Finding Pride in Cute Places (Reid Knight)

While it may sometimes be embarrassing to admit, one of my favorite things about Japanese pop culture is the cute characters it produces. This can be easily observed in my room at home, which is filled with stuffed toys, mostly of Japanese origin. In the past year or so, I have developed a new obsession with” Yuru Chara”, or mascot characters created to represent different cities in Japan. Although these characters are from individual regions, the most popular of these mascots have merchandise that is sold all over Japan! Currently, the most popular Yuru Chara is named Funnasyi; he is the unofficial mascot of Funabashi in Chiba prefecture, and is a sentient pear, since the area is apparently famous for its pears. Almost every store I have entered in Japan sells some sort of Funassyi product; I have seen collaborative memorabilia with Funassyi wearing Hello Kitty and Tamagotchi costumes, and when I went to a nearby festival, the stand selling chocolate-covered bananas had even made one to look like Funnasyi!

The banana in question, which I lovingly dubbed Funassyinana.

As the town I live in, Shiki, is small compared to many other places in Japan, I was not sure if they would have a mascot at all. I was happily proved wrong, however, on my first full day in Shiki, when I went to the district office to register as a resident. One of the first things I saw when I walked into the building was a large statue of a slightly alarmed-looking kappa, which I later found out was one of the THREE Shiki Yuru Chara!

Out of the three Shiki mascots, two are kappa, and one is a seal. The kappa I saw a statue of is named Kazasu-kun, while the other is named Kappi; I still have not learned the name of the seal, and am unsure if there is any significance to these creatures being chosen as the mascots. However, all three mascots are present in everyday life in Shiki; they can often be found on posters, as small keychains in the crane game machines at the department store, and every so often, the mascots will show up in the square of Shiki Station.

I was lucky enough to encounter Kappi during one of these times. Children and adults alike seemed entertained by his presence, and there was many a photo-op. Alongside the mascot was a table selling merchandise. Unlike the Funnasyi merchandise ever-present in stores, this merchandise seemed mostly handmade, which I assume is because of Shiki being such a small town. There were also a group of children that looked like they were in Boy Scout uniforms helping with the sales; I wasn’t able to ask, but maybe they were doing some sort of fundraiser with this merchandise.

Kappi posing for the camera.

Outside of just making money, I have seen the Yuru Chara being used as a public health initiative. One day, a machine showed up next to the ticket machines in Shiki Station; from what I can translate, this machine scans electronic pedometers and awards points for the amount of steps Shiki residents walk, which can then be redeemed for some sort of reward. Kazasu-kun is the face of this endeavor, and I was pleased to see the Yuru Chara being utilized in this way.

The Let's Walk! Kazasu-kun machine.

Whether it’s buying a kappa keychain or encouraging someone to walk a few extra steps, it’s clear that the Shiki mascots do hold an important place in the city. But do people truly identify and have regional pride for their respective Yuru Chara, or is it just another part of the nebulous “kawaii culture” often talked about in regards to Japan? I’m hoping to further research this question in the future, but for now I’ll enjoy my Kappi plushie that I could not resist buying at the merchandise stand.

Kappi sitting on top of a Funnasyi plush I purchased upon my arrival in Japan. It seems I have already amassed a small Yuru Chara collection.

Learning new Languages (in more ways than one) (Reid Knight)

When I decided to study abroad, I knew that I would want to join a club at my host institution. It can be difficult for me to branch out in social situations, so having a routine that allows me to get comfortable with a consistent group of people helps me feel more at home in new places. Unfortunately, I found out rather quickly that it can be difficult to access student-run clubs at Rikkyo as an exchange student. Much of the club information is out of date or entirely in Japanese, and although I am competent enough in Japanese to get by in everyday situations, certain clubs that I tried to correspond with over email about joining didn’t seem particularly welcoming to foreigners.

Eventually I decided to get over my anxieties and just show up at the club room of Tebukuro, the sign language club, during one of their meetings to see how I was received. As I consider Disability Studies to be my area of expertise and am always interested in learning more, I wanted to see how much Japanese Sign Language I could pick up while I was in Japan. The name Tebukuro is a play on words- the word by itself means glove in Japanese, but it can also be seen as being named for Te(手), meaning hand, the first character in the Japanese word for sign language(手話 - shuwa), and the bukuro in Ikebukuro, where Rikkyo is located.

I arrived at the classroom where Tebukuro’s meetings are held feeling pretty anxious, and I think that reflected in how I was treated by the club members. As the only non-Japanese person in the room, I don’t think the members of Tebukuro knew exactly what to do with me, especially since I came in with no knowledge of sign language while the rest of the club had already spent considerable time learning. Everybody was cordial with me and tried to inform me about what they were doing (in this case, preparing a sign-language performance of a song for the upcoming St. Paul’s Festival), but I still very much felt like an outsider.

Over the next few meetings, I got a bit more comfortable with the routine of the club. As the meetings occur during lunch hour, the beginning of each meeting is spent eating lunch. Then, we either spend the rest of the time rehearsing for the Festival or studying a set of vocab words given to us, then using these words in sample sentences. A club representative always demonstrates how to perform the movements, then the rest of the club follows; sometimes, the club representative will randomly call on club members to demonstrate a sign.

An example of an everyday sign language demonstration at Tebukuro.

While at first it felt like I was treated as a guest, I am slowly beginning to feel like an actual “member” of the club. I’m now included in the conversations that occur while we eat lunch, even if I have to struggle a bit to keep up. The other day, I was called upon to demonstrate a sign; even though I had no idea how to do so, it still felt good that I was being included in this routine. I’ve had a couple of people ask me if I will be a part of the performance at the Festival, and although I doubt I will be able to master the song in time, I was grateful to feel that these club members cared that I was there. All in all, I see these developments as very good signs for my future with the club (and yes, that pun was intended).

A section of the lyrics for the Festival performance. The song is called "Sign" by Mr. Children. The spoken lyrics are above each line, while the equivalent words for each sign are below.

Even though I had to wade through some awkward moments to get to this point, I’m glad that I took the chance showing up for the club meeting that day. I now have a group of Japanese students who share an interest with me to eat lunch with almost every day, and all I had to do was step out of my comfort zone a little bit. Through this experience, I learned that being immersed in a different culture is guaranteed to be challenging sometimes, and those challenges may make you want to not engage with your surroundings. However, by not engaging, everything will become even more challenging. You have nothing to lose by putting yourself out there, so take advantage of the time you have abroad and try new things!

The Sugamo Prison "Memorial" (Reid Knight)

Given the option between 3 clues for locations within Tokyo, I chose to hunt for the memorial stone for Sugamo Prison. I did so because I’ve always had an interest in how crime and justice are defined in different societies; I even took a class titled “Letters from Prison” as my First-Year Initiative course. Upon a preliminary Google search, I found out that I already knew the general location of the memorial. In fact, the former location of the prison was a building I had already been to multiple times: Sunshine 60 in Ikebukuro, a skyscraper which houses a mall complex on the first few floors (including the Mega Tokyo Pokémon Center, the primary reason why I can’t stop going back).

A view of Sunshine 60 from where the Sugamo Prison memorial is located. Where is that exactly? Read on to find out... 

However, even though I had been to this area more than any other besides where my dorm is, I had not recalled seeing anything resembling a memorial before. Finding the exact location of the memorial required a bit more research, and along the way I gained some more knowledge about Sugamo Prison. The prison gained notoriety in World War II, and the inmates included Japanese people who broke the “Peace Preservation Laws”, set during this period to suppress political dissent. The prison was also used to incarcerate people believed to be spies for the Allied Forces. After Japan became occupied by the United States, the prison was taken over by the Allies and used to house Japanese war criminals, some of whom were executed on the prison grounds. Shortly after the end of World War II, the prison ceased its functions and was torn down.

At the end of the summary I read on Sugamo Prison’s history was one sentence about the memorial stone: that it says “Pray for Eternal Peace” on it in Japanese. Looking up that phrase as a keyword, I found a blog post that said the stone was located in a park. I took the easy 20-minute train from Shiki Station to Ikebukuro, walked about 10 more minutes to the Sunshine 60 building, and then tried looking for parks around the building. Sure enough, a couple of minutes’ walk past Sunshine 60 was a park.

What seemed to be the centerpiece of the park: an elaborate rock waterfall contraption. Notably absent is the Sugamo Prison Memorial Stone.

Because of the small size of the park, it was relatively easy for me to find the stone I was looking for. However, it was noticeably “separate” from the rest of the park, in a corner surrounded by trees. I had to wonder how often anybody stopped by this place, and if they did, if they had any idea what the stone was memorializing, or if it was even a memorial at all. There was no sign indicating it was a memorial (outside of flowers and incense which may be an indirect indicator), and nothing that said Sugamo Prison on it anywhere it sight.

The Sugamo Prison Memorial. For those that want to look up the Japanese characters, it says　永久平和を願って.

Through my time studying Japanese, I have gotten to take courses on Japan and World War II, and the memorial for Sugamo Prison aligns with what I have learned: that Japanese discourse regarding the war has a tendency to gloss over certain factors regarding their culpability for war atrocities, and instead focus on themes such as preserving peace now rather than addressing past destruction. In this way, I wasn’t surprised by the fact that the Sugamo Prison Memorial didn’t seem to “memorialize” anything about the prison. However, I was interested in finding out more about the prison through this memorial, so it was a bit disappointing to find that the structure itself offered very little knowledge. In addition, it was a little saddening to think that those that ought to be remembered through this memorial are likely not getting this recognition. What once was a prison is now just a mall and a stone, and it almost feels disrespectful to call this stone a “memorial” when it does nothing to offer insight into the lives of these prisoners.

To end this post on a somewhat happier note, here is a picture of a cat I met at the park. It seems that there are many cats that gather there, so I'll probably come back to pet them sometime.

Seeing Shiki (Reid Knight)

During my first week in Japan, I spent most of my time outside of my place of residence,  the Rikkyo University International Dorm in Shiki, as I took advantage of the time before my university’s orientation started to do some sightseeing. I managed to travel to many of the major tourist areas in Tokyo, yet still I found that Shiki, a comparatively suburban area located in Saitama prefecture, just outside of Tokyo, was the place I most enjoyed.

My first encounter with Shiki was arriving after a harrowing 2 hours of train travel from Narita Airport. I was surprised by how the streets seemed crammed full of different shops and restaurants, yet there were relatively few cars and people. This meant I could meander about alongside my giant suitcase with relative ease, a stark contrast from crowded Tokyo. I was pleased to find that my dormitory was a straight 3-minute walk from the station, ensuring I wouldn’t get lost. However, this meant that for the first couple of days after my arrival, all I knew of Shiki was the road between my dorm and Shiki Station.

The road I travel at least once a day. Anything I could possibly need is located on this road: a supermarket, a department store, and more food options that I can count. While this is convenient, it also means that I have no need to explore the rest of Shiki, outside of for curiosity's sake.

A lot of what I know about Shiki so far, I found out from other people. I tend to get nervous exploring new places on my own, so having dorm mates who were willing to guide me along has been especially helpful as I get acclimated to my surroundings. One of these experiences came when I followed a friend to a nearby dollar store, next door to yet another department store. She went through Shiki Station and out the other side to get there; somehow I had not noticed until then that there was another side to the station at all. The open area that we emerged in housed the bus stops and “town square” of Shiki, and as far as I can tell is meant to be the “center” of the city.

The Shiki "town square" at night. It is much too expansive to be captured in one photo. It is also guaranteed to have at least one person advertising for the NHK at any given moment.

Another event that expanded my horizons occurred partially because of convenience stores. For those of you that have been to Japan (and probably a few that haven’t), you’ll know that convenience stores (or ‘conbini’) are ubiquitous in Japan. When I was first mapping my surroundings, I used conbini as my landmarks. In fact, on my first full day in Japan, I visited each of the 3 different conbini chains on the street between my dorm and the station to figure out which I liked the most. So when I was talking to another friend towards the end of my first week in Japan and she mentioned the supermarket near 7/11, it took us a moment to realize she was referring to a different 7/11, and thus a different supermarket, than the one I knew. This led to an adventure to said supermarket, in which time I also found the post office, a hotel, an awesome used video game store, and realized there was much more to Shiki than what surrounded the station.

Having drawn new maps and visualized how my knowledge of Shiki has at least doubled since my arrival makes me feel like I am slowly becoming a true “resident” of the area. However, it also illustrates how many roads I haven’t traveled down. Yesterday, I heard that a group of my dorm-mates wandered far enough into Shiki that they found a ginger farm. It hadn’t even occurred to me that there would be farmland in an area like this. I’m looking forward to making the trip myself and seeing what other surprises I find.

The most recent map of Shiki that I drew, which still has too many questions for my liking.

Thoughts from 35,000 Feet (Reid Knight)

As I set out on this journey, I am...

-thankful for the boatload of Frequent Flyer miles gifted to me from my mom’s boyfriend that allowed me to fly Business Class to Japan. Being in a more comfortable setting certainly helped me get the rest I needed to be a fully-functioning human being once I hit the ground.

Part of the authentic Japanese meal I received on the plane (although I neglected to take a picture before eating a portion of it). I had no idea what most of the food was, but it was all delicious.

-excited and in relative disbelief that this adventure is finally happening, and that it is happening in this manner. I have wanted to go to Japan for about 10 years now, and almost went when I was 16, but circumstances arose that made it impossible for me to go. At college, I took Japanese because of a chance opening in my schedule, never expecting that it would turn into a major and a passion. Going to Tokyo will be applying everything I’ve learned so far, and I’m eager to see if I’m up to the challenge. I know experiencing Japanese life is what I need to take my studies to the next level, and hope to gain a deeper understanding of Japanese language and culture during my stay.

-proud of myself that I’ve progressed so far personally that this experience is even possible. 6 years ago, I probably would have met the criteria to be labelled a hikikomori (a “shut-in”, so to speak). Now, I’m going to Japan to research hikikomori, and travelling across an ocean when before it was difficult for me to even leave my house. I don’t know exactly what I’ll find out from the studies I’ll undertake, but I’m hoping that any information I can learn through my research can be helpful to improving the situation of hikikomori in Japan, even if just a little bit.

-nervous, of course. Although I’ve been studying Japanese nonstop, I know adjusting to using the language as my primary mode of communication will be trying. It still feels like I have a tough enough time communicating in English most days. In addition, outside of being a foreigner, which I know immediately makes me stick out like a sore thumb, I am also “invisibly” disabled and LGBT. The understanding surrounding disability and queerness aren’t the same in Japan as in the U.S., and I’ve been fortunate to find a niche for myself at Beloit with friends who share these identities with me, but in Japan I imagine I’ll most likely have to stay “in the closet”. As a result, I worry I won’t be able to connect with people due to how much of an impact those factors have on how I experience the world. I’m going to try and challenge myself to talk with the Japanese students I meet as much as I can with the hope of fostering friendships, even though the language and identity barriers make me anxious.

After a turbulent 14 hours, this map was a welcome sight.

And with that, I will continue to bury my face in my Japanese textbooks, and try to calm down enough to get some food in me and sleep for a few hours. Hopefully when I wake up I’ll feel a little more ready to face the journey ahead.