Convenience Everywhere!

Vodafone Battery Charger, originally uploaded by bloompy.

I remember Japan as a land of gadgets: there is no end to what this country can invent.

I remember a friend of mine who gave me a book filled with Japanese gadgets, including this small table you can "wear" in front of your tummy (the table is hanged much like the cigarette tray worn by cigarette girls in the US in the 40s) so that you can lay your forearms there while you walk, just in case you are too tired to swing your arms.

The cell phone battery chargers, such as the ones shown in the picture, are almost everywhere in Tokyo: in cell phone stores & service centers and in photo processing places, to name a few locations. I have only seen these machines in Tokyo but have not spotted them in Europe or South East Asia, and for sure, not in the US.

As the name implies, this device charges your cell phone battery. When you are away from home and find out that your cell phone is running out of juice, you go where you can find these devices, figure out which drawer to open (each drawer is specific to a certain model of cell phone).

First, you punch in that drawer number, and if the drawer is available (empty), it pops open. Then you put your phone in there, connect the supplied cord to your phone, closed the drawer, punch in your code (usually it is your cell phone security code) and the drawer locks itself automatically. You can leave the phone there securely (unless someone actually steals the entire machine filled with these phones).

Upon returning, you punch in the same security code, and voila, the drawer opens, and you retrieve your phone with its battery fully recharged. In other places and providers, some fee may be charged for the use of this machine, but at least with Vodafone Tokyo, the service is free.

The Return of the Cicadas

I recently returned to Tokyo from an extended Golden Week vacation. I left it as the city was trying to shed its cold weather and came back to see that some foreigners had donned shorts and light shirts, which could only mean that the warmer weather had arrived (one cannot really tell by the way most businessmen dress as they always wear the same dark suits, whiter shirts and dark ties, but that all will change soon, and I will explain that more later). The smell of the ginkgo (or gingko) biloba tree wafts throughout the city; these showy gymnospermous trees of Eastern Chinese origin can be found lining up the different neighborhood streets, and the smell . . . , well, let me say that there is a distinct scent to it that any sexually aware human being would easily recognize.

Tokyo mornings are beautiful, peaceful, and enjoyable, especially in the Springtime. The sun starts to reveal himself very early in the morning, around 4:30 or perhaps even earlier, necessitating one to have very opaque drapes and curtains in the bedroom if one is to shield him or herself away from the bright light.

Last night a friend, my partner, and I ate at a restaurant called Cicada (review will be available at the accompanying site at bloompyeats.blogspot.com) on Gaien-nishi dori in the Minami Azabu area. The name of the restaurant proved to be premonitory as this morning, for the first time since the end of summer last year, I heard the first of the cicadas in the distance, competing with the squawking of the crows. I had my window opened but the screen closed to keep the mosquitoes out (perhaps it is still too cool a weather for those blood-suckers to return, but so far, I have found and killed 3-4 of those vampiric pests).

(Now, returning to the dress code of the Tokyoites: the government has recently persuaded their male citizens to shed their dark suits, white shirts and dark ties in favor of "Summer Breeze" outfit [much like the American's Casual Friday outfit]. This was done so that buildings' air-conditioning could be set at a higher temperature, therefore reducing the energy intake and the heat outflow to the streets of Tokyo. The government is serious in reducing global warming [it would be rather embarrassing not to set example for other KYOTO Protocol adherents]. Up until now, female colleagues had had to brace the glacial temperature at offices everywhere because the cooler temperature ensures that their male counterpart would be at ease wearing their layered clothing inside the buildings [for further read: NY Times' James Brooke's article "Is a Salaryman without a Suit Like Sushi without Rice?" at www.nytimes.com/2005/05/20/business/worldbusiness/20tieless.html? ])

The Last Shabu-Shabu

Hanezawa Outdoor Dining, originally uploaded by bloompy.

After a 3-day winter-like weather that brought rain and cold wind across the city, Tokyo re-emerged into the sunlight on Thursday, although unaccompanied by the glory of the cherry blossoms. Today the Hanezawa Garden, a favorite restaurant near where I live, offers its last shabu-shabu lunch and dinner for the season. Beginning next week, the Korean BBQ will again be featured as the main and only attraction in the outdoor dining at this elegant restaurant complex.

I was given a seat that was partially shaded by the tree; yet giving me full access to the bath of light available in front of me. The cherry blossoms in this garden still retained some of their flowers, but the look was pretty much emaciated. Throughout lunch, the petals were blown by the wind and fell down to the earth as if scattered by the hands of the gods and goddesses. The effect was magical. The shower of petals looked like a summer snow.

As lunch progressed, the comfort of the shade left me exposed to the mighty sun. Unlike the winter sun whose effect one could hardly feel, this one made its presence known. While enjoying my book -Marco Livingstone's David Hockney- I felt the heat becoming slightly unbearable. The presence of a standing waiter nearby provided a much-needed temporary shelter, but alas, his shadow went with him as he was called by a customer at a far-away table. I was once again exposed.

I am not complaining. After a three-day insistence by the grey winter weather to stay in the city, I welcome the change of weather. Spring, hopefully, is here to stay.

(For a review of the Hanezawa Garden, please consult http://bloompyeats.blogspot.com)

Fleeting Beauty

The white and pink blossoms that only a week ago provided a sight for the tired wintery eyes have been swept away by the wind and rain that came to Tokyo this week. With the temperature dropping to mimic a winter weather, it would be nice to escape to the mountains of Hakone and soak in the hot springs...

Confetti of Petals

Confetti of Petals, originally uploaded by bloompy.

It feels as if there were many weddings and birthday parties taking place these last few days for there were so much confetti strewn across the city. In fact, Tokyo (and all over Japan) is experiencing what the French call elegantly "La Fleuraison de Cerises", better known here as the Cherry Blossoms. In private gardens and public parks, canopies of the white flowers dominate the landscape, and the city is blanketed with confetti of petals. Last year I was travelling back to California when the cherry blossoms happened, much to my regret; the only consolation was that upon my arrival at the San Jose airport, I spotted one or two trees with blossoming cherry trees, but let's be real here, it ain't the same.

Last week, when the entire city was wondering to each other back and forth when the colder weather would give in to the warmer climate to allow the buds to emerge, I asked myself what the obsession was with this particular natural phenomenon. After all, this concrete jungle of a city is graced by the presence of other equally stunning flowers throughout the year, like the pinkish red Azaleas. Last Tuesday, while walking past three trees in my area, I saw that none of the flowers was apparently ready to come out. I tried to imagine if I would be amazed by the sight of a full blossoming tree. Few days later, I saw a third of the tree was covered with flowers. Still I was not too overly impressed.

But suddenly yesterday, on a bright, sunny but cool Saturday, it all changed. Accompanied by two friends and equipped with a camera, I set out to the Kudanshita area, heading toward the complex of the notorious Yasakuni-jinja (the Yasakuni shrine is where the war deads are interred; an annual visit by the Japanese prime minister to honor those deads remained controversial for Japan's role in World War II ). The walkway before and slightly after the two torii gates was lined mainly with food vendors. A vast area on one side, under huge pine trees punctuated by several Cherry blossoms, was occupied by picnickers on straw mats and people eating at tables provided by the food vendors. These picnics are so popular that it is difficult to secure an area for a group gathering. I learned that freshmen of many companies usually were sent early in the morning to block a certain area for their companies' people.

As one traversed the second torii gate and through a wooden double gate, one is greeted by a shower of these confetti, blown by the wind from the canopies of sakura abound. It was a stunning view, indeed. I gathered that because I was so used in seeing the greens of the trees juxtaposed against a clear blue sky that a sight of these millions of white flowers against the same blue heavens presented quite a different view of the landscape. There are other flowering trees, but usually those flowers are but punctuations in a bed of greens, but with the Cherry Blossoms, the whiteness of the flower really overwhelms any hint of greens. For the next few days, these green leaves will yield to the powerful presence of the white flowers.

At the end of the visit to the shrine area, we crossed the street and walked along toward the more beautiful Chidorigafuchi area, a stretch of walkway along a moat. The entire area was like a queue line at Disneyland, with people lining up to see the coming attraction. Even the overpass, a pedestrian crossing bridge, was chockfull of couples in love and family members in cheerful mood. None of this long waiting dampened their enthusiasm in viewing the blossoms up closer. Again, the sight did not disappoint: the moat was lined with the trees in full blossom. The audience was treated with the sight of several boats rowing down below: perhaps young couples in love and old couples rowing down memory lane (I suppose the middle-age couples are busily tending their screaming children and rebellious teenagers). Petals fell onto the moat but with each row of the oars, they were pushed to the sides. I saw a boat rowed by a much abled man, cleaving into a body of water filled with the strewn petals, but then his boat got under a tree. As if punishing the rower, the tree's branches overwhelmed him and for a moment, I saw him struggle to free himself from the clutching branches. He was more careful after that.

A Japanese friend asked me why foreigners always thought that the cherry blossoms were pink instead of white. I do believe the answer lies in the fact that the Japanese themselves depict these flowers as pink, as shown in travel brochures, billboards in the metro, and even fake cherry blossoms that decorate some stores and pachinko parlors; they are all white-centered with pink edges. From any distance, they are unmistakably pink.

There are still many different parts of the city I have yet to visit, but today's viewing of my first ever Japanese Cherry Blossoms will be etched in my memory. Unfortunately, the weather forecast has called for a rain spell in the next three days, reducing the chance that any flowers will remain intact in the branches after the rain subsides.