how much the BLL has to fight for.

Hokkaido: Day Six – Abashiri

There were two places I really wanted to visit in Hokkaido. The first was Asahiyama Zoo, which I visited on Day Four. The second, and top of my list, was Abashiri, home of the notorious Abashiri Prison. Keiko was set to arrive on the 30th, and so, as it is close to Memanbetsu Airport, her mum and I headed to Abashiri.

Abashiri is about 1.5 – 2 hours drive from Ikutahara, including a significant detour for me to look at Lake Saroma. The lake is famous for its 100km ultra marathon, something Keiko once did some interpreting work for, and that to me sounds like a ridiculous idea! That’s over 2 marathons! Crazy. A little further along was Lake Notori, and then Lake Abashiri, both of which had people ice-fishing (a New Year’s tradition). I imagine the place is beautiful in summer, but I can’t fathom quite how it’d appear given the heavy snow while I was there.

Anyway, back to the prison. Abashiri Prison is Japan’s Alcatraz, an inescapable maximum-security hell-hole stretching back over century. If you have seen Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country and can remember the Klingon prison moon Rura Penthe, you can imagine what it might have been like being incarcerated there back before it was modernised. The prison was home to many yakuza, and, in the yakuza genre of Japanese cinema, has been the subject of numerous films. The prison has since been modernised into a more cosy location for criminals to do time, the harsh conditions have been recreated or moved up a hillside just outside the town to the Abashiri Prison Museum.

Lots more photos after the cut…

Historical Revisionism and Mainstream Japan

Japan has recently been stirred by the sacking of Air Self-Defence Force Chief of Staff General Toshio Tamogami for authoring an essay that asks: “Was Japan an Aggressor Nation?” [in the Pacific War]. As the old newspaper trick goes, Tamogami concluded ‘no’ and has been censored for standing by that believe. Roy Berman [at Mutantfrog Travelogue] has already covered the peculiarities of the issue extensively; see ‘Gen. Tamogami Toshio, Motoya Toshio, and Abe Shinzo,’ ‘Tamogami Update,’ and ‘Still more on Tamogami‘.

Toshio Tamogami

However, you needn’t worry about Japanese ‘militarism’ because Tamogami says “his justification of Japan’s wartime acts is shared by many lawmakers and Self-Defense Forces personnel.” [The Japan Times, 2008/12/02] “I don’t think my opinions are particularly militaristic or of a rightwing nature,” he told the Foreign Correspondents’ Club of Japan, as reported in the Japan Times, “adding [that] many of his supporters are merely keeping their views to themselves.”

The whole problem with Tamogami is that he fails to see that he has done anything wrong. As a leading figure in the Self-Defence Forces, he wrote an essay that essentially absolves the Japanese guilt for its imperialism and subsequent expansion. He has been politicising the SDF, encouraging other officers to write such poorly sourced drivel, as seen in the kinds of officers that followed his example (see ‘Tamogami Update‘).

His words were in direct contravention of the Murayama Statement, thus whether he meant to submit the essay as a private citizen or not, he showed Japan’s neighbours that some high-ranking segments of Japan could still legitimately question the issue of Japan’s role in instigating the Pacific War.

Tamogami likely got the top position by pulling on the strings of his jin-myaku, the networking between people that keeps Japan running (as argued by Van Wolferen in The Enigma of Japanese Power). His fall from grace and the subsequent tumbling of skeletons out of his cupboard has shown that he has long kept his beliefs public and that he has many friends in high places, seemingly former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe was one of them. Of course his opinions are shared in government and bureaucracy, and of course these figures (largely) keep them private… that is because they are not entirely foolish, which is more than I can say for Tamogami.

Kamakura – Kyoto’s More Compact Cousin

Sunday proved to be the highlight of my 4 month stay in Japan. Travelling on the Odakyu line towards Fujisawa on our way to meet Chikara in Kamakura, the buildings beside the train began to subside and out in the distance I could see a snow-capped Mount Fuji dressed in blue and white. I was excited to see this classic sight believing as I had that seeing Mount Fuji would finally allow me to say that I had truly seen Japan. The right mix of atmospheric conditions and weather had made it possible for me, and the others passengers too (although it is bewildering to me that none of them seemed to take any interest at all).

Sadly, as we got closer to hilly Kamakura, I lost sight of Japan’s giant pimple, its Olympus Mons, but I soon found many other things to catch my eye. Kamakura was the home of Japan’s military government in the 12-14th Centuries, the so-called Kamakura Period. It was home to Minamoto no Yoshitsune, Japan’s legendary warrior, and to the Japanese Zen Buddhist sects.

Lots of photos after the cut.