The first day of autumn in Olde Nagoyaland. The seasons are officially as screwed up here as they seem to be everywhere else. In particular, they now appear to be changing almost two weeks earlier than 'normal', are a fair measure more extreme, and turn on a dime. While spring made a welcome early entrance, so did the typhoon and rainy seasons, pretty much sticking a massive thorn in to our late June trip out to the southern islands. My lovely wife usually books our annual four day interlude in February or March...and up until this year, the late June/early July window that we customarily chose was ideal...the end of rainy season in the Ryukyus, and typically sunny, and beautiful. A much anticipated (albeit far too brief) annual respite from our usual day-in, day-out routines in the dull grey belly of Planet Japan's least loved major city...but more on THAT, later.
This year's destination, Miyako Island, has the most beautiful beaches and striking translucent blue waters I've ever seen...but if blowing rain and high seas are prevailing and said beaches are all roped off and closed, there really isn't much of a reason to be there. There are no other attractions or distractions. No shopping, entertainment, or cultural draws to speak of. A bit shabby and unkempt, it seems to be the Ryukyu Island that time forgot somewhere back in what the J-folk refer to as 'Showa' (the era of Emperor Hirohito's reign, 1926-89). Not a place that you'd really feel too comfortable wandering around after sunset. Poorly lit at night, and visibly ill maintained by day. Kind of an uncomfortable, 'creepy' vibe. The curiously empty streets, and clusters of surly looking, badly tattooed young locals hanging around outside of convenience stores, or drinking in the town center's abundant darkened corners makes for a decidedly less than welcoming ambience, as well. The place reminded me of how I'd imagine some kind of dodgy, backwater South China Sea pirate enclave. A haunted one, at that. If I were on the run, looking to hide myself, lay low, and NOT be found...this is the type of place I'd likely relocate to. The island's inescapable mascot/symbol is a horrifying, life-size plastic dummy/statue of an Okinawa Prefecture traffic cop, affectionately (?) known by locals and visitors alike as 'Mamoru kun' . It's ghastly rendered likeness will no doubt be the very first and last thing you see upon arrival, and departure. These hideous mannequins pepper the small island's roadsides and interchanges, for no other apparent reason than to 'remind people to drive carefully, and within the speed limit'...or so is said. They only add to the overall creepiness of this place after dark, too. Various interpretations of this abomination also appear on the ubiquitous boxes of 'omiage' (souvenir) cookies and crackers that Japanese tourists are pretty much obligated to cart home for everyone they've ever met if they venture so much as 10 km away from their places of residence for more than a couple of hours. Failure to cough up with the biscuits or crackers upon return from any voyage can result in one's immediate decapitation, and a public burning of your headless corpse on the street corner nearest your domicile. Of the outer Ryukyus that we've visited so far, I think I'd go back to Ishigaki..which was better kept up, and had a certain charm (though the locals were also a bit on the surly side). Once was enough for shabby Miyako and Mamoru-kun. Maybe I would have felt different if it hadn't monsoon rained for 80% of the three days we were there. Like I said, from what I could see of the beaches (beyond the ropes and signs denying access), they looked magnificent. There does appear to be a lot of construction going on, though. Maybe they're shooting for an image change, and it will be better a few years down the road? Or it's a cynical attempt at slapping down a 'fresh coat of paint' to try to draw in more Chinese tourists. Hard to say. I guess out of the five early summer trips we've made to the southern islands over the years, we were bound to draw the short straw sooner or later. Not a particularly cheap mis-adventure, either. Ouch. Better luck next year, I hope.
It was actually raining harder than anything I'd ever seen in my life thus far on our way to the airport to catch our flight back to these precincts. It came as somewhat of a shock that (with only an hour's delay) our plane was actually approved to fly...though I found myself questioning the wisdom of anyone who would decide to risk putting an aircraft up in that relentless tropical squall madness. Finally, faced with the choice of quite possibly ending up floating on a pile of aviation wreckage somewhere in the open ocean, or the prospects of another day of endless rain in Mamoru-kun land, we swallowed hard and handed the flight attendant our boarding passes - glad to at least be on our way back to the more familiar, predictable (and hopefully drier) purgatory of Olde Nagoyaland. It's a sure sign that your vacation was a bust if you're actually looking forward to being back in Nagoya. After a jet coaster-like 45 minutes of being tossed around by mother nature, the plane popped above the weather for an hour or so, and we were treated to a brief glimpse of some summer sunshine. The emphasis there would be on 'brief'. I think it kept on raining for the better part of a week after we got back...from one end of Japan to the other, and all points in between. The Hiroshima people got the worst of that. The first bona-fide natural disaster of a summer in which mother nature's vengeance and wrath on the Japanese archipelago would be a recurring theme.
Which brings us back to home base, and Olde Nagoyaland. Better than some of the alternatives, to be sure...but is that it?
Somewhat to my surprise, I've recently been derided for this blog's perceived 'dour' tone, and my less than glowing take on life here in the sweaty industrial armpit of central Japan. 'All you do is complain'... 'Why are you always so negative?', and so on. While I try to add as amusing a take on the whole 'life in Nagoya' thing as I can, this apparently failing attempt at 'dry humour' also seems to fly right over the heads of some of my dwindling handful of readers. I've even been told (to my bemusement) that I hail from "the OTHER side of passion". Heh. So I got to thinking.
Am I really raining on everyone's cotton candy, rainbow and unicorn parades?
Maybe it's the easiest path to take. To bitch and complain. It's not very challenging to pick through the events of the day, or the people, places and situations that make up one's 'life', and find the negatives. The shit to complain about. It's all right there...an easy grab...the 'lowest hanging fruit', so to speak. It's a particularly easy grab if you live in Nagoya.
But....what's GOOD? It can't be ALL BAD. Or... can it?
As this blog is ostensibly called 'Olde Nagoyaland', most of the aforementioned venting and bitching is centered on or around my life, the goings on in this crummy town, it's crummy residents, and all the crummy shit they get up to. Oh, yeah...and how it all drives me to distraction. Am I the only one who slags this lousy town? Is everyone else walking around with big Kool-Aid grins at the very mention of Nagoya, and it's population of soulless mouth breathers? Or is it just poor, mentally ill me being a 'negative Nancy'?
As it happens, a couple of weeks back, a survey was published by a few of the local J-news venues, ranking Japan's biggest cities, from most, to least appealing. I actually touched on this briefly in a recent entry on my similarly caustic, and equally un-popular Facebook blog. Anyways, responses were gathered from 3,344 participants, ranging in age from of 20 and 64 (all of whom had lived in one of the cities for at least five years), and, as if by some magical coincidence, they were also particularly harsh on ONE town...
Here's a rundown of the results...
● Most appealing city
1. Sapporo (chosen by 22.8 percent of respondents)
2. Tokyo (22.4 percent)
3. Kyoto (18.1 percent)
4. Yokohama (10.8 percent)
5. Fukuoka (9.5 percent)
6. Kobe (7.6 percent)
7. Osaka (5.3 percent)
8. Nagoya (3.5 percent)
Now we'll bring up the rear...
● Least appealing city
1. Nagoya (chosen by 31.9 percent of respondents)
2. Fukuoka (15.7 percent) 3. Osaka (14.4 percent) 4. Tokyo (14.3 percent) 5. Sapporo (7.6 percent) 6. Kobe (6.2 percent) 7. Yokohama (5.3 percent) 8. Kyoto (4.7 percent)
(* stats courtesy of Sora News 24,YouTube/ANNnewsCH via TV Asahi via Hachima Kiko. Sankei West)
Unsurprisingly, Nagoya comes in far and away, the clear loser, and by a substantial margin. The people have spoken. A truly 'unappealing' city.
I suppose I should take comfort in the fact that I'm not the only one with such a relatively dire opinion of my adopted base of operations. It's a deadbeat town. Losersville. Yet; alas...that's too easy. There has to be something that I've forgotten, or over-looked. Something worthwhile, favourable, or positive about this bland, 400-plus year old Edo-period castle town that I've squandered nearly a quarter century (!) mired in.
Thus, I've taken on a challenge...to do my level best to attempt to avoid snatching at the abundant 'low hanging fruit' of easy negative commentary, and really try to come up with a list of things that are actually GOOD about ye Olde Nagoyaland. A Top Eight List, if you will (because ten would really be stretching it). One positive point... one PLUS for Nagoya, for each of the list's contending cities. Eight good things, or benefits to living here... no matter how seemingly superfluous or minor. I'll try to be specific to Nagoya, as well, and do my best to avoid listing 'Cold beer available 24-7 at the convenience store five minutes down the road', as that's generally true of everywhere in this country...barring the top of Mt. Fuji, or the middle of Lake Biwa. Just so you understand and appreciate my efforts, I'll also have you know that I've really been racking my brain over this...and it's been a long painful slog...so do bear with me.
Henceforth, I give you a work in progress...
Shaun 'Art Wanker' Gleason's 'Top Eight Things About Olde Nagoyaland' (in no particular order)
1) It's pretty level. By that I mean FLAT. With the exception of the very east wards of the city (like the university area around Yagoto) there aren't a lot of hills to climb if you're walking, or commuting by bicycle in Nagoya City proper. For those on shitty Showa-era 'Mama-chari' shopping bikes, or with huge fat arses and cardio-vascular issues...this is a plus.
2) Trains and subways. It's pretty easy to figure out the commuter rail networks and navigate even the larger stations, compared to cities like Tokyo and Osaka, where things tend to be a lot more convoluted and challenging (particularly to a novice). Public transportation here is reliable, and will basically get you pretty close to almost anywhere that you'd want to go, with a minimum of fuss or stress.
3) Nagoya itself is pretty easy to figure out, having been redesigned on a basic compass grid during the post-war reconstruction. The original city was essentially flattened by US B-29's in the first half of 1945, leaving a virtually clean slate for hired gun American urban planners to start from scratch with during the occupation. Around Nagoya, you will still find the odd neighbourhood with those confusing, narrow, squirrely streets and alleys that are so characteristic of old Japanese towns and cities...but they are comparatively few and scattered. When the Americans decide to bomb a town off the map, they are pretty thorough. Precious little of the original, pre-war Nagoya remains.
4) It's relatively quiet. There isn't much action, and streets are pretty much deserted by 11pm. Of course, if you aim yourself toward Nagoya Station, Sakae, Osu, or your local shopping centre complex, you're going to run into crowds of people; but if your aim is a more solitary existence, it's actually possible to walk down a stretch of road with no one visibly in front of you, or behind you, breathing down the back of your neck. This isn't so easy to experience in places like Osaka or Tokyo, where personal space is not really a 'thing'.
5) Semi-cheap rent. Depending on how you want to live, and what your specific expectations or standards are, it's comparatively affordable to rent a reasonably well situated, standard type of apartment on a monthly basis. Of course, being of the non-Japanese persuasion, it's highly recommended to bring along a friend-type, employment related, or ideally SPOUSE J-native to assist in the negotiations (if at all possible), and attendant guarantor business (if required). Then there is the initial matter of coughing up a huge wad of cash to cover the real estate agent's fee (which varies), the non-refundable 'key money' and 'deposit' (rekin and shikikin, respectively - which can usually run you the equivalent of 3 months rent, up front) and then the additional fees for parking and grounds/building maintenance (if applicable). Once all of this is settled; you've hopefully curtailed your drinking enough to eventually crawl out of debt for all these relatively deep pocket expenditures, it's currently cheaper to live here month-by-month than in most North American cities. The key is staying put, because it's so expensive, and such a massive hassle to pack up and move constantly. And not pissing off your neighbours with noise, and mysterious gaijin-type 'goings on'. The J-natives are a skittish bunch, not really fond of living anywhere near 'exotic' foreign types, and won't hesitate to call the po-po, and/or report you to the rental agency for even the smallest perceived infraction. Do also check the terms of your rental agreement before you sign, to make sure that they don't suddenly hit you with additional fees to 'renew your lease' after a year or two. The devil is often in the details, as is said. I rent in the projects, or 'danchii', as the J-natives say. Public housing. Not the shiniest, newest or most modern complexes, but reasonably well maintained, and relatively affordable, as far as 'working class' accommodations go. When all is said and done, it costs less than a third of what it would to rent a similarly sized place back in new-fangled Vancouver-land... IF we somehow managed to beat out the hundreds of other potential renters vying for every single available space, no matter how over-priced, inconveniently located, or squalid. These days, it seems that phenomenon isn't limited to Vancouver alone, either. The squeeze is on in just about every housing market on the map back there.
6) Nobody gives a shit about non-Japanese movies or concerts. In the rare event that there is some premiere film event, or musical act of international re known that, for some unknown reason, decides to make a stop in Nagoya, you will likely be able to get tickets to said event without any problem...even at the last minute. Example. In early July, Paul McCartney (love or hate him) sold out 3 December stadium dates for the UK leg of his current tour in less than five minutes of said tickets going on sale. A concert stop in Nagoya (?!) was also announced around the same time, and tickets have been on sale since the beginning of September. A full month later, good seats are still available at list price. Very convenient. The flip side of this, of course, is that almost nobody 'in the know' bothers coming to Nagoya. Touring acts of all sizes routinely undersell, and lose their shirts if they risk booking in this town. Word spreads like a bad smell, and they don't come back.
Can't decide whether you want to go to that big blockbuster movie on opening day? Don't worry. Whereas you'd likely have to join a long queue back in your country of origin, and then sit shoulder to shoulder with the great unwashed masses (assuming you were fortunate enough to manage a seat), in Olde Nagoyaland, you'll likely be able to breeze right in...and MAYBE even have an empty seat beside you to put your jacket and bag on.
7) Relative safety. While far from crime free and sanitized, you can essentially walk down the street, or through a park at night, and probably not get hit by a stray bullet, or need to worry about being gunned down in a shopping centre, or whether your kids will make it home from school alive or not. This isn't to say that there's no violent crime. There certainly is, as with everywhere...so common sense and due caution are indispensable. The locals seem to be particularly fond of knife play, and shanking people...even random strangers...so it pays to look up from your smart phone every once in awhile to make sure that there isn't some 14 year old knife wielding psychopath having a meltdown in the seat right across from you over his inability to snag some elusive Pokemon. Gaijin make big, conspicuous targets, for which accolades and bonus points galore will be awarded. Nagoya has also been extremely fortunate in that, at least in my years over here, there has yet to be a natural disaster or horrendous calamity of any real consequence wreak any additional havoc on the city, her precincts, or hapless inhabitants. That's not to say that there haven't been deadly disasters of some considerable magnitude kick this town in the pooper in the past; but in the quarter century I've been here, 'Losersville' has, thus far, been mercifully spared.
8) A comparative lack of tourists draping themselves all over the local upholstery, and crowding the city's thoroughfares and public transportation. Tokyo, Kyoto, Nara...the list of places over here that draw in the sightseers is long. Travelers come from near and far to see the sights, sample the local cuisine and customs, and have themselves an authentic, and uniquely 'Japanese' experience. News flash. Anyone coming to Nagoya with any of this in mind is going to be sorely disappointed. Sure, there are restaurants serving edible dishes. There are also reconstructions of old shrines and temples here and there, built on the original sites. There are also a few parks and museums where you can view a variety of antiquities...or reproductions, thereof. There's a big kabuki theatre. A brand-spanking new modern one, on the same site that the old one occupied. They're even spending a shit load of cash to re-build the 60 year old post-war reconstruction of Nagoya Castle (the original was torched by B-29's in 1945), in an effort to bring in tourists, and their fists full of cash. This rather ambitious project will take years to complete, though. In the meantime...there's a brand spanking new Legoland theme park on the very outskirts of town, nestled between scenic highway flyovers, and majestic smoke belching industrial facilities. How's that for a truly Japanese experience? In short, there's no reason for anyone to really spend any time in Nagoya. Not that a certain number don't show up anyways (lord knows why)...but it's nice not to have to regularly compete with throngs of disoriented lookey loos for a seat on the train on your daily commute.
That was exhausting. I'm literally spent. The cupboard is now officially bare. I guess I've succeeded in illustrating that it's actually not ALL bad. Hooray!
With that, it's off we go into the grey, ropey 'glory' of autumn in in Olde Nagoyaland. After a couple of days of sunshine, it's back into the purgatorial darkness of the recently seemingly endless seasonal rains we go, until week's end, at least. Then it will clear for a day or so, and start pissing down all over again. Word is that we may even be treated to another deadly, destructive typhoon a week and some change henceforth. Will Losersville dodge the bullet again?
Questions, questions...
Perhaps there will be another dispatch before the onset of winter...? Or maybe not. You'd need to watch this space to find out, and I seriously doubt that anyone has bothered to plow through this far, anyways. If you did make it through to this hearty conclusion... kudos and congratulations. You're obviously made of stern stuff.
Until next time, it's adieu...and remember, "No matter where you go...there you are"
In relative terms, at least.
