Field Notes from My Master's Project in Japan 1997: Week 5

Week Five
Monday, August 11, 1997 - Kawabe, Japan
Makase(Impossible!)
Ganbare (Hold out! Don't give up!)

Learned a new word tonight. I was talking with my friend, Naoko, and she told me she was 40. I said I thought she was 30. She said in a great tone of voice "Makase!!" (impossible) pronounced mahkahseh. It is kind of a great exclamation of disbelief with a hint of cynicism folded in. I also had a new culinary experience that I hope not to duplicate, I ate cow tongue. Ohh so delicious, they said, as they squeezed lemon on the thinly sliced meat slowly cooking on the terra-cotta square barbecue sitting on the small short wooden table in a small crowded smoky room floored with straw tatami mats. Can you say fire hazard?

Anyway, today was the hardest day yet. The rain has not stopped here for six days. Every morning I wake up to rain. The weather is gray and uninviting. The air is heavy much like the feeling I have in the morning. I have not been sleeping. I had forgotten about this. When I come to Japan I turn into some kind of insomniac, maybe it is the food or maybe it is all the tea but I wear down easily. Everyone says to be careful, to take care of my body. When I was last in Japan, I weighed about 15 pounds more than I do now. Wherever I go people who I used to know look at me funny, tell me they almost didn't recognize me because I have lost so much weight, and then ask me if I have been sick. I say no, just been to graduate school.

Today I spent much time trying to get the processing of my film sorted out and I regret to say it is still being worked out. First problem is the cost, second problem is that I have Kodak color negative film. Japan is FUJI land. I have decided that I hate color neg. film. What should I do? Bag the Kodak and go buy Fuji slide film? Still thinking about this.

Spent quite a bit of time thinking about this project and how it will all come together. Naoko and I talked at length about my ideas and she made some useful suggestions, as well as headed me in a good direction. Naoko was a photographer here in Kawabe for 15 years and knows many people. She suggested that I start with this one farming family that farms peppers (Kawabe's most famous product). The family has many generations working together, grandmother, father, college student. Then integrate other aspects of the culture like childhood, festivals (taiko), rituals, rice, elderly people using different people show the way of life throughout Kawabe. This might be a good way to go because then I can show many people of Kawabe and include photos from different situations. Again I am looking for old and young integration. This is difficult to do, but I am going to try. Every where I go here people say to me "Ganbare" pronounced gahn bahrey which means hold out or don't give up.

Tuesday, August 12, 1997 - Kawabe, Japan
Taihen Ojama shimashita (I really interrupted you, or I really got in your way)

It's 10:30 p.m. My friend and former student, Miyuki, just left excusing herself saying "Taihen Ojama shimashita" which means I am really sorry for getting in the way. She dropped by to bring me watermelon and clean my kitchen. I was talking on the phone in my underwear and she rang my bell. I have always had an open door policy here. If I am home please come in. Well last time I was here, I had all the neighborhood children show up. This time my friends come over any time. Tonight I ate dinner with two women from Kawabe So (the nursing home) who live in the same building. They just showed up too, with food. I had just had a interesting experience trying to get take out from one of two ramen shops in the town. They looked at me kind of funny when I explained I wanted to take it home and eat it. Take out has not made it to Japan yet, and fast food is still only at Macdonalds (pronounced Macdonaldo). Then they said OK. Well about 30 minutes later, they hand me a plastic bag containing a huge ceramic bowl full of ramen covered in seran wrap. A nice bowl. I guess if I steal the bowl, they can find me. Right now I am the only westerner living in this town. That might look bad for my photo work. Front page of the local paper, Jennifer Loomis caught stealing large ceramic bowls from ramen shop. The first paragraph might go like this: Jennifer Loomis trying to save money and gather presents for friends, teachers, and family in the States was caught trying to mail more than thirty ramen bowls to the States. Loomis began stealing ramen bowls by innocently asking for take out in elementary Japanese. After a three day man hunt, she will be held without bail and will remain at the prison where she will be forced to teach English to 20 year olds (wakamono=young things).

The film problem seems to finally be sorted out. Naoko, my friend who used to be a photographer says that she know the lab to get the film processed. Kodak or Fuji, this lab can get things done. I brought her 15 rolls. She is also checking on a scanner for me so maybe I can post some of my photos. And she introduced me to the current photographer for the little paper here. Firmly but sweetly telling him to take care of me. He has a light table that I can use whenever I want which will be good.

Picked up some more film. Still hate color neg. I think I will be OK if I don't see the prints but only the negatives.

Spent the morning visiting the day care center and the temple spreading the word that I want to photograph a farming family.

analysis
Had a rough few days but Naoko has helped me a lot. I taught her how to hug like I like to do with friends. She is so bony that it was almost painful at first, but she is getting the hang of it. I think I may just stick with color neg. Naoko also is introducing me to a pepper farmer. Pepper’s are this towns claim to fame.

Wednesday, August 13, 1997 - Kawabe, Japan
Big Day
Today is Ohakamaeri. This basically means that the entire family and extended family, if possible, trek to the family grave stones. All over Japan people are on the move driving, flying, taking trains, biking back to what is translated as their birth place. There they gather. Rain, sleet, snow, and typhoon, they go to visit the graves bringing flowers, incense, candles, and food. Of course today it is raining and gray. ASA1000 speed film isn't even good enough.

Spent the morning at the Akita Municipal Junior College. In the middle of Akita is this amazing two-year college of art, design and traditional Japanese crafts. Amazing. Mrs. Mito who used to be the nurse at a school where I taught, hooked me up with her younger brother who works here. They have more computers than they know what to do with, more than 200 Macintoshes 8100, 8500, scanners (though flat bed), video editing, 3D animation, etc. They even have two SGI's that they don't even use because they haven't had time to learn yet. The strange thing is that there are only 300 students. I was floored.

My friendly host, trying every English word he could muster, gave me a first class tour. Brave man, most Japanese who are fluent will not even venture a try at English even though the language that has permeated the culture to such an extent that Japan has developed its own English. For example, Pocarri Sweat is a drink that is like Gatorade. Anyway the tour continued on to a complete dark room for both color and black and white, and a complete studio with brand new everything. Mr. Nagai made a point of saying that none of the studio equipment had even been used and the college has been open two years. Then on to all the textile rooms, the pottery, the metal shop and on and on it goes. They converted a two-hundred-year old train station into the crafts studios. This in Japan is very RARE. Modern Japan is obsessed with the new. Antiques and anything that does not reek of modernity usually becomes garbage or is torn down. Right around the corner from Kawabe is this huge suburban sprawl of two story houses. Everybody wants to live in NEW TOWN pronounced nuuuu towwwnnoo. The place is kind of like a Leave-it-to- Beaver-like neighborhood, but homogenous Japanese style with small trees, small dogs, and monochromatic houses (though I did see a pink one).

Back to the college. After the tour, I found myself face to face with the head honcho of the college. In typical Japanese style, a small nymph-like white-faced young girl walks in with a tray carrying, no not tea (that was six years ago, this is now modern Japan), three cups of coffee in shiny dainty white cups sitting on paper thin saucers. Again in typical Japanese style, we talked for about an hour about nothing relating to my visit other than the fact that I was a foreigner and the Head Honcho had been to Sweden (a foreign country). Finally I heard Mr. Nagai say that I really wanted to live in Japan (???), he also gave him the total run down on my project and said that he hoped it would be OK for me to use the dark room. I also heard him say "Pro" after the word Internet. Basically I wowed him by checking how much RAM the computer I was using had. Too bad my master’s defense won't be so easy.

So everything is a go. I just have to buy my own paper and chemicals and I can use their dark room. They introduced me to a fairly tall dark haired guy wearing Khaki shorts, Teva shoes, and a striped polo shirt, Mr. Katsuaki. He teaches industrial design and basically is at my service. He said the students would also be around to help me. They all seemed to talk a lot about the Internet. I showed them the MU page and a few other interesting ones and explained my purpose of integrating sound and photographs. I forgot to add that they have a digital camera at this school as well, but no one uses it. Sugoi (oh my God!) pronounced su goy emphasis on the last syllable.

Naoko came over at lunch and brought my film. I glanced at it, afraid of what I might see. Wasn't that bad. Tomorrow I am going to go the Yakuba (town office) and use their light table to have a good look. I gave her the rest of my film. Film is film is film. I want to look at the negatives and see how my shooting is, how the content is. Color can be "fixed." She also was delighted to tell me that she found me a scanner to use at the local telephone company office. I just have to figure out a way to get there. God bless Naoko. I hugged her and again taught her to hug me back which she did. She is getting better.

P.M.
Anno Yo ( a drunk man's way of getting your attention) when pronounce with a slur it means Uhm, you, look over here.

My name is Jeffehni when being pronounced for the first time(or second or third time) by drunk Japanese men, young and old. I just tell them Jen will work. I will answer or listen (or ignore if the person is too drunk, which tends to happen after 10:00 p.m.).

Went to Ohakamaeri at 3:00 p.m. today. Of course it was raining. Gross. I was carrying too much gear. I spent two hours photographing people I didn't know, doing what they do best on this day of the year, lighting candles, hitting the gong, and rubbing their hands together in remembrance of people who have died, and rubbing Buddah's belly and then their own to make them well (I rubbed Buddah's eyes and head, and then my own. What the hell right?). I found myself explaining that in the US once someone dies you have a funeral a few months after and that's it as far a ceremony goes. You may keep a picture on your dresser and visit the grave periodically but that is it. The Japanese I spoke with were shocked. Honestly shocked that that was it. In Japan, at least one person in the house, remembers the dead person every day usually with offerings of rice and water to the family Butsudan (a little or big altar with the dead person's picture) which is in the living room. And at Obon, all the family members come together and go to the grave with candles and special treats like rice, vegetables, and candy all presented on a lotus leaf. The crows get real fat at Obon.

I met a family of three, a mother and two daughters at their grave. They said it was fine to shoot them and then they invited me to dinner. I next photographed inside the Temple. In the main room is a huge altar with a big bell and a big cauldron thing that you hit and it makes a nice mellow gong sound (on tape). There was this real cool menorah-looking candle thing. No one could tell me what it was for. Or maybe the Japanese was difficult. But Takahashi said he would explain tomorrow. There was also an altar for all the people who had died since the last Obon. There was also this room full of small altars where I think they kept the ashes of the dead people. I am not sure. But it was dark. I saw the family that I spent Sunday with at a party for this guy who died 33 years ago.

Then I went to the Sasaki's house. The plan was all to go to Ohakamaeri together. There are three kids at the Sasaki's, a mom, dad, grandmother, and grandfather and a nice dog whose name is ChiChi. Unfortunately, much to the delight of the younger kids, I kept calling him ChinChin which means penis penis. Oops. Six years ago these three kids were part of the clan that used to come and play at my apartment. They are all grown up now, wearing frosty nail polish, lipstick and dyeing their hair yellow (the oldest boy). But they are still great kids. By the time we went it was dark and raining (no surprise). Whatever. The girls insisted on carrying my tripod. So no picture there. Sure a natural photo of a cute Japanese girl in a Duke's of Hazard T-shirt carrying a tripod, in the dark. The mother was reluctant to be photographed. She works at Kawabe So. I got the feeling that all was not well within the family. This could have been one of the reasons for her hesitation to be photographed. The father reeked of alcohol when I showed up at 5:00 p.m. He had buck teeth and was kind of slimy. And as the night progressed, his face got redder and redder. The Sasaki family is one of the wealthier families in this town or so I am told by all the gossipy young and old women who I talk with me. They have a huge house carpeted with tatami mats and a huge butsudan (alter to the dead ancestors located in the living room). The back yard is long and wide with many varieties of vegetables and Chi(n)Chi(n) on a short metal chain.

The grandmother was as genki (healthy) as ever. Typical Japanese house, she asked her 17-year old granddaughter to help her prepare the offerings for the grave and the daughter said no way. The grandmother then said with a big smile "Wagamama" which means selfish, and then proceeded to whine about what a big problem this is as her granddaughter is calling her friend on her personal cell phone (paid for by grandmom and granddad).

Left the house stuffed full of sushi, tea, and sake. The entire house came to the genkan (doorway) to see me off. Of course I had too much stuff because of the rain, and I wore tennis shoes which means about three minutes of silence after saying my final goodbye because I had to bend over, untie them, insert my foot, and retied them. The future in Japan is in Velcro. Invest now. Oh, and then another minute of unlocking my bike.

But I still had one more house to go to. I told the family that I met at the grave that I would come for dinner. And I knew they would expect me. Plus they were friendly and on my way home.
I arrive and as I expected the table is all set and they have already eaten, thank god because I was late. The mother scurries to the back kitchen and comes running back with a cold bottle of beer like the house is on fire and she is carrying the only bucket of water. Then as soon as I had a sip she would pick up the bottle and fill my glass. Well in Japan if someone is pouring for you, you had better pick up your glass, or it is rude. So the game continued, as soon as I would put down the glass after a sip to take a bite to eat she would start pouring. Needless to say I didn't get to eat much. But I managed to finish the beer. The daughter, Hirome, is actually an acquaintance that I met six years ago.

The family had been drinking wine and the father had a red face and as the evening progressed (I was only there for an hour) he became harder and harder to understand. Typical in Japan the women become embarrassed by the drunken behavior of the man of the household and kind of ignore him. That is when the "Ano Yo" started. He kept telling me that he was head of the fire station. And said that I should come by any time for tea. I said sure. Then he said he knew someone at Fuji and maybe he could get me some free film. I am not holding my breath because he kept repeating himself over and over. He also said that anytime there is a major accident or fire he would call me. OK I said, here is my number.

Just before I was going to leave before I started the process of putting on my shoes, the grandmother upon hearing that I liked pictures disappeared for about 15 minutes to reappear with a book of pictures from her trip to Disneyland. She is 83. She rode all the rides and absolutely loved the roller coasters. Amazing. She also told me to come back anytime when she is farming to take pictures.

analysis

Photos from the Ohakamaeri I think were good. The Sasaki's photos weren't that great because we got a late start and it was dark. I am still thinking about how I can tie all this together. I do find myself when I am in these people's houses for dinner chilling and not taking photographs. The light is usually overhead fluorescent and there isn't anything particularly amazing. I think I will try and take a few photographs but it is difficult to shoot a "documentary" situation if you are actually a large reason for the situation. I have found two farming families, Mr. Kawakami a pepper farmer, and Mr. Seki (same Seki that showed me around the apartment when I first got here) a kangyo noka which means part-time farmer. Most Japanese farmers are part-time farmers. They only farm on the weekend. I also told them that I want to photograph their usual life. They both have grandparents who live with them and help with the farming. And they both agreed to the shooting.

Thursday, August 14, 1997 - Kawabe, Japan
Clear Skies
Sky was clear today when I woke up at 4:50 a.m. This time it was not insomnia, but I went to photograph the town men and women cleaning the shrine (different from the temple that is used during Obon). The shrine is 230 years old according to one guy. It is used for festivals. Men and women are assigned work duties. Takahashi, my Taiko friend, is in charge of preparing the shrine for the festival. This entails cleaning and purification.

Off of this main road, Highway 12, there is a pebble drive. At the back of the drive sits a white Tori gate that indicates the entrance to a shrine. Walking under the gates and up this long and winding stairway that sits under a canopy of thick foliage, I passed people, all older, cleaning and mowing. At the top of the stairway is another Tori gate, and then one more before you come to the trees. The people were busy bees. Men mowing and women squatting down in their little covens chatting as they weeded or washed dishes. Women are definitely separate from the men and it is rare that the two interact. I have several photographs that point to this.

In no time, the overgrown jungle was mowed, weeded and trimmed in preparation for the upcoming ceremonies. They hung a flag to announce that there would be a festival at this shrine. And then everyone went home for breakfast. As I started packing up my stuff, one of the older guys, Mr. Sato and his grandson, Kooki, started playing catch underneath the white Tori gate. This image kind of symbolizes what I have been thinking about as I have been photographing the ceremonies and rituals during the past few days. How rituals used to be kind of a bridge between the old and young.

As I was leaving a reporter for the Akita newspaper, Sakigakishinbun, pulled me aside and asked if he could ask me a few questions and take some pictures for the paper. How he heard about me being here I have no idea. But and a hour and a half later after he took a bunch of gross pictures of me, and I told him why I was here, he left with a bunch of my film saying he could process it for free at the newspaper. I was shocked and told him he didn't have to do this as best I could in the proper Japanese to refuse something. He took the film.

Red fire trucks at noon.
Mrs. Oishii told me to come by and that she would let me lay on the electric mat to re-energize my ki. I took a nap lying under old photographs of someone who must have died a while ago and of Mrs. Oishii dancing the samba as volts of electricity pulsed through my body. I did feel better, but it was strange to think about.

Energized, I went to explore last night’s offer of tea at the firehouse. Mr. Takahashi (different person than taiko) ushered me into his office and a tall gangly looking guy (Shirado Shun) who looked vaguely familiar brought in two cups of coffee. Obviously not adept at playing office lady, he forgot the saucer, milk, and sugar, and had to go back into the belly of the fire department three times. The third time he came back bringing the sugar, someone said that he was my student six years ago and that I used to play soccer with him. Bingo!

With electricity and coffee pumping through my veins, the next thing I know the fire chief is pulling out all of the fire trucks into the middle of the road and putting up the search lights, turning on the sirens, and telling me to climb in. We didn't go for a ride, but he kept saying here take a picture. I have about 5 shots of red fire trucks at noon with men standing by them. Oh and one of me in the fireman's jacket and hat, that is way to long so I end up looking like a flasher with a rain hat on.

P.M.
Ohairai
Before every festival in Japan that is affiliated with a shrine, which includes most of them. They have a purification. The Kumnaojinja had two purifications. One for those who worked getting the shrine prepared and one for the "erai hito" pronounced er ai shto which basically means important people. At 7:00 the people started to gather. The sound of the cicadas made was deafening and mosquitoes the size of sparrows were feasting on everyone. The sound of swatting continued until someone brought in the bug incense that a coil burned which releases a smoke that kills mosquitoes, never mind that it can't be too good to breath. There was one light and it was dark. Mr. Sakaki is the master of the Shrine. He did some drumming, and chanting (all on tape) and then waved this stick with a bunch of white paper on it. Basically that was it. I got a few cool pictures. It was a very male thing and I was kind of intimidated. I had my monopod which helped in the low light.

analysis
I am enjoying myself, really. I really like the way I have no idea where I am going to eat breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dinner, and dinner. Just looked at some film on a light box the size of a post card. Better than nothing. Amongst the rolls were some frames with which I am pleased. Better than nothing. Kawabe So, the nursing home, is definitely my strongest stuff, with the grave cleaning ranking second. For today, I think I have risen above worrying that I am taking shitty pictures and just started taking them, trying to be innovative and looking for the light while keeping in mind how this all comes together. Definitely looking at the film helped me see a few things I need to keep working on. Although, I was not looking at prints and I cannot really tell about color shift. I find I am in a lot of dark places. Carrying a monopod or a tripod is difficult on a bike but I think I am going to have to try to figure something out. I wish I had a 105mm. The 80-200 is a pain in the ass because it is so big and cumbersome. I hate it, but I force myself to use it. I try to live by the “use every lens in the bag” rule. And I have started using two bodies which, after I got used to it, helps a lot.

It is also a find that I have this lab processing my film and not a Mom and Pop shop. May have gotten a connection into the main newspaper here from that reporter who interviewed me. I may be able to process film there after all. He said he could do it, about three rolls a day. Free. Well I gave him a few rolls to test out his offer.

Now the big question is starting to take shape. Why should anyone care that I am here? Why should anyone care about this project. A friend emailed me with this poignant piece of prose, challenging me to think. As I go from event, to practice, to event, to house, to fire station, to and fro on my bike, I wonder about this.

These festival and Obon rituals are an important part of the life of this village. Although I am not totally sure how to integrate them into the final project, I am thinking about these photos as more of an anthropological study of this culture. I have been trying to photograph with the idea that these festivals and rituals are a bridge between the ages. I am wondering in hind-sight how to have done this better. Possibly find one family that was going through all these things. Time was a problem as well as finding someone willing.

Friday, August 14, 1997 - Kawabe, Japan
Mercy Clean (Japanese English written on the handy wipe given out with lunch at the Shinto Purification Ceremony)
Rituals, rights, purifications, chanting, silence, dancing, fires burning, stirring the boiling cauldron with rice stalks, men dressed in pastel skirts wearing black hats that looked like something you strain your spaghetti in, white, red, yellow, green, blue papers strung up in the rafters at noon. Today was the Ohairai (purification) for the important people of the town. All the biggies were there and four Shinto priests and one woman wearing a hat that had gold leaves dangling from it to authenticate the ceremony. She kept cracking me up because she was dressed in ritual wear looking so serious and then you noticed that she was holding a pink fly swatter. Every few minutes, she would flip into a frenzy, and you would hear a swatting sound above the low voices of the men hob nobbing.

When the ceremony got started, it was intimidating. I think I made some good pictures though. I kept wondering about getting in the middle of it, but a) I am not brave enough for that, and b) I really didn't want to be disrespectful. Maybe this will be what separates me from some awesome photographer but I couldn't do it. I did go around the back and photograph as the men bowed and did their thing at the shrine. One man who was drunk said that I should have gotten right in the faces of everyone. I guess that is just not me.

Earlier that morning they had the Omikoshi, which is where all the elementary students carry a small shrine through the streets to the main shrine. The kids were less than psyched, and the adults were doing all in their power to get them to start chanting, blowing whistles and such. To no avail. It wasn't even hot, but I guess the kids would rather be playing computer games. They were all following a truck that played festival music and the truck kept getting lost or going down dead end streets which I found kind of funny. The older men were kind of moaning a little about this. I started photographing sequences as the group passed, using the same lens just shooting at intervals. Then the kids gathered for sumo wrestling, a sport that is associated with Shintoism. I was told by a friend that before the war, Shinto was used as a way to garner nationalism among the Japanese people. In its most extreme form, the Kamikaze pilots were Shintoist. Also, fundamental Shinto believes that the Japanese are the divine people, and that their emperor comes from the Gods. Most people don't believe that any more, and now it has been translated into a religion that brings villages together at certain times of the year.

analysis
This was an interesting past few days. I kept looking for old and young working together and saw very little of it which is telling unto itself. At certain points during this week, I have sat down and contemplated the structure of this project. I am no longer thinking about the film. Color neg. can be fixed or converted into black and white. I am more concerned with learning how to think through this type of project. David called it a buffet that will be there for a long time and I need to select from the buffet and make a coherent essay. This is good advice. But as I look at the buffet, I am thinking about what will not be there for a long time. What I find myself thinking when I go into these situations is "how is this (whatever) being done?" and am trying to photograph interaction, though I find a lot of my images very quiet. I also try to stay on top of good light, though I am by no means a master of this. I make a point of staying aware of what catches my attention and move to that. For example, all the Shinto priests were changing clothes. I was fascinated by the pastel colors, the flowing gowns, and the funky hats. I started thinking about this on a different level. Changing clothes. What else does this say that can be factored into the essay? My next task is to sit down and construct some kind of paragraph-like outline whereby I can take a look at this project as an essay.

Monday, August 18, 1997 - Kawabe, Japan
I ran into a dragon fly while riding on my bike this morning coming back from the pepper farm. I spent Sunday photographing one of the few remaining full-time farmers in this area. The family consists of a grandmother, grandfather who is in the hospital, three kids, mom and dad. They have 17 cows and six houses of peppers which combines to bring in about $70,000 a year on a good year. Last year wasn't a good year though and I think he only made half of this. The kids aren't into farming. The father and the mother are the ones that hold it all together. The grandmother does the housework because everyone else is so busy or too self-absorbed. The youngest boy Mitsuoshi was the most fun. His buoyancy was quite wonderful. I took some photos of him chasing a butterfly and catching it, running around and fishing.

The rest of Monday was spent trying to find a scanner and trying to make some color contact sheets, but I ended up proofreading this design teacher's presentation that he was going to make in Finland at the end of the week.

Didn't find a scanner and I decided to bag making color contact sheets. Too much money, and negatives will work for the time being. I have started thinking about the final presentation. I am leaning more and more towards my original title Eclipsed by the Rising Sun: Rural Japan Struggles to Survive. This seems to embody a lot of what I have been shooting and place everything in a context of preserving rituals, children moving to the city so their parents have to go to nursing homes, teaching younger children about the older customs, older people trying to preserve their lives while younger ones try to soak in the Western culture (this is harder to photograph and I don't feel that I have a good grasp of this yet).

Plan for Tuesday.
Go over all my film, organize it by category and see what I have and what I need.