Beware the Osaka Hutong

The term 'hutong' originates in China, but I grokked its meaning in Japan. I think of it as a commercial alley. Oriental cities contain a plethora of such little streets and walk-throughs brimming with close-quarters commercialism. The difference is that in Japan, the concept is upgraded to the 21st century and incorporated into a modern cityscape.

In particular, Osaka, where the shopper's paradise makes New York look like Reykjavik, and even Tokyo cannot compete in sheer density, the alluring retail maze is everywhere. If you spot an entry, be careful. It will suck you up, and if you are low on will-power, it will not spit you back out until you max your credit.

In the following series of pictures, I have included one from Hong Kong and one from Beijing, to round it out.

Japanavia

As I travel around Japan, I notice many details that are distinctly Scandinavian. Sometimes the illusion is so complete as to be uncanny. Following are some pictures that are not that interesting in themselves, except that they could have been taken in Japan or either Denmark or Sweden. To be sure, a native or an expert might notice a revealing detail, so do not take it in a technical sense.

Often, I will see a building or a tile pattern that looks similar to something I might see in Denmark, but something is a little off. For instance, the brick-sizes and methods used in masonry differs slightly, so that a brick building may only look familiar at a distance. Sometimes I cannot put my finger on it. At other times, I will see a house that looks perfectly Danish, but a mountain in the distance or a sign in Kanji destroys the illusion.

To be honest, I am not certain if I initially saw a couple of these patterns, then started looking for them. I will say that they keep jumping out at me in ways that do not happen in other parts of the world.

Poor Norway gets left out. I do not see the wooden construction particular to Norway and northern Sweden, and the mountains near the cities are not dramatic enough.

Himeji, Shogun's Castle

I spent today at Himeji. It was the castle of the first shogun, with a history going back to the 14th century. The current castle was first built in the 17th century, making its history as old as that of Matsumoto, though as I can tell, the latter gets the nod in original construction.

The printed guides unfortunately provided only lackluster historical details, so I did not get a real sense of events surrounding the castle. I did enjoy some more of that wonderful Japanese woodwork. In the 50-60s, they replaced the central support pillar, and the old one is on display. Impressive pieces of wood, especially considering it has been dead for four centuries.

I noticed a repeated pattern of triangle-square-circle. I asked around, but could not find its meaning. I got a sense it was not original with the castle.

Washoku

I have been partaking of Washoku -- Japanese food. All of it is delicious. The two features I like the most are all the little savory side-dishes, and the noodles. I have been trying noodles in Kobe, Tokyo, Nagoya and Sapparo, and I still think my first discovery is the best.

A hallmark of the Japanese quality is that even the meat-and-potatoes equivalent is tasty. Yesterday I had lunch in a place with a lot of working locals streaming through. The dish was a bowl of rice with some greasy eggs and battered pork, with noodles on the side. It did not look all that appetizing, frankly, but somehow, once I started eating, most of it disappeared.

Thanks to my friend, I have also this time enjoyed a lot of neighbourhood restaurants not featured in any guide, a lot of them vegetarian.

Tasty Vegan

It is natural for an omnivore like me to wonder exactly how good vegan cooking can be. It seems severely handicapped, not using dairy or eggs. A visit to a vegan neighbourhood pearl of a restaurant put that notion to rest.

My main dish was a sauce on top of a bed of rice, with a flavor clearly inspired by Italian cuisine, and a caesar salad, one of the best I ever had. Though the lettuce itself was smothered in dressing, it did not have a heavy feeling at all. On the side, we had wonderful treats like simulated fried fish and a veggie-patty. My favorites was a little white marinated turnip, and a root-plant double-decker with some millet filling. The plainness of the ingredients belies the quality of flavor and texture. Every bite was delicious and cooked to perfection. For instance, the turnips had a flavor a bit like a high-quality truffle, but with the texture of a fresh apple.

We also had two dishes for desert. One was a cake with a cream filling and a special sauce. I say 'cream filling,' though the ingredients were all vegetables, grains, or extracts thereof. For instance, my friend tells me there are up to 18 different kind of millet grains they use. The other was a fruit-compot with a vegan custard that was actually creamy and sweet like a custard is supposed to be. It was magic.

In my case, it probably helps that although I am not a vegetarian, I am a veggievore.

Pacific Sweden

I have spent the last few days in Hokkaido, Japan's northern-most island. It reminds me strongly of Sweden. The snow, the firs and the birches could all have been supplanted from Scandinavia, although there is a bamboo-like shrubbery that looks out of place in the snow.

It is not only the fauna. A lot of the architecture is similar as well. I have seen houses throughout Japan that I thought could have been built in Denmark, but up here, whole neighbourhoods share designs with Scandinavia.

I wonder if there is also an affinity people here feel with the countries just across the pole. I see many names and other little nods that are clearly directed towards their European brethren. Perhaps part of all this is just that living in a cold climate leads to certain necessities and comforts, such as hot drinks and slanted roofs. Still, Japan is a surprisingly open country, and I would not be surprised at all if part of what is going on is an import of concepts.

Hokkaido is about level with England, but the coldness is similar to Sweden's, again showing the influence of the cold Pacific.

Of course, Stockholm is a retail backwaters compared to the shopping mecca in Sapporo.

Alien Aliens

A recurring problem in science fiction movies is that aliens are often not really alien. Star Trek, for instance, is noted as being about Americans with different things plastered to their forehead.

Sometimes, the aliens are truly different from us, but hostile, such as The Thing, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and of course, Alien. In this category, though the aliens are completely foreign, both physiologically and psychologically, we get to only experience few aspects, consistent with them being an enemy of war.

District 9 introduces some aliens that really are different from us. They arrive in a huge spaceship hovering mysteriously over Johannesburg. The initial encounter when humans enter the ship is not what you would expect. Spoilers follow.

The aliens, called prawns, looks like they need help, so the South African government interns them all in a shanty-town depressingly reminiscent of Soweto. I have a feeling the parallel was intentional, though apartheid is fortunately never mentioned.

To introduce the situation, some experts are speaking on camera in the beginning of the movie. At first, I thought this was a bad sign. I was not in the mood to watch talking heads for two hours. This only lasts for a bit, until the story starts. The story itself does not break new ground, but it is well told and well acted, and you experience the protagonist bonding with one of the enigmatic aliens, as well as undergoing a transformation of his own, in at least two ways.

Many commenters have questioned the appearent simplicity of the aliens. Maybe they have not thought it through. How would Paul Krugman do in the Soweto ghetto? The prawns are certainly displaying values much different from ours, but that is precisely what makes them alien. For instance, to me it seemed like they valued many things above their own lives, yet, they had the ability to grieve for each other.

Daybreakers vs. Let the Right One In

I have seen two great vampire movies: "Daybreakers" and "Let the Right One In." Of the two, I thought Daybreakers was better. Here is why.

Daybreakers had a few twists that made it interesting. Unlike practically all other vampire stories, in Daybreakers, the vampires are in the majority and running civilisation, while humans are scattered in hunted bands.

A subtler, but more interesting, twist is that the vampires do not change internally when they become vampires. Vampire-hood is brought on by a parasitic disease, so that nothing happens to the victim's faculties, soul or conscience. In other vampire worlds, the turned vampire is anywhere from a completely unrecognizable to seriously twisted version of the original human. In the Buffy world, for instance, many personality traits are retained, but the vampire has no conscience. This leads to a range of reactions, where some vampires take pleasure in the damage and pain they inflict on humans, but most of them are just hunters out looking for their next meal.

In Daybreakers, most of the vampires accept the situation, some with a hint of remorse, others with relish. The protagonist, Ed Dalton played by Ethan Hawke, is so conflicted about the situation that he eventually stops drinking human blood altogether, at the danger of becoming emaciated. In Daybreakers, the vampires do not die from starvation, at least not immediately, but rather turn into a creature like a giant bat.

There is a political undertone to this situation. The vampires retain the full mental capability and moral outlook that they had as humans, yet, when it comes to survival, most of them goes with the flow. If Bromley must lock up humans in a facility, keep them barely alive, and milk them for their blood; if they must fund the military to hunt down and wipe out the last human resistance; if the police must taser, imprison or even kill the poor weaklings that did not make it and are turning into vile bats, then so be it.

These twists make the movie interesting, and it is well done on top. As one small sign of the thoroughness of the world, consider that since vampires do not reflect in mirrors, these high-tech ones use video-cameras to view their own image. With twenty-first century technology, the traditional vampire weaknesses, such as not being able to withstand the sun, is easily overcome. It is not really clear if vampires are stronger, which is another facet I liked. When the characters are fighting with even 19th century technology, there is no reason strength should be an important advantage. (The humans use crossbows in Daybreakers, presumably because they do not have resources to make gunpowder).

Many users call the movie horrible, including one companion I watched the movie with. Let the Right One In got better reception by critics. It has an impressive 8.5 score in its IMDB user rating, where Daybreakers only gets 7.1 (still not bad). Why is this?

I believe it is because Let the Right One In is not really a vampire movie. To enjoy Daybreakers, you must accept the vampire theme. Let the Right One In, on the contrary, is a pretty traditional story about a young, isolated boy, Oskar, who needs to overcome his nemesis. It is a story told countless times. The movie could have worked equally well if his new friend, Eli, was different for any other reason than being a vampire, such as a religious outcast or part of a family of career-criminals. Sure, there are some scenes that play on Eli being a vampire, including a tense moment when Eli and Oskar is lying in bed together, Oskar half asleep. Yet, these scenes are not critical to the overall story. In Daybreakers, the vampire theme is central.

I could have done without a gratuitous explosion or three, but overall, I think Daybreakers adds wonderfully to our vampire folklore.