Again, the geniuses at Cox did something that screwed up their lines and I was suddenlty left with no Internet for an afternoon. I wish they'd screw up when I'm at work, not when I'm at home... Anyway, I can finally update...
To the sun
I am a purportedly a Japanese expert, but there is so much about Japan that I still don't know. One thing is ritual disembowelment; seppuku to us and harakiri (pronounced like the name of the late Chicago Cubs play-by-play announcer, Harry Caray) to the other, larger segment of the US population.
I think most people know that it is a form of suicide committed by samurai when he is allowed to die an honorable death. But beyond that, I know little about its origins or its development. All I know is that in Japan, suicide is often viewed an acceptable--albeit extreme--act in response to a situation that is considered hopeless. And for the samurai, perhaps the most hopeless of situations would be disgrace to his name and family, or the shame of defeat in battle. In these cases, a man would be allowed to kill himself in a final gesture of courage, which probably explains why the ritual entails splitting open the stomach.
Seppuku must have taken incredible strength and fortitude to bear the pain of slicing open a stomach completely enough to ensure death. A slash of the the throat, or stab in the heart would be just as painful, but easier and quicker as it would take only a single stab or slice. Disembowelment entailed cutting across the stomach completely. In one ritual, the participant was required to cut to the midpoint then turn the blade upward toward the sternum. It must have been excruciating. Another aspect of the ritual is the "second", usually a friend or an admiring enemy who will cut off the head at or near the end of the disebowelling. Tis was to ensure a quick death and a perhaps to prevent as much pain as possible.
The most famous example of seppuku is found in the story the 47 Samurai. In it, Asano Takumi-no-kami is required to perform the ritual when he raised his sword at courst against a superior, Kira Kozuke-no-suke who more or less provoked the insident. In response, 47 of Asano's retainers led by Oishikura-no-suke decided to exact revenge, which they did a mauch later, and then as they had disgraces themselves for getting revenge, all 47 commited seppuku as well.
 "To the Sun" ｩ zarah delrosario 2004 Adobe Illustrator |
I like this one a lot. The erstwhile honorable act of disembowelment committed by a woman could have a number of interpretations. This image is of a woman performing the act of a man. She is strong, she has courage. And since she is taking the ultimate responsibility like a man, she has been disgraced for doing something that she did--whatever it might be--that is perhaps usually associated with men. Consequently, for me, "To the Sun" suggests an image of a modern woman. While she has raised herself in society, in reality, she may have disgraced herself or failed in the process to accomplish something. It is not that woman--maybe Japanese and by extension Asian woman--cannot raise herself or be successful, but perhaps whatever she might have done--or failed to do--in the world of men induced her to consider suicide as her response. But as Nefarious brilliantly portrays, such a response is folly. Proving one's strength or one's equality to man by committing a "manly" act, seppuku, is foolhardy, as suggested in the Icarius-like flight to the sun...
Well, that's how I interpreted the image. Of course, it could just mean, I have finals, I'm tired, I wanna kill myself... As any of my students know, I believe that we all have our own interpretations and each one is valid--perhaps some are more insipid than others--but each has its own value.
In any event, I think it's rather powerful image. I wonder if Nefarious would be willing to part with it...
Do you have an interpretation? What might this image mean to you?
Well, as our boss had promised, it was a nice onsen. Hot, intimate and comfy. Back then, I wore glasses instead of contacts and in the onsen, they would fog up, so I usually left my glasses in my clothing basket and entered the bathing area with little vision and a tenugui--the Japanese hand towel. So I'm chatting with a colleague in the small bathing area when I smell cigarette smoke. Now I'm no prude, and at the time I too smoked as well, but there is a time and place for everything so I was rather pissed that someone would be ruining my enjoyment of the onsen with tobacco. I squint my eyes and look around and see a single guy with a dark towel over his shoulder sitting at the edge of the pool taking long deliverate drags on his smokes. 
O-man: I don't "talk 'bout onigiriman", I AM Onigiriman!!!!!
For those of you unfamiliar with onsen, they are natural hot springs that often have therapeutic value. But this is probably true of most hot springs around the world. What distinguishes Japan from the West is not the "what" but the "how". One important aspect of Japanese onsen, of which the uninitiated should be aware, is public nudity. In many spas in the US, men and women wear bathing suits when entering a hot spring bath, hot tub, or jaccuzzi; but if you wore one in Japan, you would face ejection. This is often catches Americans off-guard, because bathing in Japan is a community activity. Whether it is a public bath (sento) or onsen, everyone bathes with strangers in their birthday suits. Of course, public bathing is commonly separated between male and female, but when I was younger I remember that distinction was different: Female bathing and mixed bathing, which meant that both male and female guests could bathe. The first time I went to an onsen and learned what kon'yoku (mixed bathing) meant, my eyes darted to the entrance everytime I heard the rattle of the sliding door. My cousin, more than slightly amused, told me to chill: If you're expecting a woman to come in, forget it. You'll only see the occasional baachan (grandma) if the women's side is too crowded or too noisy. The excitement of anticipation made for a great let down... hehehehe. 
My cousin urged me to open one of the small side windows. When I did, in burst a thin gust of winter air. But to my great surprise, it didnt' seem the least bit cold. My body was so warm from the soaking that it could do nothing to me. I felt impervious to the cold... for about five minutes, when it started getting cold again. I jumped back into the bath, this time more easily adjusting to the heat. Like my cousin, I lied down and closed my eyes. For some reason, I had images of Japanese monkeys...
Speaking of direction: I've heard a couple of old stories about elderly Japanese who didn't know how to use western toilets. One was amazed at American toilet ingenuity: a flat top to a tank so you can sit there--facing the wall--and peruse the magazines stacked there, or even maybe write a letter as you did your business. Once I went to a hot spring in the boonies, and discovered directions using stick figures on how to use western toilets. Laughing, I told my grandpa, and he told me in all seriousness that there once was someone who marvelled at "the balance that white people seemed to have." "Huh?" 
"I stepped up onto the seat and tried to squat but it was slanted inward and I couldn't keep my balance. I put the seat up, but the rim was so narrow, I could barely keep my balance. How do they do it?" 
I once was on the Yamanote line--the one that circles the center of Tokyo--at 8:30 in the morning and I thought I was going to die. I thought I could prevent myself from being pushed around if I stood in the middle of the car away from the door--I was getting off at Shinjuku and so it would not be a problem as virtually everyone gets off there. WRONG! As the hordes started to press in from both sides, I grabbed a strap to maintain my place, but found my body being contorted and twisted. I would have broken my arm if I didn't release my hand. Thinking I learned a lesson, I decided to stay near the door the next time only to get my face crushed into the wall next to the door. I don't see how these people can do it on a regular basis. It would drive any normal person crazy... 
Kichijochi and then transfer to the Inokashira Line to Komaba-Todaimae where the AIEJ office is located. On my first day, I didn't want to be late so I made sure I took the express from Kichijochi. I would change trains at Shimokitazawa to catch the local since the express didn't stop at Komaba Todaimae. Well, the train was pretty crowded at Kichijochi, and so I thought that when the train stopped at Meidaimae--where a lot of people transfered--I'd move closer to the door since the next stop would be Shimokitazawa. 
I inched toward the door, jostling with the other commuters for the prime "fast-exit" position right in front of the door, but just before it closed, a young lady--early twenties, skirt and blouse, kinda pretty, probably an OL (office lady)--stepped into the fray. Looking down, she forced herself in and then turned 180 degrees to face the door just as it closed. Unfortunately for me, she was standing right in front of me, and her now-obviously soft booty was forced back towards me. 
After ten minutes of attempts to create space--this was actually a foolish thing to do, as everytime I created some space I was forced right back into her, simulating a motion that I will leave to your imagination--we finally reached Shimokitazawa and she and I--and what seemed like every commuter in Tokyo--burst through the openning doors. I remained on the same platform the catch the local, while the OL started to walk toward the other end to transfer to the Odakyu line. She momentarily looked back at me, and I was prepared to hear her yell at me: chikan (prevert)! But I guess I looked sufficiently embarrassed that she figured the whole thing was unintentional. But she did give me the dirtiest look.
Friday: I slept like I haven't in years. I went to sleep early Friday morning around 1 AM--early for me since we had a few beers--and woke up around 10 AM. I left the house at 11:30 to go to our J-program cherry blossom viewing picnic. Most of the blossoms had scattered, but it was nice nonetheless as we ate lunch--M made some mini-onigiri for me to take for my students--and played games, concluding with the annual Janken (rock, paper, scissor) tournament. M. Kajiura, last years champion, successfully defended his title. I returned directly home after the picinic and before doing some work, I decided to catch up on some of the TV shows I had taped: CSI, Law and Order, Enterprise. While they were mostly reruns, I watched them, falling in and out of sleep from 3 pm to 9 pm. Actually, it was more like "in sleep" as I hardly remember any of the programs. I figure I slept for about 5 hours. So that's 14 hours... After a late dinner I did some grading and Xangaing and went to sleep at 5 AM. 
Anyway, M and I went to Washington Harbor to see one of my students who is a member of the women's crew team compete. They won in the petite (read: consolation) tournament Unfortunately, I was late, as usual, and didn't get to see her race. But I did see her after the race, as well as another student who, as a volunteer for the Cherry Blossom Festival, helped with the awards... 
