The Straits Times Blogs - Kwan Weng Kin

An open secret

2009-09-08T08:23:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin finds a sympathetic ear in not-so-nasty Ni-chome entertainment district.

IN TOKYO

APART from the two fortyish women in our group, the rest of the customers were all men, young and old and in various shapes and sizes.

It was Providence that brought me to this "penthouse" bar one recent Sunday night.

A couple of guys – friends of friends – had joined us at the tail-end of a late dinner in Roppongi. After dinner, one of the guys suggested that we all head for "Ni-chome" for a drink.

When the name "Ni-chome" is mentioned in Tokyo among some circles, it can only mean one place – the small enclave on the fringe of the boisterous Shinjuku district that has long been a haven for the gay community, and also increasingly so for straight people looking for some good, clean fun.

"I know just the right place," our self-styled guide said. "It's quiet and the guy who runs it is an ardent movie fan."

He was true to his words.

The bar, perched on the top floor of a nondescript apartment building tucked away in a narrow street, was dimly lit, but not overly so.

The air inside smelt clean as smoking is only permitted on the patio. Some discreetly placed images and literature are the only tell-tale signs that we were in the heart of Ni-chome. Otherwise, the bar could not have been more inviting.

At such establishments, it is perhaps always best to tag along with someone who is a regular as the reception is bound to be better.

Mr Kishida, the boss behind the counter, greeted us as if we were old friends.

Sometime during the night, he told us he had previously worked in the film industry and still watches over 250 movies a year.

This is the guy to ask, I thought to myself, if ever I wanted to do an inside piece on the Japanese film business and its denizens.

Two hours, lots of good conversation and a few drinks later, we were back at ground level, looking for taxis.

A long line of young men were waiting patiently at the entrance to a subterranean café across the road.

"They have very good live performances there," our self-styled guide offered after checking out the queue. "Unfortunately, it looks pretty crowded tonight."

By day, Ni-chome is almost like every other entertainment quarter in Tokyo. By night, however, the place takes on an entirely different character.

About 20 years ago, it had a reputation for being rather dangerous.

"In those days, I didn't dare to walk through Ni-chome on my own," a Japanese friend told me afterwards. "Now, it's so different."

In Ni-chome, besides the usual variety, there are also bars and eateries catering to all manner of sexual tastes and proclivities. Stumble into one that is not quite to one's liking – perhaps gender-wise or age-wise – and it is best to make a quick but polite exit.

Some places, I hear, are as tiny as a bedroom, all the better, I suppose, for the customers to get acquainted with each other!

"Homosexuality has long been a feature of Japanese society," my friend explained. "I won't say that gays suffer no discrimination in Japan, but we Japanese are mostly pretty understanding."

But don't expect to find only men in Ni-chome. In recent years, the place has become a favourite with many straight women as well.

At Ni-chome, both men and women can always find a sympathetic ear from the bartenders who, as in the case of our movie buff Kishida, are generally very good conversationalists as well.

"I enjoy going to Ni-chome several times a year, but not every night," said my friend. "But I'm straight, of course," he added for good measure.

But it is not hard to understand why some people would enjoy being in Ni-chome every night.

For them, the district is an oasis where one can be pretty sure that the people sharing the same space as oneself either have similar interests or harbour no prejudices.

I wonder when Providence will bring me back there again. Maybe next time, I should check it out with my friend.

Whatever will they think of next?

2009-06-18T22:15:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin says Japan’s stand-up comics have become a powerful force.

IN TOKYO

LEARNING the art of communication from stand-up comics? It could only happen in Japan.

To be sure, stand-up comics have become a powerful force in Japan over the years. Starting with the "manzai" (stand-up comedy) boom of the 1980s, Japanese stand-up comics have grown to become prominent fixtures in the country's cultural and even political life.

Stand-up comics seem to be everywhere these days. They not only perform their well-rehearsed routines in purpose-built theatres in Osaka and Tokyo, but they also populate variety shows as well as drama programmes on television.

Some comedians have even moved into the political arena, serving in local assemblies as well as the national parliament.

It seems only a matter of time now before one will even appear in a Cabinet line-up.

Yoshimoto Kogyo, an Osaka-based firm blessed with a huge stable of stand-up comedians and considerable marketing know-how, has been largely responsible for making "manzai" a staple of Japanese entertainment.

Manzai has its roots in the Osaka area. The typical manzai team consists of two performers, one in the role of "boke" or funny guy, and the other in the role of "tsukkomi" or straight guy. They trade barbs and jokes at bullet-train speed in the Osaka dialect.

To understand why manzai is so popular, I once spent some time in the early 1990s studying the basics of the Osaka dialect in order to grasp what these stand-up comics were saying. Suffice it to say, that I am now an ardent fan of manzai.

Aspiring manzai teams are made to perform live in small theatres run by Yoshimoto, where their performances are ranked according to how many votes they get from the audience.

The topmost-ranked performers graduate to television shows or the Nanba Grand Kagetsu Hall in Osaka, also run by Yoshimoto, where a slate of the company’s most popular comedians perform throughout the day to packed audiences.

The manzai boom of the 1980s was sparked after the traditional art form was embraced wholeheartedly by national television.

One of the most popular manzai teams in the 1980s and 1990s was Downtown, whose caustic humour and risqué jokes were lapped up by young Japanese.

In the mid-1990s, Yoshimoto moved aggressively into Tokyo, opening small theatres in the Ginza and Shibuya districts for manzai performances. But they were closed after a few years due to lack of audience.

In 2001, Yoshimoto’s decision to open a theatre in a building right above Tokyo’s crowded Shinjuku Station proved to be a winning one. Fanned by a second manzai boom on television, young Japanese flocked to Yoshimoto’s new theatre.

To date, Yoshimoto has four theatres in Tokyo. It is also a sign that the erstwhile allergy in the capital towards the Osaka dialect has largely receded.

It should be noted that Tokyo too has produced some notable comedians, though they are considerably outnumbered by their Osaka rivals.

Noted film director Takeshi Kitano is also well known to the Japanese as Beat Takeshi, the name he used when he was part of a comedy duo.

At present, the most successful Tokyo comedy pair is undoubtedly Bakusho Mondai, who has proved equally adept at rapid-fire comedy and also at interviewing academics for public television or debating serious social issues on the tube with real lawmakers.

About three years ago, Yoshimoto embarked on a new venture – conducting manzai classes for people interested in learning more about the art form.

Yoshimoto also went on to develop classes for companies and educational institutions, using manzai to help people to learn how to communicate or to speak in front of others.

Students at these classes are paired off and given a rough script to work with. After they have fleshed out their scripts, they are given one minute each to try to get as many laughs as possible from the rest of the class. Communication skills are discussed during the post-mortem session led by a professional manzai team and a senior Yoshimoto writer.

In June, Yoshimoto conducted one of these classes for some 100 young bureaucrats at the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism.

With the public increasingly critical of the bureaucracy for mismanaging the national pension system among other failures, and for wasting taxpayers' money, manzai skills seem to be the last thing that bureaucrats need to acquire at this moment.

Whatever will bureaucrats think of next?

Tsujii’s superhuman victory

2009-06-08T22:30:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin is brought to tears by the Japanese pianist.

IN TOKYO

I ALMOST cried when I heard the news. Japanese pianists have won major piano competitions before. But Nobuyuki Tsujii, 20, easily outshines them all.

Blind from birth, Tsujii became the first Asian to win the prestigious Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, the results of which were announced on the competition’s last day on Sunday evening.

The gruelling 17-day-long Van Cliburn, held once every four years in Fort Worth, Texas, is recognized as one of the four most important piano competitions in the world.

The other three are the Leeds (held in Leeds, England), Tchaikovsky (held in Moscow, Russia) and the Chopin (held in Warsaw, Poland).

Tsuji shared the highest honours at the Van Cliburn with 19-year-old Zhang Haochen from China, who is another pianist to watch.

I have in fact been a fan of Tsujii ever since I first saw him on a rare two-hour television documentary five years ago when he was still a teenager in shorts.

I am not generally one to weep in front of the television screen, but I remember tearing up uncontrollably towards the end of the programme when Tsuji visited a school for the blind, at his own request, where he gave a moving rendition of a piano piece for the benefit of the students.

Tsujii, who began studying the piano seriously at the age of four, is currently a third-year student at the Ueno Gakuen College of Music in Tokyo.

Although some piano scores are available in Braille, he learns a new piece strictly by listening to live or recorded versions of the work.

It is human to be moved just by the fact that Tsujii is a musician with a disability. But it is what he has to say through his music that really brings tears to one’s eyes.

For the entire duration of the Van Cliburn competition, Tsujii stayed at the residence of John and Carol Davidson, playing Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt and Debussy on the family grand piano after breakfast each morning.

Mrs Davidson told The Dallas Morning News: “I cry a lot when I hear him play. And when I'm not crying, I feel goose bumps."

It is not surprising that many people have wondered if Tsuji’s blindness worked in his favour, possibly drawing sympathy from the judges at the competition.

But one of the judges, Dr Yoheved Kaplinsky, told the Fort Worth Star-Telegram newspaper that blindness was not an issue.

Said Dr Kaplinsky, who heads the piano department at the famous Juilliard School in New York: “He won based on his playing. We were instructed very clearly to judge him exactly the way we judged everybody else. He himself requested he be judged like everybody else."

Audiences at the competition were reportedly touched to see Tsujii being led out on to the stage by his mother for his solo performances, and by conductor James Conlon for his concerto performances in the final round.

Tsujii reportedly also endeared himself easily to his audience with his big smiles.

It is indeed hard not to like Tsujii, even when he is away from the keyboard.

He told an interviewer that meeting legendary R&B singer Stevie Wonder, who is also blind from birth, “was the happiest moment of my life”.

But winning at the Cliburn “is now the happiest moment”, he added.

Once Tsujii starts playing, one quickly forgets that this incredible pianist cannot see, enabling the listener to concentrate fully on the music.

His performance of Chopin’s first piano concerto in the finals is an outstanding example of his music-making.

But do judge for yourself, for there is nothing more subjective than music. The performances of all the contestants can be viewed at the competition's website.

Drug wars and the Internet

2009-06-01T22:30:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin on changes to Japan’s over-the-counter medicine sales.

IN TOKYO

JAPAN'S convenience stores became more convenient on Monday.

They are now allowed to sell many types of common over-the-counter (OTC) medicines, such as cold tablets and pain-killers.

This new service is truly a godsend especially for people who need to buy such medicines in a hurry during late-night hours when regular pharmacies are mostly closed.

But not all the seven or so conveniences stores within easy reach of my office will start such sales immediately.

The latest revision in the pharmaceutical retail law stipulates that stores that do so must station sales clerks who are qualified to handle non-prescription medicines and that these clerks must be registered with the local government.

Previously, any convenience store that wanted to sell medicines had to have a qualified pharmacist on hand to advise consumers on such purchases. Little wonder that few convenience stores bothered to offer such products.

But not everyone is happy with the latest drug market deregulation, which by the way, also permits supermarkets and discount retailers the right to sell non-prescription drugs.

For a start, regular pharmacies are rightly worried that their sales will go down given the stiffer competition.

Besides, supermarket giants are expected to spark off a price war as they will lower the prices of OTC medicines by 10-20 per cent in an attempt to beat the convenience stores.

So how are pharmacies fighting back?

The nation's largest pharmacy chain MatsumotoKiyoshi, which has some 650 outlets around the country, plans to increase the number of 24-hour outlets. Other pharmacy chains are considering extending store hours.

Despite the increase in the total number of shops selling OTC medicines, drug manufacturers, however, expect their profits to be trimmed.

Their promotional costs are expected to go up as they have to repackage many of their products for convenience stores.

They figure that folks who patronise convenience stores are likely to be single and therefore will prefer smaller packages of everything that they buy.

But while someone like me living in the big city will appreciate the new ease of buying non-prescription medicines, the revision in the law has left two kinds of consumers out in the cold.

The first are those who have until now been getting their medicinal supplies through the Internet or traditional mail order. From today, such companies will only be able to offer "safe" supplements such as vitamins over cyberspace.

People who have been using the Internet to buy traditional Chinese medicines or herbal products, which are normally not stocked by pharmacies, can now no longer do so.

The government's argument is that there should be face-to-face communication between buyer and seller to ensure that the right medicine is offered and that any side effects are properly explained to the consumer.

Internet firms claim however that they can use the phone or other means to ensure that such information is relayed to the buyer.

The second category of people inconvenienced by the law are those who live in remote places or small islands where there are no convenience stores, let alone pharmacies. They need to get their medicines online.

Acknowledging that it has not resolved these issues properly, the government has decided to grant a two-year reprieve to allow people to buy medicines through the Internet (or through mail order companies) if they had been doing so in the past.

Hopefully, a satisfactory compromise solution will be found before the two years are up.

An everyday affair

2009-05-01T07:00:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin says wearing masks is a year-round thing in Japan.

IN TOKYO

MANY people tend to associate the wearing of face masks with medical personnel working in operating theatres in a hospital.

Or when there is a major public health crisis, such as in the case of the recent outbreak of a new strain of flu in Mexico.

But in Japan, wearing face masks is a year-round thing and no one pays any attention to a masked person.

Recently, some experts in Britain reportedly pooh-poohed the use of face masks to guard against the new flu virus, saying that the masks become porous to the virus when they turn moist after several hours of use.

But the effectiveness of wearing masks has never been an issue in Japan.

To prevent the spread of germs, many Japanese wear a mask when they have a cold or a bad cough out of courtesy to fellow travellers in the nation's jam-packed trains, to passers-by on the crowded streets, and to their colleagues at work.

A mask also helps to keep the nose warm during the cold winter months.

The wearing of masks is particularly common during the spring, when strong winds from the mountains bring pollen to the cities, causing distress to people who suffer from hay fever.

A mask ensures that the wearer does not breathe in the pollen, which causes tearing, a runny nose and general discomfort.

Many foreigners on their first visit to Japan are said to have been unnerved at the sight of Japanese sporting white masks on the streets – until they learn that wearing masks is common and very much part of the social etiquette in this country.

The masks themselves have undergone a transformation in recent years.

The traditional lie-flat variety made of cloth tends to become uncomfortably warm after some use and also plays havoc with a woman's make-up.

In recent years, masks made of a stiff synthetic material that leaves a small gap between the mask and the face have been gaining in popularity, particularly among women fearing for their make-up.

In general of course, the rationale for choosing these more expensive masks is that they offer better protection against pollen and germs than the traditional ones made of soft white cloth.

As part of the government’s action plan to deal with a pandemic, the authorities have prepared millions of face masks for distribution to schools and hospitals in the event of a major outbreak of flu.

But despite the announcement of a suspected case of swine flu in Japan on April 30, and the likelihood that there may be more, there has been no noticeable increase in the use of face masks on the streets.

The Japanese in general seem to have heeded the call by the authorities to stay calm and not over-react.

Incidentally, neither have the Japanese given up eating pork, as the authorities have repeatedly assured the people that heating kills the flu virus.

At my neighbourhood "tonkatsu" restaurant, which features breaded pork cutlet on its menu, the queue at lunch time is just as long as always.

Are you a 'grass-eating' male?

2009-04-24T05:00:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin looks at the grass- and meat-eaters in Japan as romance dims.

In Tokyo

ECONOMISTS and population experts alike have reason to lament the rise of a new generation of young Japanese who are seemingly not terribly interested in love and marriage.

The dating rituals of such Japanese couples seem to lack the sparkle that one normally associates with young people in love.

A recent survey by the Research institute of Industry and Regional Economy, which is under the umbrella of the influential business daily Nikkei, found that over 60 per cent of Japanese below 30 years of age spent most of their dates at shopping centres and outlet malls, or in the homes of their boyfriend or girlfriend.

Many of these young men and women also go on dates wearing just the sort of clothes they would wear every day – stuff likely to have been purchased at one of the country’s ubiquitous low-cost casual outfitters.

For them, going on a special dinner date or a long drive into the countryside in a flashy automobile is also no longer considered the cool thing to do.

These young Japanese would rather just have a simple meal at home, one cooked in the microwave, and watch rented DVDs together.

Such behaviour alarms Japanese businesses.

If young Japanese couples increasingly stay away from fancy restaurants, do not buy clothes to impress their dates, give each other fewer presents, and give cinemas a miss, it means a major setback for personal consumption which in Japan is traditionally fuelled by younger consumers.

Other surveys have found that fewer young Japanese these days crave to have their own cars, a fact that spells trouble for Japanese carmakers.

The country’s birth rate – already a major headache for national planners – will also suffer.

If the dating behaviour of young Japanese is not much different that that of married couples, singles are likely to see little merit or attraction in taking that final plunge.

A decrease in marriages simply means that fewer babies will be born in Japan.

Unlike many European countries where increasingly babies are being born out of wedlock, most Japanese babies today are still being born only to wedded couples.

A lot of the blame for the decrease in the number of marriages in Japan has been put on the modern Japanese male.
In 2006, columnist Maki Fukasawa coined the moniker “grass-eating male” (“soushokudanshi”), in a series of articles about marketing products to men under-35, to describe today's young Japanese male.

“Grass-eaters”, or herbivorous males, will happily graze alongside their female companions and are not given to forming deeper relationships. In contrast, “meat-eaters”, or carnivorous males, home in on their prey.

The term “grass-eating male” has gained wide usage in Japan during the past year, as a result of which the definition of what constitutes a “grass-eating male” has also grown.

It is generally agreed that “grass-eaters” do not see women as sex objects; they are gentle in their relationship with the fair sex; they prefer to be indoors rather than outdoors; and they tend to be delicate by nature.

“Grass-eaters” are also said to be not terribly positive in their attitude towards love or sex, and are more interested in fashion or their own hobbies rather than falling in love.

Moreover, the “grass-eating male” is likely to have a sweet tooth and an ardent interest in food.

It is not unreasonable to suppose that the “grass-eating male” may not be confined to Japanese society.

“Grass-eating males” are also likely to exist in other modern societies where equality between the sexes is regarded as a matter of course.

So ladies, if your boyfriend exhibits some of the traits described above such as being gentle and a foodie, he may well be one of Ms Maki’s “grass-eaters”.

Quick, let me on!

2009-04-15T06:52:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin gets excited about a new ride at Tokyo Disneyland.

IN TOKYO

IT WAS just 9 o'clock in the morning at Tokyo Disneyland (TDL), and already there was a five-hour wait to get into the theme park’s latest attraction - Monsters, Inc Ride and Go Seek.

During the day, the wait stretched at one point to almost five hours and 30 minutes.

It will take a great deal to convince me that I should queue for nearly six hours to get on a four-minute ride. But thousands of people to TDL obviously do not need much persuading for the chance to be among the first to experience the new ride, and so to gain valuable bragging rights.

The attraction, which opened on Wednesday, is in fact TDLs first new ride in five years. The last one, by the way, was Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters.

The new Monsters Inc ride opened on Wednesday.
SOURCE: AFP

The new ride is of course based on the Monsters, Inc movie from Pixar Animation Studios. Mike, Sulley and their monster friends from the movie are entertaining the human girl Boo with a game of hide-and-go-seek.

Guests get to participate in the game by boarding the Security Tram into Monster City to spot the monsters.

The new ride cost Oriental Land, the company that operates TDL, a whopping 10 billion yen to build. But the overwhelming opening-day queues have no doubt convinced the company that it was money well spent.

Incidentally, Oriental Land is one of the few companies in Japan that are doing ridiculously well right now despite the deepening recession, thanks to the fact that many Japanese are opting for cheaper domestic holidays instead of taking trips to overseas destinations.

What is more, TDL celebrates the 25th anniversary of its opening this year and visitors to the theme park are being treated to special events.

I may be accused by some of attempting to put in a plug for TDL. But really, it doesn't need my help at all.

TDL is the number one theme park in Japan and a must-visit for many overseas visitors too.

Perhaps news about a five-hour wait, even on a weekday, might put some people off instead. But Disneyland diehards will probably tell you that the queuing is all part of the fun.

And if everyone's waiting patiently for the newest ride, you can bet that the older attractions will have shorter lines and therefore be much easier to get into.

The crowd enjoys the launch of the new Monsters Inc ride at Tokyo Disneyland.
SOURCE: AFP

Japanese TV shows hit by slump

2009-04-01T06:40:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin watches as Japanese presenters cry on the tube.

In Tokyo

LAST Friday, when a popular two-hour mid-day TV show ended its 20-year run, there was a lot of mandatory tearing and sobbing by the show’s regulars as they each made their mini-farewell speeches.

One or two even bawled uncontrollably.

Sentimentality aside, there is indeed quite a lot to cry about these days as far as Japanese television shows are concerned.

The decision by the network concerned to cancel that particular show had no doubt been made for purely economic reasons.

Hit by a huge drop in advertising revenue as a result of the deepening recession, the network felt it could no longer afford to pay the fee demanded by the show’s well-known presenter Monta Mino.

From this week, Mino’s slot was taken over by a younger and cheaper presenter.

Major programming changes at all of Tokyo’s privately-owned TV networks this month reflect the huge cost-cutting that is taken place all round.

One-hour drama slots during the 7pm to 10 pm Golden Time on weekday evenings have typically been slashed from three to two slots, with the vacant air time filled by live variety shows.

Dramas are understandably expensive to make, especially if they feature popular actors.

Live variety shows, many of them in quiz formats, are cheap by comparison especially if they feature budding actors and comedians who are in no position to demand huge fees.

To minimize operating expenses, some networks have even gone as far as buying cheaper lunch boxes for staff and entertainers, and even reducing the lighting on sets.

Viewers also have to put up with more live news shows and talk shows.

When shows like these go on for as long as four hours, however, one can be pretty sure that much of it is going to be a big yawn.

And these are just the traditional earth channels.

On satellite channels, where viewership has always been lower, the networks have enthusiastically embraced one- to two-hour long travelogue shows to fill up their air time.

In the past, such shows would often feature a celebrity or two, who act as guides for the viewer.

To save money, the latest travelogue shows dispense with the use of celebrities altogether.

Many of these shows consequently look more like extended promotional material for tour agencies.

Over the past year or so, the quality of television programming on private networks have noticeably fallen.

This is as much due to gradual cost-cutting as it is due to the unhealthy trend by the networks to want to turn anything – even hard political news - into entertainment by trivializing the substance.

One wonders if this state of affairs will be reversed when the economy gets back into shape.

Not fit to be a hero?

2009-03-27T09:48:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin prefers the courtesy of Hara over the flash of Ichiro.

IN TOKYO

HAD it not been for the fine performance of team captain and Major Leaguer Ichiro Suzuki, Japan would arguably not have beaten South Korea in the recent World Baseball Classic (WBC) final in Los Angeles for the second time running.

But Ichiro's attitude left me cold.

During the tournament, Japan lost to South Korea twice.

On one of those occasions, Ichiro – as he is known professionally – told reporters after the game that he was “angry” and said so with the look of contempt written all over his face.

The second time that Japan lost, Ichiro refused even to talk to reporters, leaving the baseball park in a huff.

Three years ago at the first WBC, when Japan lost to South Korea on the way to the finals, Ichiro swore that Japan would beat the South Koreans so badly in the finals that the Koreans would feel powerless against Japan for the next 30 years.

Ichiro made no direct reference to South Korea in his remark, but it was clear, from the look of anger and disdain on his face, which country he meant.

It is said that the nationalistic South Korean media pulled no punches when it came to stories about Ichiro and the Japanese baseball team.

But that is no license for Ichiro’s outbursts and hostility.

Many Japanese are no doubt aware of Ichiro’s personality shortcomings. But Japanese commentators also believe it would not be politically correct to tick him off in public, given the euphoria surrounding the Japanese victory.

So there has been nothing but high praise for Ichiro.

To be fair, the Japanese media has not attempted to censor Ichiro’s self-centred comments, but has taken the policy of letting his remarks do their own talking.

There is no argument that Ichiro was the man of the moment. But in my book, he is certainly not the hero of the WBC.

That honour goes to Tatsunori Hara, the 50-year-old manager of the Japanese WBC team who had been given little chance of bringing home the trophy.

The dashing Hara was one of Japan’s most popular baseball players in his playing days and is now manager of the Yomiuri Giants, Japan’s most popular team.

Hara is always diplomatic when he speaks to the press and I cannot remember ever seeing so much as a scowl flash across his face throughout his long career.

If the Japanese need a hero and a good role model, Hara’s the man, not Ichiro.

Predicting the sakura blossoms

2009-03-17T06:21:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin explains why cherry blossoms signify so much in Japan.

IN TOKYO

IT IS probably much easier to predict whether it is going to be rain or shine than when the sakura (cherry blossom) tree at the neighbourhood park begins to bloom each year.

But that doesn’t deter Japan’s two major sakura forecasters – the government Meteorological Agency and the private-sector Weathernews weather forecasting company – from trying.

As they each employ slightly different approaches to telling when the blooms will arrive, all eyes this year are on which method is better – the fully automated method of the Met Agency or the labour-intensive one employed by Weathernews.

Here’s how each of them works.

To cut manpower costs, the Met Agency has automated all its weather data collection centres throughout the country. Meteorological and sakura flowering data for the past 30 years are fed into a computer, which coughs out the results. The Met Agency boasts that its approach requires no human involvement!

Weathernews not only uses historical weather and flowering data but also relies on some 10,000 human monitors throughout the length and breadth of Japan to send in information about the state of the buds on sakura trees in their neighbourhoods.

According to the latest predictions, the Met Agency says the sakura will start blooming in Tokyo on March 24th, whereas Weathernews says it will be March 25th - a difference of one day.

For Osaka, it’s March 27th according to the Met Agency, but March 28th according to Weathernews.

In their previous forecasts announced in early March, the two parties had differed by as much as six days in the case of Osaka!

The average Japanese wants to know when the sakura will bloom so that they can plan trips around the country to the best places to view the blossoms - such as Yoshino in Nara prefecture - or to schedule hanami (flower-viewing) parties with friends and colleagues in the neighbourhood park.

But as to be expected, Nature has a mind of its own.

Sakura trees more or less know they should bloom in spring, but the actual date varies greatly between trees. I used to have a small sakura tree outside my window that blooms in early March!

As a result, the sakura trees in Tokyo are invariably already in various degrees of blooming by the time the Met Agency declares that the sakura is finally here!

Sakura trees more or less know they should bloom in spring, but the actual date varies greatly between trees. I used to have a small sakura tree outside my window that blooms in early March!

As a result, the sakura trees in Tokyo are invariably already in various degrees of blooming by the time the Met Agency declares that the sakura is finally here!

The time and energy expended annually on sakura forecasting do not go unappreciated for cherry blossoms mean a great deal to the Japanese.

Spring marks important milestones in the life of every Japanese. For young people, it is the graduation season as well as the start of a new academic year at school or university.

Spring is also the season when new college graduates start their first jobs, which for many also means having to live away from home for the first time in their lives.

Spring is also a time when one makes new friends and bids farewell to the old.

For Japanese in their late 50s, spring is the season when they retire from their companies and start a “second life”.

In all these different situations, the sakura is invariably a part of the scenery as the flowers bloom in great profusion throughout the land – except in the northern parts of Japan whether they arrive only several weeks later.

The word “sakura” and the image of the pale pink blossoms therefore never fail to trigger a deep sense of nostalgia in the Japanese people.

Many of them harbour particularly vivid memories of the sakura trees in their school playgrounds.

Unfortunately, the cherry blossom season does not last long. The blooms disappear after a mere 7 to 10 days.

Surprisingly, despite the annual fuss over the arrival of the sakura, most Japanese – according to a survey by Weathernews - prefer the sight of cherry blossom petals falling to the ground – which resembles a mini snowstorm when viewed from a distance – than the sight of the flowers in full bloom.

The sense of melancholy that sets in when the cherry blossoms shrivel and drop off seems to suit the Japanese psyche far better than the feelings of light-heartedness and hope that the full blooms bring.

For me, the sakura holds a special meaning as they usually bloom around the time of my birthday.

Believe me, there is no better birthday present.

The other side of Shinjuku

2009-03-13T22:15:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin says a Singapore-run hotel is muscling its way into Shinjuku.

IN TOKYO

A SINGAPORE-RUN hotel cum service apartment has just muscled its way into Tokyo’s garish Shinjuku district.

Shinjuku is a favourite place for shopping and entertainment not only with the Japanese but also with foreigners, and Singaporeans are no exception.

Hotels in the area are understandably popular with tourists but convenience usually does not come cheap.

After a colleague raved about her stay at one little-known (to the average Singaporean) budget hotel in one of her articles, the establishment received a flood of bookings from Singapore travellers.

Kadoya Hotel, as it is called, is located just west of Shinjuku Station, not far from the well-known Yodobashi Camera store, which by the way sells a whole lot of electronic and other products at a discount, besides cameras.

Earlier this month, on the other side of Shinjuku, the Singapore-based Ascott Group opened its first Citadines service apartment in Japan.

Since Citadines, a brand that is familiar to Europeans, has a hotel licence, it is able to offer one-night stays as well.

But, to be honest, the Citadines “aparthotel” – short for “apartment-hotel” and the usual term for referring to such establishments in Europe – is located more than a little distance from Shinjuku’s most prominent retail establishments such as Isetan, Marui and the ever-popular Muji store.

The nearest station to the Citadines is not the main Shinjuku Station itself, but a subway station called Shinjuku Gyoen Mae.

In fact, the name is a give-away to one of the biggest draws in the area – the sprawling Shinjuku Imperial Gardens.

By the end of this month, the Gardens will be teeming with people as it is one of Tokyo’s most famous spots for viewing the delicate “someyoshino” cherry blossoms, or “sakura”.

The area around the Citadines, while usually not as busy as in the main Shinjuku district, is nevertheless dotted with many interesting restaurants and cafes.

It is also close to one well-known enclave – known colloquially to the locals as “Ni-chome” – that is home to many small bars and eateries that have a reputation for catering to people of all types of persuasions.

Even the hotels near the enclave are of a unique character.

A female acquaintance from Singapore once checked herself into a hotel near Ni-chome and was somewhat astonished to discover that she was the only female there!

Just as an aside, “Shinjuku” once lent its name to a 1993 Japanese movie, “Nemuranai Machi: Shinjuku Same”. In English, this means “The City That Never Sleeps: Shinjuku Shark”.

Guess who directed the movie? None other than Yojiro Takita, who directed Departures, the movie that recently won an Oscar for best foreign film.

The 1993 movie is about a detective by the name of Same who sets out to solve a murder involving innocent civilians.

But not to worry. Shinjuku is as safe as can be, though it is perhaps better to avoid the seedier-looking quarters in the back streets after midnight, especially if you are travelling alone.

Rice never tasted this good!

2009-03-03T08:34:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin waxes lyrical on the wonders of his new rice cooker.

IN TOKYO

I MUST confess to eating too much lately. To be more precise, I have been helping myself to a second bowl of rice at most meals since buying a new rice cooker.

No, I have not been eating more food, just more rice – and white rice at that!

It all started about two weekends ago when I decided it was time to retire our rice cooker of 10 years. Getting a new one however turned out to be quite a task.

There is a whole galaxy of models to choose from, from cheap, no-frills cookers all the way to high-end affairs that cost much more than a laptop computer.

Each manufacturer has its own concept of what the ideal rice should taste like and has gone about it in their own way to realise that ideal.

After wading through the catalogues and not making much sense out of the technical mumbo-jumbo, I finally decided the easiest way was to choose a model that would look nice in the kitchen and basically hope for the best. After all, I thought, how wrong can you go with a rice cooker.

So I picked out one in the 20,000 – 30,000 yen range, which the sales staff assured us was what the average Japanese consumer pays for these days.

Well, if the new cooker lasts me for another 10 years, it will be a good enough investment, I thought.

At dinner that night, the rice was the main attraction, as far as I was concerned.

My first impression was that the rice prepared in the new cooker was slightly firmer than what I was used to and that each grain was very well cooked, as the catalogue had promised. Japanese short-grain rice can’t get any better than this. Not a bad buy, I thought to myself.

The next morning, the leftover rice in the cooker was reheated at the push of a button. In the past, such leftover rice always tasted slightly dried out and tough.

But this time – surprise, surprise - the reheated rice tasted almost as if it was freshly cooked, no hint of having dried out at all.

After breakfast, there was still some leftover rice, so it was wrapped in cling wrap and put in the freezer.

A few days later, I popped the frozen rice into the microwave and about 4 minutes later, I had a bowl of steaming white rice before me. To my surprise, the rice again tasted as if it were freshly cooked. This was truly a revelation.

I am well aware that the Japanese are obsessed with making the perfect rice cooker. Not long ago, I interviewed a man who devoted his entire working life toward that end.

But he was involved chiefly in designing high-end cookers. I had not expected even average cookers to have improved so much.

This is no doubt a case of a product improving because consumers demanded quality.

The Japanese are probably the most fastidious rice-eating nation in the world.

In restaurants, a bowl of white rice is usually served on its own as the last course of a formal Japanese meal. In order not to mar the taste of the rice, the only accompaniments permitted are some pickles to refresh the palate between morsels of rice and a small bowl of soup.

In Japan, rice is not perceived merely as a foil to strongly-flavoured dishes, as tends to be case in other rice-eating cultures.

It is also not just the older generation of Japanese that waxes lyrical about the rice they eat. Even young Japanese turn instant gourmets when it comes to rice.

Surprisingly, despite the recession, rice-cookers are selling well in Japan and the consumption of rice has gone up.

One reason is that Japanese consumers turned to eating more rice after the escalation in the price of wheat worldwide drove up the domestic prices of pasta and bread.

The other reason is that many people are eating out less often in order to save money, and are more willing to invest in a new rice cooker.

Two weeks have passed and I still look forward to my bowl of white rice at each meal.

I am hoping to get over the euphoria pretty soon so that I can cut back to one bowl of rice per meal and not have to worry about my weight.

But unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to be happening any time soon!

From me to you? Maybe next year

2009-02-13T06:32:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin won’t be buying chocolates for his beloved.

IN TOKYO

THINGS have gone somewhat topsy turvy in Japan this year where Valentine's Day is concerned.

Previously, it was the unwritten rule that Japanese women buy chocolates for the men in their lives – ranging from their husbands to male colleagues at work, or even the managers of their condominiums.

But this year, a new buzzword has hit the country – "gyaku-choko", which means "reverse chocolate".

It was apparently an advertising campaign dreamt up by confectioners hoping to persuade Japanese men to summon up the courage to buy chocolates for the women in their lives instead.

After all, chocolate consumption has been steadily dropping in Japan since 2001 and confectioners are obviously anxious to reverse the trend.

In a poll conducted by Morinaga, one of Japan's largest confectionery companies, 70 per cent of male respondents said they would not mind buying chocolates for women.

Morinaga ran a TV ad campaign to promote its line of three products specially aimed at the male market for this year's Valentine's Day.

To underline the "gyaku-choko" theme in the campaign, Morinaga even made sure that the designs on the packaging for these three products were printed in reverse!

Meanwhile, department stores throughout Japan have been holding special Valentine Day events featuring luxury chocolates at inflated prices made by well known choclatiers, both domestic and foreign.

Figuring that most men might be too embarrassed to go and buy chocolates at such events, which are overwhelmingly women's affairs, one department store set up a chocolate booth next to its men's fashion corner.

But sales are reportedly are not as brisk as hoped for, which goes to show that you really can't trust what people say in surveys.

Japanese women, as usual, are having a great time this year snapping up boxes of yummy chocolate creations, not only as gifts but increasingly also as a reward for themselves, the current recession notwithstanding.

Right after Feb 14, unsold Valentine's Day chocolates are sharply discounted in supermarkets and convenience stores – a boon for the chocolate lover who is on a tight budget.

And if I do see unsold stacks of Morinaga’s "reverse design" chocolates, it will not be difficult to understand why.

I have no plans to buy chocolates to give away either!

Aso does it again!

2009-02-02T11:45:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin recounts Mr Taro Aso's first verbal slip-up outside Japan.

THERE were red faces among the official Japanese delegation at the recently-ended annual World Economic Forum held at the Swiss ski resort of Davos.

In a speech at the forum which he delivered in Japanese, Prime Minister Taro Aso mangled the pronunciation of three words, to the horror of his officials but to the delight of the Japanese media covering him.

The word "kiban" (which means "base") came out as "kihan". "Ketsuzen" (resolute) was turned into "kenzen" while "genchi" (local) was totally unrecognisable as Mr Aso declared it to be "kanka".

Mr Aso committed another faux pas when talking to the press, referring to ex-British premier Tony Blair as "Tony Brown", apparently mixing up the latter’s name with the present British leader Gordon Brown with whom Mr Aso met earlier in the day.

Source: AFP

Last year, Mr Aso was roundly criticised for mispronouncing many words in his remarks in parliament and in public, after which he took great care not to do so again.

His verbal slip-ups at Davos were his first for this year and also the first to be committed outside Japan.

Some reports suggested that the Japanese must have been fatigued, having to speak after a very long flight to the other side of the world. But one cheeky report said the Japanese leader probably felt he could lower his guard as he was speaking only to foreigners!

Mr Aso’s struggle with the Japanese language seems also to have infected some of his Cabinet members as well.

Last week, Finance Minister Shoichi Nakagawa made no less than 26 errors when delivering a policy speech in parliament on Jan 28. He was reading straight from a text.

The word "kachu" (controversy) came out as "uzuchu", and "sainyu" (revenue) became saishutsu" (expenditure) several times. Mr Nakagawa even got several figures wrong.

Upon learning about Mr Nakagawa’s verbal blunders, my immediate reaction was that perhaps the minister was under the influence again, as he was frequently reported in the past to be very fond of the bottle.

But officials said emphatically that the minister had a cold and was feeling unwell.

Nevertheless, Mr Nakagawa minister is now liable to come under attack by the opposition for the numerous errors in his delivery. He had failed to correct himself on the fly and his officials had later to request that the parliamentary record of his speech be cleaned up.

Incidentally, Mr Nakagawa is a graduate of the law department of Tokyo University, the nation’s most prestigious college, and often cited as a potential future prime minister.

Thanks to Mr Aso, and now maybe also to Mr Nakagawa, the Number One book on Japan’s best-sellers’ list is a tome dealing with Japanese words that are difficult to read.

"Kachu", which Mr Nakagawa mispronounced, is not listed in the book.

But perhaps I should get hold of the book soon, to avoid being caught flat-footed myself.

Farewell to the Kabuki-za

2009-01-28T13:07:00Z

Kwan Weng Kin gets nostalgic about an iconic piece of Japan's landscape.

IT IS always sad to see a familiar landmark disappear.

One in Tokyo that is about to go is the famous Kabuki-za theatre, located just off the high-fashion Ginza shopping district.

Kabuki is a highly-stylised form of dance drama where the performers – all of them male incidentally – wear elaborate make-up and traditional costumes.

The imposing Kabuki-za theatre, last rebuilt in 1950, is where the bulk of Kabuki performances are held in Tokyo. Although registered as a cultural asset and monument, concerns that the structure may not withstand a strong earthquake has prompted its operators, Shochiku, to have it torn down and rebuilt.

SOURCE: ONG SOR FERN

The construction is scheduled to take place some time after April 2010. To mark the closure of the venerable theatre, a series of "sayonara" (farewell) performances are being held.

It will be a long countdown as these farewell performances, which began this month, will be staged until April next year!

The new theatre, and an adjoining towering office complex, will take three years to be completed. The new Kabuki-za theatre will not be an exact replica of the existing one but will sport a more modern look while preserving much of the traditional atmosphere. In contrast to the current theatre, the new one will have elevators and wider aisles thus making it friendlier to the elderly and the disabled.

Although many Kabuki fans, especially those who attend matinee performances, are elderly Japanese, Kabuki theatre has attracted a growing number of young female fans in recent years thanks to the emergence of a crop of younger actors.

Because young women have to work in the daytime, they tend to pack Kabuki performances in the evening. The most popular of today’s younger Kabuki actors are a dashing threesome – Ichikawa Ebizo, Onoe Kikunosuke and Onoe Shoroku. The latter two are distantly related.

Both Ebizo and Shoroku specialise in male roles, but Kikunosuke is also adept at playing female roles.All three men are sons of established performers as Kabuki remains a world where the main roles are mostly hereditary.

Also very popular with the ladies is Bando Tamasaburo, a veteran actor well known for his portrayal of the ideal Japanese woman. Any performance featuring Tamasaburo, who is an exponent of traditional Japanese dance, is a pleasure, even to someone watching Kabuki for the first time.

So hurry, don’t walk, to the Kabuki-za and be a part of history before the building comes under the wrecker’s ball next year.