Arigato Japan

The Yamanote Line. Murakami. Sushi. Ginza. Fujiyama. The Japanese Garden. The Geisha. Kabuki Theatre. Miso soup. Kimono. The Shinkansen bullet train. Mitsubishi. Toyota. The Kamikaze warriors. Harakiri. Sumo wrestling. The Sony Walkman. And now – the Nobita of my daughter’s favourite cartoon series! The Japan of popular imagination is a world of legend, a tale of fantastic proportions, a story of nationalism, hard work and courage. In the first impression, however, two things stand out:  how stylishly well-dressed everyone is. And, how clean everything is.

Slowly, other impressions start to add up. The unfailing politeness, courtesy and concern for others – no one talks on the phone in the metro, for example. Then, not a single person – not one Japanese that I see – is fat. I have to admit I didn’t go to a sumo wrestling match, though!  Then again – all – yes, all - women carry Louis Vuitton. You also notice how small private spaces are. Hotel rooms in Tokyo – whether in the Marriot, a global chain, or in ANA, named after Japan’s famous airline – are all smaller, on average, than those in any other city in the world. You notice too, how seamlessly the traditional integrates with the modern. Unlike Rome, Tokyo does not wear its ruins like a badge. Indeed, Tokyo’s centuries-old palaces and temples are living, breathing spaces, as much a part of modern Tokyo as the dizzying heights of skyscrapers. And then, over time, the strongest impression begins to form – the tremendous energy of the city, its electric vibe, a sea of humanity poised on the cutting edge of design, pulsating, throbbing and pushing the boundaries.  Indeed, Japan understands “civilization” like no other country in the world, not even Germany. Order, and orderliness, and efficiency and thoughtfulness – the fundamental traits required for mass human cohabitation – come closer to perfection in Japan than anywhere else in the world.

We arrive in Tokyo on a balmy April morning, at the peak of cherry blossom.  The husband is here on a mission – to acquire some Nikon lenses for his camera that, apparently, are hard to come by or are exorbitantly priced elsewhere. He gives the famed Akihabara – that mecca of gizmo-shoppers - a miss, and also the famous outlets in Shinjuku and Ginza. He finds instead, a camera shop in a narrow lane (think of Katra Neel or Katra Nawab in Chandni Chowk) in a non-touristy area of Tokyo. In that shop he spends half a day browsing, testing, clicking, discussing in broken but perfectly clear English, and finally leaves with his bag of goodies clutched close to his chest and a wide grin plastered on his face. That evening we celebrate (because he is in a good mood), by eating in a restaurant high up in the Mori Tower in Roppongi, that famous district of the swinging nightlife, from where the view of the Tokyo night is to die for.

Many Japanese restaurants display their dishes in showcases – so you not just read the menu before entering, you also window-shop your dinner. The ingredients are the freshest and chopsticks are always disposable – anything else would probably not be acceptable to the Japanese sense of hygiene. There is a long list of dos and don’ts if you want to comply with table manners – for example never cross your chopsticks and don’t stick them vertically into rice – both have something to do with death and funerals.

Our travels in Japan have taken us to other places too – Kyoto and Nagoya, for instance, two cities very different from each other in spirit and character. Kyoto is the ancient, traditional city of palaces and temples. Nagoya too has a palace, but is more famous as the Toyota city. Work brings me to Nagoya. While there, every morning when I get into the metro train to go to the office, a white-gloved man pushes – literally pushes – everyone inside the coach, so that he can make room for more people. All passengers are polite at all times, and there is hardly any sense of violation of personal space even though three people are pressing into you. How do they do it?

Kyoto seems more relaxed, more laidback, and as many of us discovered during our Prime Minister’s recent visit there, more traditional. I would strongly recommend, however, a visit to the city of Nara, a UNESCO world heritage site, to see a really traditional Japanese city. Nara has an imperial palace, several Buddhist and Shinto temples, a museum, gardens and even a forest and a visit there would mean a day-well-spent. The husband brought back owl-statues as souvenirs from there.

I realized a childhood dream in Japan – that of travelling in the bullet train. Once the initial excitement of zipping down in the fabled Shinkansen settles down, you begin to notice other things – how every train that arrives on the platform stops at the exact same spot – down to an inch, how the ticket checker lady bows to the entire coach before moving on the next, and of course the famous mountain Fujiyama, of which we get splendid views from the train. A train ride from Tokyo to Osaka or Nagoya is a great way to see the sacred volcano if your time in Japan is short.

We have all heard of Italian kitchens and German appliances – but an interesting discovery I made on one of my work-trips to Japan was that Japanese kitchens are the most advanced and better-designed than anywhere else in the world. In Shinjuku, there are streets lined with “Kitchen OEMs” – in India we call them suppliers of modular kitchens. There are floors upon floors of built-up kitchen displays. The shelf fittings, cabinet design and attention to detail are in a different league altogether.

Likewise for Japanese toilets. The humble potty has been exalted to an engineering marvel. The seat itself has a built-in warmer so your behind isn’t discomfited on cold winter mornings when you first park yourself. There are multiple jet options that can be set at variable temperatures. A Japanese toilet with a warm seat and warm water is a luxury that, at the expense of sounding gross, I must admit beats many others!