Posts Tagged With: parade

Cats (Not the Broadway Show)

The Meiji Shrine is located in the Harajuku district, about which I wil quote Wikipedia: “Harajuku is known internationally as a center of Japanese youth culture and fashion. Shopping and dining options include many small, youth oriented, independent boutiques and cafés…” To put it another way, it’s where you find a whole lot of very oddly dressed young people; indeed the mere act of typing that sentence makes me feel like an old fart. But I am getting slightly ahead of myself.

As we exited the park and crossed the large intersection at the front of the railway station, the first thing that caught my eye was a building that said Cat Café. This is more or less what it sounds, unless you think it sounds like a place where cats go to drink coffee – which, now that I think of it, is something crazy enough for Japan to actually have. But no, what it actually is a place where people go to play with cats. It’s a big room with all sorts of comfy cat-friendly furniture and crawling with cats. You pay your entrance fee and for a half hour you get to de-stress by playing with a room full of cats. Or at least, maybe you get to de-stress. I am allergic to them, and no huge fan to begin with. If forced into that setting at gunpoint (which would be required), I would while away a happy half hour sneezing, wiping mucus out of my eyes, and running around screaming “Get it off me! Get it off me!” Many people who know me think that this would be well worth the investment.

But Alice is a cat person and I offered her the opportunity to go in solo, which slightly to my surprise she declined. But let the record show to my extreme cat-loving friends (Angie and Thumper, you know who you are) that I did offer.

The intersection and main thoroughfare heading away from the station were mobbed, and we worked our way slowly down the street in search of both lunch and the famous Cat Street, the latter having nothing to do with cats despite the name but rather the hub of the aforementioned “Japanese youth culture and fashion”. We were temporarily impeded along our route by some kind of religious parade, as yiou can see here.

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As you can see there are three large groups of identically-dressed marchers, each carrying a shrine. They were highly enthusiastic, to say the least, shouting in unison, fist-pumping, and thumping rhythmically on the bamboo shrine supports.

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All very interesting and exciting, to be sure, but no one in the crowd or the nearby shops seemed to know quite what they were doing there. It is likely that it is some kind of equinox celebration (which they are big on here), a couple of days late so that it could take place on the weekend.

We continued down the road to Cat Street, indeed encountering a great number of the promised fashionable youth. Many, especially the young women, were very elegant. Many were rather outré, and many were of the “casual/vaguely hostile” look. Here’s one of the latter.

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But the most unsettling by far are the quasi-Lolitas. Here’s a head shot of one.

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What you cannot see in this picture is the rest of her outfit, which is a frilly white knee-length dress — complete with petticoats — with a big lacy heart on the front, white stockings, and patent leather shoes. Here’s a really lousy shot of one of this species that I sneaked in the Edo Museum the other day.

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(Her boyfriend’s striped pants definitely add to the effect, whatever it is.)

The poor quality of the photo is a direct result of my having taken it on the fly from waist level without any niceties of focusing or composition, my having done so because I simply did not have the temerity to ask permission of someone who so clearly occupies a different universe than I do.

So the Lolita look is a thing; we’ve seen six or eight girls who look like this. So I guess that there is a demographic that considers it fashionable to dress as though you’re on a date with a pedophile. Creepiness factor = maximum. (Humbert Humbert, check your messages.)

So that is Cat Street and environs. In addition to the high end boutiques, it includes a lot of cool little shops like this one where they make candy by hand.

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…as well as some appealingly normal people like this mom carrying her daughter.

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We ended the day with a trip to the Tokyo Tower, the city’s second-highest structure. From 800 feet up, we got a spectacular 360-degree nighttime view of the city. I will post photos tomorrow after I have a chance to edit them.

Now we’re off to meet up with our tour group. We’ve been on our own for the past week, but today is our last day in Tokyo and starting tomorrow we head south with a group of 14 other people to Mt Fuji en route to Kyoto.

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Categories: Japan | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Who Are All These People, and What Are They Eating?

People who are not actually familiar with Hawaii — and this includes the large fraction of tourists who are focused entirely on their mai-tais — can easily overlook its complex and yeasty ethnic makeup. Hawaii’s demographics don’t look anything like the rest of the US; in fact, they don’t look much like anything anywhere. More than 20% of Hawaiians identify as mixed-race; taking that into account — because it makes the numbers add up to more than 100% — the breakdown of the largest groups is:

  • 58% Asian
  • 39% White
  • 23% Native Hawaiian and other Pacific Islander
  • 7% Hispanic
  • 3% Black

That’s quite the mix (and I should add that the absence of blacks is quite noticeable as one walks down the street here in Honolulu).  Precisely because it is such a melange, the faces of the locals make for quite the panoply.

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(I’m not sure why that first guy reminds me of Leonardo DiCaprio, but somehow he does.)

OK, what does this mean for us in practice on our visit? It means that there’s all sorts of cool food, that’s what. (What, did you think this was going to be some kind of anthropological treatise?) We are here visiting our old friends Laura and Brian, and they wisely realized that yesterday, our first day here, was a happy confluence of two food-related events: a farmer’s market at local Kapiolani Community College, and — insert drum roll and Asian gong sound here — a Chinese New Year parade.

(Laura and Brian themselves are pretty good exemplars of Hawaii’s ethnic potpourri. She’s a Jewish girl from Massachusetts; he’s ethnic Japanese from the Hawaiian island of Kauai. They have a daughter in her 20’s, whose consequently stirred-up gene pool makes her beautiful in proper Darwinian fashion.)

So, food. For breakfast we worked our way through the farmer’s market, chowing down on everything in sight like a small group of well-behaved army ants, or perhaps a genteel Sherman’s March to the Sea, navigating through a mass of both locals and Japanese tourists, the later all in sun hats and moving in amoebic little groups as though chained at the ankles. As we ambled with feigned patience from stall to stall, our diet included the following, all locally made and in no particular order:

  • Assorted local fruit juice blends, e.g. passion-fruit/ginger and strawberry/blackberry
  • Grilled local gigantic shrimps on skewers. (You eat the whole thing, shell and all.)
  • Seared ahi tuna sliders with mushroom tempura sticks
  • Kimchee sausage on a stick
  • Assorted homemade popsicles including honeydew with ginger and dark chocolate with Chinese spices
  • Ice cream bananas, which is a type of creamy banana, not a type of ice cream
  • Kahlua pig
  • Dark chocolate plus Kona coffee-covered macadamia nuts
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Brian bites the big one.

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Alice, still hungry.

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One could persuasively argue that poi = taro hummus.

And this was breakfast, mind you.

Having eaten our fill — a sentiment that would immediately prove both naive and ironic — we headed home for some down time, inexplicably becoming peckish along the way and so stopping en route to pick up some poke (marinated, seasoned ahi sushi),  boiled peanuts (a Hawaiian local favorite), and chicharron, which sounds Hispanic and is: it’s pork rinds.

We variously napped and pigged out some more at home before driving downtown for the Chinese New Year parade. And of course, upon arriving there, the first thing we did was start eating again, kicking things off with some roast suckling pig from this guy.

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OK, so we just ate. What’s your point?

Honolulu’s Chinatown, like so many American Chinatowns, pretty clearly has its best days decades behind it and has a rather characteristic seedy feel that you will also experience in its counterparts in Washington DC, Philadelphia, and even — though it is vastly larger and somewhat less tatty — San Francisco. It all has something of a time-warp-y feel to it, with tattoo parlors and dusty arcane-looking herbal remedy stores, the ones with dried lizard skins in the windows.

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Good place to pick up some dried lizard for either your arthritis or your black arts.

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An 1890’s bawdy house that became the “Club Hubba Hubba” just after World War II. I don’t think the women are still there. God, I hope not.

But the important thing is, that we kept eating. Strolling through the crowded streets as the dragon puppeteers suited up for the parade, we continued to glut ourselves on mango ice cream, lobster chips, and almond cookies, all the while reminding ourselves that we had dinner reservations for later. This was roughly equivalent to reminding a cokehead sucking on a crack pipe that he has a job interview scheduled in three hours.

(Speaking of cokeheads, I feel compelled to relate a minor incident. As it happens my arms are covered at the moment with some painless but very nasty-looking bruises, souvenirs of a short hospital visit just before our departure during which I came under the ministrations of a technician who had, apparently, never inserted an IV or taken blood before. The side streets of the parade route had a number of stalls advertising local worthy organizations — Jaycees, local sports clubs, and the like — including a meth clinic. Despite my pleadings Alice rather stodgily forbade me from walking up to them, arms out with black-and-blue marks on full display, and asking for help. I suppose that in any marriage you need to have at least one responsible adult present at all times, but still.)

The parade itself was a raucous and colorful affair, full of dragons and martial arts displays and little old ladies carrying fans whilst sitting on festooned flatbed trucks, smiling and waving delicately to the crowd as they represented assorted charitable Chinese organizations that we of course had never heard of.

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There were drummers, a platoon of kids on BMX bikes, and of course beauty queens riding on top of convertibles: “Miss United States: Samoa/Guam/Hawaii/Mariana Islands”. “Miss Chinese Chamber of Commerce” and her first four runners-up, the latter in a convoy of Mustangs whilst the winner rode in a Corvette, and all waving gamely with that odd rotary side-to-side waving technique perfected by Queen Elizabeth II. And game they had to be: how would you like to be the last of those girls, smiling at the crowd while sitting on a top of a car with a sign announcing that you were the fourth runner-up? “Hi, I’m Jessica! Those four girls in front were all prettier than me!”

Anyway, we had a wonderful time, and saw many dragons.

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And a couple of hours later, we of course went to our dinner reservation and had a big and wonderful meal.

Categories: Hawaii | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

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