Whale of a Time

I have been steadily working at the factory--- I mean, Nova. I have been doing a lot of overtime lately, because I am preparing a trip to Beijing at the end of April. One of my former students from GHCC is going to squire me around for a few days, and I will stay a few days. I have the time pretty much sewn up, and all I have to do now is to get my flight arrangements and a hotel. You will then see all the magnificent pix I can take!

This week has been pretty busy, I had a test to study for and got good marks, so there is that. Yesterday, I was walking around the underground mall, and there were three sumo wrestlers just walking down the hallway. This is an example of the integration that Japan has with its modern and traditional self, that these three huge, men were sauntering down the way in kimono with no one giving a second glance, unless they are a fan. How many times do you see ball players in the states do that? Let me tell you, too, they are BIG BOYS, and any one of them could easily give Ray Lewis a good shove, and mean it. You do not want to mess with them. What was interesting to me was that they carried themselves with a quiet pride, knowledgeful that they are emblematic of the culture they love, and doing a sport which is full of tradition and athleticism. One of the guys had even shaven his head in the old, top-knot style. They did not push anyone out of the way, they did not have an entourage, they were just passing through, just like any one of us were. Yet, you could tell they were well aware of their power. There are times where I think this is emblematic of the Japanese in general. They will do their best so you do not notice what they do, but you can't not notice. And, if you push, you better be prepared to feel a hard push back, maybe even two.

Another good example of this is the attitude towards the leviathan of the sea. Last Thursday, I ate whale. It was delicious, a little like beef, a little like venison. Now, some may decry my dietary decision, but when I told my dad, he said that you could get whale in good French restaurants, in Boston, in the Sixties. When I was in Tokyo, they had whole shops selling whale meat. Now, anyone who knows my attitude towards cetaceans know I savoured every bite, and felt no guilt, but rather pride and happiness. I feel part of a tradition that goes back more than a thousand years, an art perfected by Basque fishermen, and carried on by New England whalers, who helped fuel the economy of my that region searching for the beast. The fact that we can eat whale meat in Japan today, though, is part of what I am talking about with the Japanese. There is a stricture against hunting whale, which the Japanese circumvent by claiming their harvest is for "scientific purposes." If the science is to find out how much you can stuff down your gullet, or how well the meat settles into your tummy, well, it might just need more research, now, don't you think? So desu. However, eating whale is traditional. And, like the sumo wrestlers walking down the way without worrying about what people are thinking when they are living a traditional life, so too the Japanese government cares not a whit what the international community thinks about stuff they should keep their noses out of, Japanese things! No matter how many boats Greenpeace has, the whalers have more, and they will ram your ass if you get in the way. Just try to push, see what happens.

Did I eat the whale? Yup. Am I going to continue to live in Japan? Yup. Am I going to rethink the arrogance of being American? Nope. Why? Because we are all arrogant as cultures in our own way, and I got mine, and it is what I understand. Maybe I will temper it, maybe I will learn to disguise it, a la japonaise, but I will come to terms with it, it is part of who I am. And I will savour every bite of that, too.