I was naked except for a green smock, flashing some leg and God-knows-what-else to two older women with shovels as I stepped into a small dirt hole in the center of a Japanese bath house. Lying on my back with my head on some bamboo, the women began laying hot dirt over my body in what was already a two-shirt kind of day.
I paid 1000 yen for the privilege. Continue reading
A recent conversation with a friend has unearthed a common problem when it comes to music fans in Japan: J-Pop has drowned out everything remotely cool about this country’s music scene, and it’s hard to find stuff that isn’t AKB48.
To help with that problem, I’m going to semi-regularly post videos from Japanese musicians who made, or are making stuff, as an alternative to standard J-Pop fare.
The first act on the dub plate: The Pizzicato Five, leaders of Japan’s Shibuya-Kei music scene of the early-to-late 1990s. Continue reading
This month marked my first year in Japan: My Japanniversary.
My first year as an expatriate felt a lot like a bad prom date. I was incompetent, needy, never quite sure where to put my hands.
Hey! I’ve just finished a two-week jaunt on an international scale – including a hike up Mt. Aso, (pictured above) – so here’s some blog housekeeping.
1. The Bridges podcast, which features a different J-blogger every week, turned his smooth voice to cover This Japanese Life. If you’re a regular reader of this site and want to dive into more Japanese blogs, I highly recommend starting with his podcasts.
2. I participated in my first Japan Blog Matsuri over at NihongoUp. The topic this month is drinks in Japan. Again, if you’re looking for more Japanese blogs, there’s another great place to start.
3. Finally, if you haven’t already, please consider following This Japanese Life over at its Facebook page.
There’ll be a new post on Wednesday, right on schedule. See you then.
There’s an old Buddhist story about a monk named Mahamaudgalyayana – let’s call him Mokuren, for short – who was doing alright, as monks go, and had finally developed the skill of peering into the world of the dead. Continue reading
If you don’t play a sport, you’ve run out of possible conversations with about 90 percent of Japanese men. So I started lying: “I’m a bowler.”
At first it was a genius move. I would never be asked to talk about the careers of obscure Japanese baseball players. I wouldn’t have to explain the rules of “American Football.” I’d just say I bowled.
Talk to one person in an office as a new foreigner and watch what happens. My Japanese persona was quickly settled: I was a very passionate bowler.
This Japanese Life. 