Lessons From Another World: Three Timeless Folktales From Japan

Life's a mukashi banashi! Illustration by Benjamin Warren.

Whether it’s a turtle ride to an underwater palace, bamboo-born princesses, or a thumb-sized samurai besting beasts, Japanese folklore conjures worlds unlike any other where truly anything is possible.

In his fourth volume of Japanese Fairy Tales, Professor Keisuke Nishimoto of Showa Woman's College of Tokyo writes, "[these tales] are more than just entertaining; they also address some of life's enduring themes: how to live a good, kind life; how to achieve happiness; and the price to be paid for cruelty, greediness, and cowardice."

Today Japan Society marked Kodomo no hi, Japan's annual festival to celebrate children's happiness and wellbeing with its first-ever Folklore Family Day, transforming three floors of its landmark building into immersive worlds of Japan's most enchanting and enriching mukashi banashi (folktales).

“We want to share the mystery of stories from a different culture,” Jeffrey Miller, director of Japan Society's Education and Family Program told The New York Times, adding that children would see that “the humanity in these stories is common to all cultures.”

Japan Society brought to life several folktales, including stories familiar throughout the world such Momotaro (Peach Boy) and Kintaro (Golden Boy). Other featured stories just as beloved and time-honored in Japan, but perhaps less well known outside the country were Urashima Taro, Kaguya-hime (Bamboo Princess) and Issun-bōshi (One-Inch Boy).

Fathoming A Treasure More Valuable Than Time

One day the son of a modest fisherman, Urashima Taro (1) comes across a group of mischievous boys taunting and torturing a tortoise. Thinking quickly, Urashima offers to buy it from them, then releases it back to the sea as soon as they have gone. The following day while out fishing on his boat, Urashima is greeted by the tortoise, who expresses its gratitude with a trip to the Dragon King’s Palace at the bottom of the sea. Once they arrive, the tortoise transforms into a beautiful princess and asks Urashima to marry her, which he accepts.

A few short days later, Urashima begins to miss his family, whom he had nearly forgotten during the adventure, and asks the princess to let him go see them. She obliges, giving him a precious keepsake: a box which he must promise never to open. He agrees, returning to the surface, where he finds that more than 300 years have passed. Realizing that he’s outlived all of his friends and family, he opens the box in his grief, releasing a small cloud of smoke. He starts to feel weak, with his hair turning grey and his face wrinkling up, as the box had contained his old age.

(Searching for the many meanings hidden in this tale, it's important to understand the rich history of Japan's fishing culture. Up until just one hundred years ago, one out of every twenty Japanese were fishermen.)

Lunacy In Not Letting Go

Discovered in a bamboo stalk by a childless elderly couple, Kaguya-hime, the Bamboo Princess (2) wishes for nothing more than to spend the rest of her time on Earth with her parents. She grows up to be one of the most beloved women in the land, but with no desire to marry, she sends every suitor off to complete impossibly difficult tasks before they can win her hand in marriage. Several men set out on their journeys, with some attempting to deceive the princess, and others simply realizing the futility of their efforts. None complete their tasks (and not all of them make it back alive).

Though the princess manages to avoid marriage, she realizes she won't be able to stay with her parents forever. She tells them she must go back to the moon, her true home. Her parents are devastated, and eventually word reaches the Emperor, who sends his troops to prevent the princess from returning to the moon, to no avail.

Kaguya-hime puts on a special robe that erases her memories as she walks to the carriage sent to take her to the moon. Before she leaves, she hands the Emperor’s servant a letter and a portion of the elixir of eternal life that she herself has imbibed. Upon reading the letter, which proclaims the Princess’s desire to marry the Emperor if only it were possible, the Emperor, still in love with her, orders his servant to climb the highest mountain in all of Japan, then burn the potion and the letter at its peak, so that the smoke carries his sorrows to the heavens. That mountain eventually became known as Mt. Fuji, and on days when smoke rises up from the mountain, it is believed the letter and potion continues to burn its message for the princess.

(Another story deeply intertwined with meaning, especially when you consider the history of marriage in Japan.)

Big Benefits For The Steadfast Brave

Another elderly couple have been praying at a local shrine every day for a child, when Issun-bōshi, or One-Inch Boy (3) arrives. No bigger than a man’s thumb, he is nevertheless determined to become a samurai. When he comes of age, he asks his parents for a needle to use as a sword, a straw for a sheath, a rice bowl for a boat, and a chopstick for an oar, and sets off for adventure. Riding his bowl down the river and fending off a hungry fish with his chopstick-oar, he eventually makes it to the city and starts working for a wealthy man, whose daughter he quickly befriends. One day, while the two are playing outside, they are approached by a group of ogres who intend to kidnap the girl, who was actually a princess.

One-Inch Boy resists and one of the ogres swallows him whole. He responds by poking the ogre’s stomach full of holes with his sword. In incredible pain, the ogre spits out One-Inch-Boy and flees, dropping his magic mallet in the process. The princess picks it up, chants, “Grow, One-Inch Boy, grow!” Soon enough, One-Inch Boy quickly outgrows his name, rivaling the princess in height. The story ends with him marrying the princess and becoming a samurai as he had always dreamed.

Enduring Lessons From The Monstrous Mystery

In their delightful (and deceptive) simplicity, folktales, fables and myth are ancient tools to help us cope with life's difficult twists and turns. On the surface, Urashima Taro shows us there are rewards for doing right; but dive deeper into the story and we find that the act of doing right is its own reward: peril awaits those who are distracted by meaningless treasure. Kaguya-hime teaches the importance of loving and appreciating your family, and the difficulty and inevitability of having to let go (imagine a grief so profound it causes Mt. Fuji to bellow!) Sharing many similarities with Tom Thumb from English folklore, Issun-bōshi stresses the importance of inner strength and self-sufficiency, regardless of how immense the challenges one may face.

"The great ideas of courage, duty, beauty, desire, cause, man and animals are themes throughout western literature and many also appear in Japanese children's stories," notes Miller.

According to maverick mythologist Joseph Campbell, there are four purposes to myth (4): to inspire awe of the "monstrous mystery" of existence; to present the inner and outer cosmos in a way that simultaneously dazzles and describes the universe; to advance a society (or community or family) through a shared understanding of right and wrong; and to "carry the individual through the stages of his life, from birth through maturity through senility to death… in accords with the social order of his group, the cosmos as understood by his group, and the monstrous mystery."

Through its Folklore Family Day, Miller says, "Japan Society's Education and Family programs share the great wealth that comes from considering tales that cause children and adults to be in awe and wonder. The imagination of a child is not a small thing and we desire to share stories that excite."

Miller points to a quote from Anthony Esolen's Ten Ways to Destroy Your Child’s Imagination: "Fairy tales and folk tales are for children and childlike people, not because they are little and inconsequential, but because they are as enormous as life itself.”

--Stories adapted by Mark Gallucci

1. Adapted from "The Story of Urashima Taro, the Fisher Lad", Japanese Fairy Tales, Yei Theodora Ozaki.

2. Adapted from "The Moon Princess", as told by Tetsuo Kawamoto, translated by Clarence Calkins. (Read the full pdf.)

3. "One Inch Boy", Old Stories from Japan, Masahiro Kudo. (Read another version here.)

4. Pathways to Bliss: Mythology and Personal Transformation, Joseph Campbell.

Memories of Oshogatsu, Japan's New Year's Family Celebration

It’s December 31, and the house is spotless, the food has been prepared, and the celebration is about to begin. Tomorrow is New Year’s Day in America, but in Japan, it’s the beginning of Oshogatsu, Japan’s New Year’s equivalent.

"In the U.S., New Year's is just a single day, but the Japanese New Year’s is celebrated for an extended period of time, usually about three days." says Kazuko Minamoto, Deputy Director of education and family programming at Japan Society. "Most businesses in Japan are even closed for the first three days in January in observance of Oshogatsu"

Oshogatsu focuses on starting from a clean slate, so before the new year begins, everyone makes sure all business and housework from the previous year is completed. More like Christmas in America, Oshogatsu is typically spent with family, who often gather at grandparents’ houses for several nights. Great meals are prepared with each item of food symbolizing something.

"As a child, I enjoyed traditional New Year’s food – ozoni (rice cake in soup) and osechi (various special foods we only eat during Oshogatsu)," says Education Program Officer Yumi Nagasawa. "These days my family eats toshikoshi soba noodle, a meal that represents a wish for a long life."

Even the colors of the food's ingredients are taken into account. Lucky colors such as red and white are prominently featured in Oshogatsu dishes, also known as osechi ryori. The cooking takes days of exhausting work to prepare, so it’s not uncommon for modern Japanese people to buy the food pre-made from a high-end kaiseki restaurant.

Education Program Associate Owen Rojek took part in the full celebration for himself recently. "I spent the last two New Year's in Oita, a rural prefecture on the island of Kyushu, with my friend’s family, and it was a great and touching experience. Her immediate and extended family all gathered at her grandfather’s house and it felt like I was attending a large family reunion. Grandparents held great-grandchildren on their knees, siblings reminisced about their childhood, and everyone enjoyed beautifully prepared osechi ryori and copious amounts of alcohol."

While the adults of the house are busy cooking and cleaning, the children are free to play with their cousins that they may not get to see very often. They also receive otoshidama, money from parents and relatives enclosed in a small envelope.

"As a child, of course, my favorite memory is of otoshidama," says Yumi. "Part of the fun was to visit all my relatives, but it was also exciting to find out how much money I received. I learned how to use or save it wisely."

Learning the value of money is a very important part of receiving otoshidama, notes Kazuko. "I was able to save enough otoshidama that I received from my parents and relatives over many years to buy an audio stereo set when I was a teenager. It gave me a sense of accomplishment and taught me the importance of saving money (and patience that goes with it) when I was a kid."

As for the moment the clock strikes twelve, it’s a bit less climactic than it is in America. Rather than meeting up at, say, Times Square to watch the ball drop, families will head to nearby shrines to pray for success in the new year.

"As the end of the year drew closer, there was no big countdown like in the U.S.," says Owen, "but we all put on our coats and shoes and went to three local shrines to celebrate the New Year in an activity known as sansyamairi. We prayed for a good year and bought slips of paper with our fortunes for the New Year. This last time, I got daikiti, which means 'best luck' and is the best fortune you can get. After returning home, we went to sleep because we would be going to see the first sunrise of the year, another New Year’s tradition in Japan. After watching the sunrise from a nearby mountain, we returned home and ate ozoni, the traditional New Year’s day soup containing rice cakes and vegetables. Dinner was leftover osechi ryori, which was still delicious."

"We enjoyed hearing the sounds of year-end bell, Joya no kane – 108 times, says Yumi. "This is to cleanse the 108 kinds of human egos before welcoming a new year. My family lived close to a famous shrine, and we often went to give prayer on the first day (or very early morning around Midnight) to start the New Year with a good wish and a good new year’s resolution.

Kazuko adds, "On New Year’s Eve, I usually enjoy watching with family members the popular NHK’s Kohaku-uta-gassen, known in English as 'Red & White Year-end Song Festival,' a music program running since 1951 that features hit songs of the year."

Many Oshogatsu traditions have endured through the ages, and several are on display for children to discover and participate in at Japan Society’s annual Oshogatsu Family Festival this Sunday.

Guests can watch taiko drumming, lion dancing, pound their own mochi, write calligraphy, and participate in other fun events.

Having been a part of Japan Society's Oshogatsu event since its inception, Kazuko shared an element of volunteerism that few people may realize occurs:

"One of the most memorable and consistent scenes I have witnessed since we started Oshogatsu is how over fifty high-school student volunteers, including Japanese teens from Keio Academy and American teens from one-to-two local high schools who study the Japanese, work closely together to help children at the game and activity booths. Those students were hardworking, diligent, kind, and thoughtful to our younger guests and our presenters and performers. Keio Academy students looked very proud of their country’s tradition while American students truly enjoyed the festival atmosphere they couldn’t normally experience in their classroom setting. We are grateful for their assistance."

It’s an atmosphere unique to Japan, which makes the event such a unique opportunity for those who wouldn’t otherwise be able to experience it.

"I am still fairly new to Oshogatsu at Japan Society, having only experienced it last year," says Yumi, "but it is a wonderful opportunity especially for young children to experience a Japanese custom and tradition in a fun way. Traditions are acquired through experience, so Oshogatsu is a chance to experience and learn about Japan without being in Japan, and for family to create and share memories."

--Mark Gallucci

Photo by George Hirose.

Japan's Monsters Inc.: Getting To Know Obake, Yokai & Yurei

Just a few of Japan's inimitable collection of supernatural creatures Illustration by Ben Warren.

Compare America's werewolves, vampires, ghosts, witches, and zombies to Japan’s abundance of supernatural creatures, and it’s hard to believe Japan didn't invent Halloween—a holiday that has only arrived recently as a pop-culture import popularized by theme parks such as Tokyo Disneyland and Universal Studios Japan.

But Japan’s bestiary of mythical creatures was around long before Halloween. Tales of hundreds of mythical beings with few or no Western parallels are divided into whole subcategories that aren't always clear even to native Japanese.

Today the Japanese term often used to describe creatures seen during Halloween is obake—inhuman beings that have undergone a transformation. People, animals, even inanimate objects such as neglected or abandoned containers can become obake (this type of obake is known as a tsukumogami and appears often in Japanese folklore). They are typically not very dangerous creatures, tending to prefer mischief over malice (though this is not always the case).

The karakasa-kozo is a perfect example. Typically abandoned by its former owner, this paper umbrella has developed a single eye, two arms, a leg (in place of its handle), and a long tongue which it uses to lick people. A harmless obake, it enjoys scaring its victims by popping out of umbrella racks.  

Another category of Japanese creature seen during Halloween is yokai. These mysteriously gifted beings are beyond human comprehension and often possess supernatural powers. They tend to be more malicious than their obake counterparts.

Kappa, mischievous humanoid sea creatures with green, scaly skin, are one of the most famous yokai. They can be hostile towards people, and can enjoy eating human children. They are one of the few yokai able to speak a human language, and are known for their extreme sense of honor. Should a person chance upon one, it is recommended to bow deeply, as the kappa will likely return the bow, spilling the water in the plate on its head and losing its source of power.

Via.

The last major category is yurei. These once-human apparitions are bound to the physical world by strong feelings such as a grudge or a romance. The only ways to dispel yurei are to fulfill its wishes or for priests to perform the proper rites to send it to the afterlife.

The onryo is an intensely vengeful class of yurei bound to Earth, seeking retribution for a past injustice. The most famous example is Oiwa from the ghost story Yotsuya Kaidan. Oiwa is disfigured by a poison disguised as facial cream sent from an admirer of her husband. Disgusted with Oiwa’s ghastly appearance, the husband orders his servant to rape her, so so he will have grounds for divorce. The servant cannot bring himself to do so, and instead shows Oiwa her reflection in a mirror. Horrified, she breaks down, takes up a sword, and in her rush to the door, accidentally stabs herself in the throat. She uses her last words to curse her husband, binding her soul to the physical realm, where she relentlessly torments him until his death.

The story, originally a kabuki play, has received numerous film adaptations, and has had a major influence on modern Japanese horror. Oiwa, for instance, is very similar to Sadako from The Ring.

Via.

Unlike obake, yurei and yokai don't always make the transition to Halloween in Japan. These vengeful spirits and demons give way to the ghosts, vampire bats and haunted pumpkins of America's Halloween. In fact, the term obake has lost much of its original meaning, and now commonly refers to standard American ghouls.

But many of these mythical creatures live on in popular culture through anime and manga. The series GeGeGe no Kitaro and InuYasha feature notable modern incarnations. Kitaro and his friends are protected by a character called Nurikabe, based on the yokai of the same name, which manifests itself as a giant wall, extending infinitely in all directions until it is poked near the ground with a stick. InuYasha's Kirara is a nekomata, a cat with two tails fabled for its great power, and the character Shippo, is a classic kitsune (fox demon), able to shapeshift and perform magic.

Today's revival of classic Japanese creatures doesn't compare to their heyday in the Edo period. This decline in popularity—the folklore began to be dismissed as embarrassing fairytales when Japan began to modernize in the 19th century—has led there to be little knowledge of these creatures outside Japan, with few opportunities for foreigners to discover them.

One such opportunity is today's Obake Family Day at Japan Society. Children of all ages learn more about yokai and obake firsthand, by creating their own while learning a bit of Japanese, make masks, use traditional Japanese calligraphy to illustrate their spirit creatures, and even take pictures with their favorite obake. The stories behind the beasts will be told through traditional kamishibai (paper-theater) storytelling.

While the legends of yokai and obake (and even yurei) continue to haunt Japanese ghost stories to this day, America has remained mostly unaware of their existence. Still, there’s something here worth exploring, and it’s about time Japan’s rich, haunted history made it across the ocean.

After all, we've been in the dark for far too long.

--Mark Gallucci 

Children can make an Obake Buddy at Obake Family Day. Photo by Aya Wilson.

[UPDATED 11/3/14]

Taiko Drumming: The Whole Body Pulse of Japan's Resounding 'Heartbeat'

Does Kodo have a workout video? Image via.

Learning an instrument is a physical challenge as much as a musical one, from proper finger placement on guitar, to shoulder and back strength for cello, to mastering a variety of breathing techniques needed to sound any wind instrument. After thousands of hours of rigorous practice, the sole motivator for taking on such an arduous task may be the rewarding feeling when a song finally plays to perfection.

But motivators can also be mental health, a means of meditation or a whole body workout. All three are possible with taiko, the word for Japanese drums and traditional Japanese drumming, often considered the resounding 'heartbeat' of Japanese culture.

The popularity of taiko can be seen in its many benefits. Some choose to play taiko because of their love of music or their interest in Japanese culture. The meditative aspect stems from the instruments' roots in religion, specifically Buddhism. In terms of full body workout, the physical stamina required increases depending on the size of the drums and weight of the drumsticks, as well as the degree of strength and control needed to create different sounds. This does not necessarily mean taiko players must be physically fit to learn to play (though they probably will be after a few years of playing regularly). Anyone can learn from small children to the elderly, and benefits abound for people with disabilities (taiko has been used as therapy for people with Downs Syndrome and autism, and deaf people can play by feeling the vibrations made by other players).

Originally, taiko was not the big production that it is today. According to Japanzine, a national magazine about Japan, the clay figure of a man beating a drum dated around the 6th or 7th centuries is the earliest evidence of taiko in Japan. Further evidence supports that it was originally used on the battlefield as a way to intimidate the enemy.

Over the centuries, taiko was incorporated into daily village life as a timekeeper, into imperial court music, into religious activities as the powerful sounds became associated with the gods, and  has become the centerpiece of many matsuri (Japanese festivals). It was not until post-war Jazz musician Daihachi Oguchi created the first ensemble format of taiko with multiple drums and rhythms that taiko developed into the arrangements seen today.

Kenny Endo Taiko Ensemble performs in 2012. 

Taiko has spread across the globe with world renowned professional groups like Tao and Kodo, purveyors such as Kenny Endo and hundreds of esteemed amateur ensembles. Among several in New York are the New York Suwa Taiko Association, which has performed at several Japan Society events; the New York Taiko Aiko Kai, a resident group of the TC Taiko Society at Columbia University's Teachers College; and Brooklyn's only taiko group Taiko Masala, which will head up the taiko portion of Japan Society's 2014 summer high school workshop, From Taiko Drumming to J-Pop Music & Dance.

Everywhere people are inspired to play taiko with its unforgettable sound and enriching benefits. As much as an opportunity to learn an instrument, taiko is a way to experience and contribute to the heartbeat of Japan.

As the old kakegoe goes, SO-RE!

--Ana Belen Gomez Flor

The New York Suwa Taiko Association launched Japan Society's all day j-CATION festival in 2012. Photo by George Hirose.

Japanese Language in Action: Summer Theater Workshop For High Schoolers

SPAC's Medea, performed at Japan Society in 2011. Photo by Takuma Uchida.

When we think theater we think of bright costumes and big sets, flashy musical numbers, tear-jerking soliloquys, black box realness or broad, bawdy comedy. On Broadway alone right now, it's spider men spinning impossible spectacle, invisible family-binding bunnies, all that jazz, music of the night and much more. But when you get down to it, theater is fundamentally story, which can be told through many different languages: movement, character, plot, design. And sometimes, in the best theater, the story unfolds simply in language itself (think Shakespeare).

This year’s Japan Society summer high school workshop teaches the most fundamental tool for storytelling, language (specifically Japanese) through theater and performance techniques. Although participants may be of any proficiency level, the program is recommended for beginner to intermediate level speakers.

Led by Mami Fujisaki, a high school Japanese teacher at Horace Mann School and a recipient of the Bellet Award for Teaching Excellence (2004), participants split their days between basic Japanese courses and purely theatrical workshops. In the morning Fujisaki teaches students dialogue and conversational skills. In the afternoon, guest instructors present an array of mini-workshops focusing on storytelling through acting, movement, and even traditional non-theater techniques and pop music, among other topics. Guest instructors include Jun Kim, Sonoko Kawahara and Kanako Hiyama, who participate as actors, directors or dancers in New York Japan-based theatre troupes; Alex York, a veteran Japan Society language student and New York based Japanese pop-rock singer; and Tara McGowan, a traditional storyteller and practitioner of kamishibai (storytelling through illustrated picture cards).

Over the course of the workshop, students learn two plays--Issun Boushi and John Manjiro--which they perform on the final day of the workshop, August 18. Though they will have a hand in creating costumes, set, and lighting, their primary focus will be bringing characters to life and understanding them from the mind of the author as well as the actor. Having polished performance skills, learned basic Japanese, and mastered lines and delivery, they will demonstrate a deeper understanding of the language, and ultimately connecting to people through storytelling.

--Sarah Anderson

Each summer Japan Society’s Education Program offers workshops for high school students aiming to help them connect with a particular facet of Japanese culture. In previous years, students have discovered tops topics such as anime, fashion and cooking. For more information on the Society’s education programming, visit http://www.japansociety.org/page/programs/education_family.

Tanabata Tutorial: 7 Ways To Wish Upon A Star

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7 types of Star Festival Decorations. Via.

According to an ancient legend, wishes come true during Tanabata, Japan's summer "Star Festival", which occurs every year on the seventh day of the seventh month (those following the lunar calendar observe in August, but people in the U.S. celebrate in July.) On that day, festival-goers write their wishes on a colorful piece of paper called tanzaku and tie it to a branch of a bamboo tree.

Although the legend varies slightly from region to region, it is celebrated all over Japan (and at Japan Society this Sunday!) The story goes that Hikoboshi, the star of Altair, and Orihime, the star of Vega, are two lovers separated by the Milky Way. Orihime was a skilled weaver, but because she spent most of her time weaving, she had no time to love. Her father, Emperor Tentei, saw how sad she was about this and arranged a marriage for her with Hikoboshi. But now Orihime had no time to weave because of her newfound love, so Tentei forbid the two from seeing each other, except for one day a year as long as they wished hard enough every other day. Tanabata celebrates the lovers’ reuniting.

Seven is the magic number for Tanabata, so there are seven types of decorations with special significance:

Tanzaku - wishes for academic success and technical skills.

Kinchaku - shaped like a purse, this decoration is a wish for success with money.

Kamigoromo - shaped like a tiny Kimono, this is for better sewing skills, success with style.

Toami - the net papers, these represent success for good fishing and harvest.

Orizuru - a chain of paper cranes, if you hang these you wish for good health and a long life.

Kuzukago - the trash net, this indicates wishes for cleanliness and thriftiness with money.

Fukinagashi - these aren’t really wishes, they are colorful streamers that represent the fabric Orihime wove.

Click here for a cute manga explaining the decorations and the legend. Our own About Japan teaching rwesource ebsite has some simple Tanabata activity and craft-making guides you can do at home or at school.

Japan Society's Tanabata observance includes interactive, family-friendly activities and an opportunity to hang your own tanzaku on Japan Society's bamboo trees. The event is recommended for children 3-10 and their accompanying adults, but couldn’t we all use a wish or two? Happy Tanabata!

--Sarah Anderson

(UPDATED 7/14/13)

Resilience In The Lost Decade: Recovery In Tohoku

From Memory: Things We Should Never Forget. Photo courtesy of Nikkei Inc.

When Japan Society education director Rob Fish was putting together events in recognition of the one-year anniversary of the Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami, one moment stood out for him. During school visits in the Tohoku region in summer 2011, surveying the devastation after months of recovery efforts, principal Sadayoshi Sugiwara from Shizugawa Junior High School told Fish how happy he was to have received so much support from the U.S. and people around the world, but how concerned he was that after a year’s time people would forget.

It's an alarming prospect. In a recent interview about Japan Society's relief work, president Motoatsu Sakurai told Reuters he believes economic recovery and rebuilding “will continue for more than 10 years”, with ongoing work to repair damage, remove mountains of remaining debris, begin rebuilding, and cope with nuclear contamination.

A decade of recovery after Japan’s “lost decade” isn't an exaggeration at this point. Despite incredible efforts to clean up the large amount of debris left by the tsunami, the hard-hit city of Ishinomaki is home to the biggest dumping grounds, further exacerbated by other cities rescinding their offers to take  some of the waste due to fear of contamination. Japan’s Environment Ministry, recently reported that of the “estimated 22.5 million tons of debris in Iwate, Miyagi and Fukushima prefectures… only 1.42 million tons have been disposed of” to date.

The affected areas have seen a rapid decrease in volunteer workers from the peak of 171,800 individuals two months after the disasters to about 11,000 volunteers as of January 2012. Meanwhile, professors and experts from Cornell University cite “serious political problems” that may prevent a speedy recovery.

The nuclear meltdown in Fukushima has been a constant source of danger for the local population. Despite all attempts to secure the area and remove as much radiation as possible, including collecting every leaf, the Daiichi plant reactors have “readings peaking at 1.500 microsieverts per hour – more than a thousand times what was normal pre-accident” making repairs difficult. The latest estimates have soil radiation levels far below those of Chernobyl during the same time frame, though Fukushima and its surrounding prefectures will be irradiated for years to come.

The situation has become problematic for displaced citizens. In the little time given former residents of Okuma, for example, many people were barely able to recover belongings, let alone clean any family graves that survived the disasters.

Despite all of this, there is visible progress happening all around the affected areas showing signs of renewed life and resilience from the local population. International concern for Japan was reflected by an outpouring of mainstream media coverage that began weeks before the tragedies’ anniversary. Wall Street Journal's RealTimeJapan blog ran an all encompassing "March 11, One Year Later" series. NY1’s Dean Meminger reported from Kamaishi city for a week-long special report focusing on the affected people of Tohoku. MSNBC carried a photo series with a remarkable then-and-now panoramic photo as well as poignant portraits of survivors. Photographer Denis Rouvre’s survivor portraits in The New York Times questioned whether the disaster can be summed up as shikata ga nai, or “it can’t be helped,” as similar situations have been received in Japan.

Inspiring anecdotes of survivors, young and old, included a man who refuses to leave the no-go zone in order to take care of abandoned animals, and student Yuji Hamada, who turned 15 on the 11th, recalling the loss of his mother and sister on the day of the disasters, and who strives to live life to the fullest.

Working collectively to overcome hardships continues in Minami-sanriku, where oyster farmers feel the “local industry could be back on its feet and thriving as soon as three years from now” and a high school baseball team plays hard towards the national tournament in the name of Ishinomaki.

--Sean Tomizawa

Cucumbrage: A Japanese Folktale Halloween Encore

What's that smell? Via.

It’s Halloween time and Japan Society once again has something spooktacular in store: Meet Japan’s Mystical Folktale Creatures& Ghosts through Theater Performance is back Sunday to treat families to all the creatures and ghosts unique to Japanese culture. Among many activities, kids can put on their best oni face with mask-making, or take the guise of other yokai as they enjoy the song and dance of an original play by Kanako Hiyama created just for the special day.

In the tradition of storytelling before the event (remember the zashiki warashi and bakeneko?), here’s a little introduction to a certain water-dwelling monstrosity…

One summer vacation, instead of hanging with his friends back in the city, a young boy is dragged by his parents to his grandparents’ home in the middle of nowhere.

The boy decides to walk through the nearby woods for a little adventure following a spat with his parents. Venturing deep into thick rows of old, gnarled trees and deepening piles of fallen leaves, the boy finds little amusement until he comes across a wooden signed nailed to one of the trees.

“ALWAYS BE POLITE.”

A strange sign to have in the middle of the woods, he thinks, then is distracted by a river peeking through a clearing in front of him.

He rushes over, marveling at the wide expanse of water. He delights in its shore, throwing rocks in the reiver every so often, until he trips over a basket of cucumbers. Without a thought--they look so very delicious--and having left the house with no lunch, the boy picks one out and digs in.

As soon as he bites into the cold, fresh cucumber goodness, the river bubbles and a slimy green arm with a thin webbed hand reaches out for the boy’s feet. He slowly backs away gripped by fear as a short creature with a beaked face, giant turtle shell on its back, and a disgusting stench emerges from the water, approaching with menace. The boy drops the cucumber and without thinking starts bowing deeply while profusely apologies. He looks up to see the creature stopped dead in its track. With vague look of comprehension on its unnatural face, the creature bends in a slow, low bow. Just as its beak touches the ground, water pours from a shallow hole in its its head. Realizing what has happened it falls to the ground in panic and weakly stares at the boy, who takes the opportunity to escape back home to the arms of his worried parents.

That day, the kappa has shown the boy that a little bit of politeness (and luck) goes a long way.

--Sean Tomizawa

Generation Mobile: Kids Change The World One Cellphone At A Time

"Games should be played only in game arcades." Via.

Something that never ceases to amaze me is how far ahead Japan is in the cellphone industry. Japanese cellphones, or keitai denwa, had the ability to scan QR codes years before any other country had access to the technology, receive and send emails with unique addresses that have practically no character limit, and even watch local television shows with decent quality.

Their uniqueness even inspired the christening of a sociological phenomenon: Japan’s Galapagos Syndrome, "a phrase originally coined to describe Japanese cell phones that were so advanced they had little in common with devices used in the rest of the world”. The U.S. has played catch-up in the last decade with the advent of the smartphones like the iPhone and Droid series, both of which have gained popularity in Japan.

While the proliferation of cellphone culture seems to know no age boundaries, young people especially make up a large portion of mobile media culture in both Japan and the U.S. Some fear kids are becoming consumed by their handhelds and more and more prone to distraction. In Japan, where cellphones are practically given away as very fancy toys to those as young as middle school age, there is concern about children’s susceptibility to cyber-bullying and, worse, internet crimes. It is no wonder these devices are shunned and disallowed in the classroom.

But as technology becomes increasingly more handheld and integral to social engagement, what does the future have in store for educators, their students, and generations of youth?

Tonight’s panel Keitai Kids: Youth, Culture and Social Media in the USA and Japan looks at how mobile social media can be used to better education. The discussion features Tomi Ahonen, former executive for Nokia and a leading consultant on the mobile market, and the University of Tokyo media studies profoessor, Shin Mizukoshi, a proponent of cellphones in education, whose focus is anthropological as opposed to the more common technological stance. Trebor R. Scholz, the summit chair of the Politics of New School's Digital Culture Conference moderates.

The panels is part of The New School's MobilityShifts: An International Future of Learning Summit, a week-long conference bringing together great minds from different backgrounds to showcase how mobile media can be used to effectively teach and learn from outside the classroom.

The event is also a precursor of Japan Society Education Program’s new Going Global initiative, which will connect thousands of school children from Japan, America, and Pakistan through social networking activities and share ideas with each other to work towards a better world.

--Sean Tomizawa

CelebrASIA: 3 Months of New Year’s Festivities For Families

My oh shishi-mai! Photo by George Hirose.

A lively lion dance performance in China, families in Japan making trips to Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples, families in Central Asia clamoring pots and pans to drive away evil spirits of the past year, or Persian families creating beautiful altars honoring their ancestors—all provide a glimpse into the rich and festive sights and sounds of New Year’s celebrations in Asia. As countdowns, champagne and cheers reverberate throughout the Western World, many cultures in Asia welcome the New Year calling it by diverse names such as Norouz (Persia), Oshogatsu (Japan), Losar (Himalaya), and Sollal (Korea) with unique and sometimes intriguingly interrelated practices.

This year Asia Society, China Institute, Japan Society, Korea Society and Rubin Museum have come together to bring the joys of celebrating New Year’s across Asia. In the first of hopefully a regular series, CelebrASIA NYC: New Year’s Festivities for Families encompasses six pan Asian events at five esteemed New York City cultural centers.

On Sunday, January 16, Japan Society’s Japan’s New Year’s Day Celebration: Oshogatsu kicks off the series with fun-filled traditional Japanese New Year’s activities, including mochi-tsuki  (rice pounding), shishi-mai (lion dancing accompanied by live taiko drumming), gogaku court music, kakizome (special New Year’s calligraphy), kite-making, fukuwarai (funny-face game), karuta (card matching game) and kamishibai story telling. Children of all ages are invited to participate and activites fill every nook and cranny of the Society's landmark building.

The series continues with Family Day: Korean New Year, Saturday, January 22; Moon over Manhattan, Saturday, January 29; Chinese New Year's Day, Sunday, February 6; Family Day: Himalayan New Year Celebration, Saturday, March 5; and Spring into Norouz, March 12. Full details at http://www.celebrasia.org/.

Japan Society's Oshogatsu fest takes place in two sessions at 2pm and 3pm. Tickets are $5 for members, $12 for nonmembers, and free for children under ages 2 or under. More at http://www.japansociety.org.

A.T.

Kids: Sumi For A Sunny Sunday

Beware the sumi-e dragons! Via.

There is an ancient story that a monk was working on a sumi-e painting of dragons. When he finished his painting, he went to the head monk to seek his approval. The head monk was very pleased with the young artist’s work but asked why there were no pupils in the dragons' eyes. The young artist shyly looked down and expressed that if he added pupils he feared the dragons would come alive. The head monk scoffed and asked him to put pupils in the dragons' eyes to prove he was wrong. The young monk walked over, lightly dipped his brush in the ink and placed the pupils in the two dragons' eyes. Once he finished and moved away from the paper, the two dragons blinked their eyes, slowly rose out of the paper and with one swift movement flew away. The head monk looked on astonished and then understood why the young monk was reluctant of placing the pupils in the dragon’s eyes. He did not just draw dragons but he captured their essence.

In Composition Arthur Wesley Dow describes the nature of sumi-e painting:

the painter…put upon the paper the fewest possible lines and tones; just enough to cause form, texture and effect to be felt. Every brush-touch must be full-charged with meaning, and useless detail eliminated. Put together all the good points in such a method and you have the qualities of the highest art...

A gorgeous description for adults but one wonders how this expression of sumi-e painting can mix with kids. Gather around and I will tell you sumi-e ink painting is very easy and fun for children. First off, the tools are only ink, a brush and a piece of paper. Secondly, the process is not painstaking reproduction of the subject, but rather a brisk and concentrated capturing of its essence.
Thirdly, sumi-e paintings have made their mark in contemporary culture through the Playstation 2 and Wii consules video game called Okami.  The action-adventure game allows the player to control the main character in an interactive storyline, accomplished through the unconventional use of animated sumi-e illustration with other traditional Japanese art forms. 

On November 21 Japan Society’s Education Program hosts Art Cart:  Sumi Ink Painting.  Led by a  Japan Society educator and artist Linda Malhauser, a member of the National Sumi-e Society of America,  children learn basic painting techniques, and create original works of art in reaction to the wonderful art in our current exhibitions, The Sound of One Hand: Paintings and Calligraphy by Zen Master Hakuin , which features an array of kid-friendly figures such as ghosts and demons, dragons, acrobats, dancing mice, and monkeys!

Hakuin's hanging monkey. Via.

S.H.

You Better Workshops: Manga & Anime In The Classroom + Some Hakuin Help

Manga and anime can color classroom doldrums. Via.

The influence of anime and manga (Japanese animated films and comic books respectively) in America has grown beyond its cult status of the last decades of the 20th century. Anime conventions in the U.S.  draw thousands of participants rocking out in costume and taking part in readings, demos, panels, collecting, workshops and screenings. Major chain book retailers like Borders and Barnes & Noble have shelves of manga, and our traditional comic book stores are filled to the brim with Japanese imports.The rise of manga and anime as entertainment in the U.S. is ever growing, but there’s another area where it increasingly brings people together and makes a difference:

The classroom.

When I attended Japanese high school, the only manga I saw in class was sneakily hidden behind my friend’s textbooks during the occasional boring lesson. These days manga serves as a teaching tool to provide a fun and interactive way to expose American students to art, social sciences and foreign culture.

"For teachers of Japanese Studies, Asian Studies, or any kind of diversity studies, the rising popularity of anime and manga among young North Americans seems an opportunity too good to miss," writes Toni Levi, in her excellent essay "Anime & Manga: It's Not All Make-Believe"  at our About Japan teachers website. Levi discusses introducing the material to students:

There are basically three ways to approach anime and manga in the classroom: 1) to focus on the content using approaches drawn from the social sciences, 2) to focus on the content using analytical methods drawn from literary and dramatic criticism, and 3) to focus on the anime or manga as a cultural document in its own right. Each of these has something different to offer and all in all, this is a great way to bring exciting, entertaining, and culturally relevant works into the American classroom.

Various manga and anime have Japanese cultural references that can enlighten American children about foreign customs. For example, the classic Hayao Miyazaki children’s film, My Neighbor Totoro has a scene where the father takes a bath at night with his two children illustrating the importance of bath culture in Japan. Much manga and anime contains great coming-of-age stories suitable for young adults or teenagers. English teachers may like to know that there are also many references to old forms of Japanese storytelling such as kamishibai, bunraku and kabuki, whose influence is clearly seen in modern works literature.

On November 8 & 10, the Japan Society Education Program  presents the two-session workshop What’s With Japanese Comics?: Bringing Manga Into the Classroom, introducing educators to the art of manga and anime and how to utilize them as powerful teaching tools.

The November 8 session features Brian Camp, Programming Manager for CUNY TV and co-author of Anime Classics Zettai! 100 Must-See Japanese Animation Masterpieces. He introduces seminal works and themes as well as Japanese concepts of storytelling with special attention to popular animated cartoon shows that have sprung from manga. He'll discuss sources of manga’s appeal to American readers today, showing how trends in the comic book genre in the U.S. from the 60s-90s reflects what's happening today with manga, using the recent explosion of shoujo (girls’) manga as an example.

November 10 features artist and professional mangaka (comic book illustrator) Hiroki Otsuaka, who created the original manga Samurai Beam for our spring 2010 Kuniyoshi exhibit. Otsuka introduces manga from the creative side, and shows participants how to turn themselves into a manga character and create a manga-esque storyline from their life.

Because the classics are as valuable as modern fare to inspire learning, the Education Program recently wrapped up a sister-workshop called Integrating Art and Social Studies Using Paintings by Zen Master Hakuin, showing how Hakuin's lessons towards enlightenment can enrich a child’s educational experience. K-12 educators took a guided tour of The Sound of One Hand: Paintings and Calligraphy by Zen Master Hakuin and collaborated to create teaching ideas and materials to bring back to their classrooms.

According to Education Program staff, the workshop cleared up a number of misconceptions about Zen (a Google search for “zen” brings up an insane amount confusion), outlining three basic characteristics: the master/disciple relationship; opposition to the use of idols; and meditation on koans, "verbal paradoxes with no answers aimed at encouraging unorthodox approaches to self-reflection by the Zen believer," according to presenter Frank Felten. They discussed the simple formula of the "3 Hakuins": the playful Hakuin + the serious Hakuin = Hakuin the Zen monk, and Felton outlined Hakuin's major themes:

Hakuin chose themes that were in some way or another directly related to himself.  Supreme deities (Kannon/Avalokitesvara), sages that he admired or that interested him (Hotei, Yen t’ou), everyday objects as an important part of religious practice, elements of folk belief that he was accustomed to and that he considered an important part in life, calligraphy.

Concluding the workshop, Linda Mulhauser led a sumi ink painting lesson, where participants had a lot of fun working the brush and discovering that bamboo looks deceptively simple to paint. We're lucky to have Linda return November 21, to lead a sumi ink painting workshop for children ages 8-12.

T.D.

People, Monsters, Kids: Not Always What They Seem

Oh yes, it's an oni! Via.

We wrote about the OBAKE! costume party this Friday, but in addition, we have a Halloween treat just for the kids. Japan Society's Education Program invites children ages 3-10 to Meet Japan’s Mystical Folklore Creatures & Ghosts before the witching (i.e. trick-or-treating) hour on Sunday, October 31st.

Theatre Arts Japan -KIDS- debuts a new play written especially for this event, introducing the fantastical world of Japan's otherworldly creatures. In the story, a young man encounters a kind old woman on his way to light a lantern on a mountain top. When she invites him for tea, distracting him from his duties, the boy discovers she is not at all what she seems. He must turn to the mystical yokai  creatures in the woods and decide whether they are friend or foe and able to help him.

Among the throngs of Japanese beasties (there are literally hundreds), kids discover the tengu, a mysterious flying mountain creature; the kappa, a funky, frog-like river creature; the rokurokubi, a beautiful woman with a surprisingly long neck; and the ornery oni, who has the horns of a cow and the fangs of a tiger. After the theater performance, actors work with the children to create masks so they can transform into their favorite creatures from the show.

BOO!

For our more adult  monster enthusiasts, we hope to see you at the Friday, October 29 OBAKE! party. In honor of both events, here's another update on a traditional Japanese ghost story, this time for the parents:

The weather outside is cold and rainy, so your kids and their friends are bound indoors. You put them in the playroom, promising sweet treats if they behave and play quietly. For a time, they play as quietly as they can, but slowly peals of giggles crescendo  from behind the door. When you go to check on them, they blame each other for moving things, tickling each other or playing little tricks—all of which each denies. As you leave, you hear a soft giggle, and turn around to see them all looking at you with wide eyes. Relative quiet ensues as you prepare the snacks, but total, eerie silence meets you when you walk back into the room. What are they up to? And did you see one of them duck under the table? You shake your head, but take a quick peek when you set the treats down. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you. As you start to divide the treats, a ghostly little hand grabs one. You follow the hand, past the silken translucent sleeve, to the face of a small girl in a pink kimono, nibbling on a cookie. She smiles, crumbs falling to the floor and disappears. Your child's new playmate is a Zashiki Warashi.

S.H., S.J.

Go Shichigosan!

As an American kid living in Japan, I remember my first shichigosan ceremony.  My fellow playmates, neighbors and other children dressed up in their little hakama and kimonos and proceeded to the local shrine (maybe for their first time, I know it was mine). We walked up the stairs, through the aged torii gate into the main shrine’s building to be blessed and given a bag with chitose-ame ("thousand-year candy") which is a long, thin red and white candy--that reminded me of a candy cane. In Japanese culture it represents growth when placed in a small bag with a crane and turtle-- all to give long life.

The Shichigosan, or the 7-5-3 ceremony, began around the Heian period as a rite of passage from childhood into young adulthood. Each age represented a different achievement within the child’s life. At the age of three, a child could begin to grow their hair, representing they were no longer babies. At the age of five, boys could wear the hakama, and at age seven the girls could begin wearing an obi with their kimono. By age seven all children were considered young adults and ready to enter a new phase in their lives. This ritual also was a way to chase away evil spirits from the child to ensure that they would be given a long healthy life.

Shichigosan is a special ceremony that makes a child feel a bit more magical and ready to take on the world. Though the two ceremonies Japan Society hosts with the Shinto Foundation this weekend are full, we wish all children, no matter what nationality or religion health, happiness and well being!

S.H.

Shadow Play: Kids Build With Light

Detail of the original architectural sketch of Japan Society's building.

An architect is an artist, painting the tale of man’s relationship with their space. Unlike Western architecture, which keeps people and nature separate, Japanese architecture presupposes that the inside space and the outside space are one continuous piece of artwork.

Like all pieces of artwork, architecture shows the emotion and thoughts of the artist. Kazuo Nishi and Kazuo Hozumi authors of What is Japanese Architecture? remark, “Japanese through the ages have evolved a building art that seems to delight in opposites and contradictions”. Japanese architect uses light and shadow to reflect the purity, beauty, harmony and simplicity that unadorned nature characterizes for us through the changing seasons. 

On Sunday, September 26, two well known architects help children and their parents understand Japanese architecture’s intriguing interplay of light and shadow. Aki Ishida takes her client’s vision about a space and translates it into a distinct, innovative and intelligent design. Mina Hatano-Kirsch's designs melds with its surrounding environment, while reviving the bond between indoors and outdoors.

In the Japan Society family program Light in Japanese Architecture, the two artists explore the playful and friendly manner of Japanese architecture, and guide children through interactive and constructive activities that harnesses their imagination and allows them to create their own art with paper, wood and the never-ending possibilities of shadow and light.

S.H.

Washoku Update & Insider Interviews From Students

Chef Noriyuki Kobayashi teaches students the finer points of making sushi. Photo by Sara & Christina

The high school students participating in Washoku 101 are coming to the end of their two-week course in cooking Japanese-style. Some of the activities they’ve enjoyed are: learning how to make tsukemono (pickles), onigiri (rice balls), Japanese sweets, as well as visiting a Tofu factory, and participating in a tea ceremony.

You can keep up-to-date on their activities by checking out the students' blog. There are tons of great pictures, as well as interviews with the instructors, some of whom are well-known in their respective fields as masters of various Japanese culinary techniques.

In students Perdro and Tanner’s interview with Tofu manufacturer Yoko Difranica at House Foods, Ms. Difranica says that Tofu’s still a hard sell in the U.S.: “Tofu is an acquired taste and few people in the U.S. grow up with tofu. Another challenge is educating customers about tofu and not scaring them off by making them think that House Foods is trying push a healthy product and one with no taste.”

Some Japanese food has had a wider and warmer reception than tofu, though. The sushi chef at Megu Noriyuki Kobayashi experiences high demand for his specialty, he told students Sara and Christina. Maybe it’s because he’s trained with another master: “I didn’t really have the money for culinary school,” he said. “Actually, people didn’t use to go to culinary school, but would learn under a really good chef at real restaurants.”

All the classes, lectures, and demonstrations culminate in a private reception held at the Astor Center. Mr. Kobayashi will lead students in a demonstration of making and rolling sushi. Guests will be invited to join in and partake in the hand-made sushi feast. Additional demonstrations will also be held, as well as a meal at the end, of catered and student-made goodies.

N.O.

Sadako And The 1,000 Cranes

According to a Japanese legend, anyone who folds 1,000 paper cranes is granted a wish. In August 1955, 12-year-old Sadako Sasaki was hospitalized with leukemia developed as a result of nuclear fallout from the 1945 atomic bombing of Hiroshima. At the suggestion of a friend, she began the painstaking folding process. Paper was scarce, so she scavenged for medicine wrappers, and visited other patients, asking if she could use the paper from their get-well presents. Two months later Sadako’s condition took a turn for the worse, but before she died on October 25th surrounded by her family, she completed her goal of 1,000 cranes.

Chains of paper cranes left by visitors to the Sadako Peace Memorial in Hiroshima (seen through the roof). Via

Sadako's story became a touchstone for the anti-nuclear movement throughout Japan and is well known throughout the world to this day. In 1958, a memorial in her honor and in tribute to all the children that died as a result of the bombing, was unveiled at Hiroshima, where visitors still leave chains of paper cranes.

This tradition was brought to the U.S. in the wake of the September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center. Small chains of cranes were left on and near a fence at Broadway and Liberty Street near Ground Zero. These chains are now on permanent display at the Tribute WTC Visitor’s Center, alongside one of Sadako’s own cranes from 1955 which was donated by her family. In an event last year at Japan Society, Masahiro Sasaki, Sadako’s brother, said "Commonly in Japan, the crane is regarded as a symbol of peace. But for us, in the Sasaki family, it is the embodiment of Sadako's life, and it is filled with her wish and hope."

Three of Sadako's original cranes, one of which can be viewed at the Tribute WTC Visitor Center. Photo: Kazuko Minamoto

Marking the August 6th Hiroshima A-Bomb Memorial, Japan Society and the Tribute WTC Visitor Center present Sadako & 1000 Cranes Storytelling & Origami Crane Making. Children and families discover Sadako’s inspiring story through kamishibai, traditional Japanese paper-storytelling [check out this example from 1959]. There are two storytelling sessions. The first is in Japanese, featuring a new storybook created in cooperation with Sadako’s family. The second is a new English kamishibai version. Participants also learn to make a paper-crane chain of their own–including how to make 2-4 cranes out of one piece of paper

The event starts at the Tribute WTC Visitor Center (directions here) at 11:00 am with storytelling in Japanese. Then at 11:30, a bilingual origami crane-making session will be held, with the storytelling in English at Noon.

N.O.