Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Japanese Yurui Mascot Characters


In the Beginning

In the town of Hikone, Japan there is a samurai cat of unknown gender that serves as the mascot character of Hikone Castle. The mascot’s name--Hikonyan--is a combination of the city name Hikone and “nyan,” the sound Japanese people ascribe to cats. Both character and name were created by the illustrator Moheron for the castle’s 400 year anniversary five years ago. During the festivities Hikonyan paraded through Hikone city winning over locals and others from around the country. In the time since, Hikonyan’s popularity has played a large part in fueling Japan’s mascot character craze.

Hikonyan
Characters Galore

Now before I continue I would like to talk a bit about what exactly a mascot character is.  To begin with, they’re full title is yurui masukotto kyarakuta- or “yurukyara” for short. As the Japanese word “yurui” suggests these mascots are gentle, easy going and heart warming.  In Japan there are over a thousand of them and they are each associated with an event, town or landmark. For example, Tokyo Sky Tree has not one, but two characters, Oshinari-kun and Sorakara-chan.  Another is Minamo who was used for the 2012 National Sports Festival in Gifu Prefecture. And then there is Kiichan who is the mascot character for the 2015 national festival which will be held in Wakayama. Hiayumaru, whose head is shaped like an Ayu--the fish of Gifu prefecture. But it is in fact a sweet snack made to look like the fish that is a popular regional food in and around Gifu. Hachimaru is the Mascot for Nagoya Castle. He was also created for a 400-year anniversary celebration. 

The more popular yurukyara also have their own personas, songs and merchandise. Its all part of their overall purpose is to attract the attention of Japanese people and provide positive PR. But few if any have been as successful as Hikonyan. In fact, it was chosen as #1 by judges at the first ever Yurui Mascot Character Grand Prix in 2010. The beloved cat’s rise to fame, however, has not been without incident. Its creator Moheron sued the city of Hikone for using drawings of Hikonyan that were not of his creation. The disgruntled illustrator was so upset he threatened to put an end to Hikonyan’s use. Now had this happened, it would have been a great travesty for the people of Japan. Fortunately, the parties involved were able to sort the matter out and Hikonyan remains with us to this day.

The Original Pictures of Hikonyan

A Castle and the Cat

When visiting Hikone in Shiga prefecture, you can see Hikonyan at the castle on Saturdays, Sundays, National Holidays, and some weekdays. Its appearances draw large crowds of spectators who call out “kawaii” without end. I must admit, years ago, after first hearing about Hikonyan, I didn’t understand--why such a fuss over a person in an animal suit? Hell, I don’t even like cats. Hikonyan is the one exception.

I remember it well. It was a fine spring day, two years ago. At the behest of a friend, I was herded up with a group of Japanese people a hundred strong. And there we waited in front of The Hikone Castle Museum, when from the east in the glare of a golden sun, Hikonyan appeared. A gasp of elation escaped the crowd, followed by a crescendo of remarks. “Look, look! It’s so cute,” they said. Meanwhile, I stood completely transfixed, for within seconds of seeing it with my very eyes, I too had fallen victim to the cat’s irresistible charms.

More than merely making an appearance, Hikonyan delights audiences with a grand performance. The mascot assumes a variety of adorable poses and mannerisms for 30 minutes. These include bowing, air guitar and a penguin like dance. Hikonyan also brings a prop to play with such as a sense fan, dango on a stick or as you can see here, a flag. Japanese people can hardly control themselves at the sight.

Now, while mostly a shut in, Hikonyan does on occasion leave the castle. It makes appearances to promote the city of Hikone, take part in festivals, and most importantly, to assert its dominance as the cutest mascot character in Japan. And rumor has it, that when not in the public eye, Hikonyan resides in the main keep at Hikone Castle where it keeps a watchful eye from above waiting for the next chance to warm the hearts of visitors.

Enter the Cat
With a Pinwheel
Castle Keep
So for anyone who likes cats, samurai, cute things, or an all around good time, I highly recommend that you visit Hikone. Aside from seeing Hikonyan you can also tour the castle, one of only a few left in Japan that is an original construction. The story goes that during the Meiji Restoration it was spared from demolition by none other than the Emperor himself. Upon visiting the magnificent site he declared it a national treasure to be preserved and enjoyed by future generations. It is easy to understand why. Hikone offers panoramic views of Lake Biwa, and contains the beautiful Genkyu Garden—which alone is worth the visit.

Genkyu Gardens
Kumamon the Black

As much as I have heaped praise upon the name of Hikonyan, his reign of cuteness may not last. From the west a challenger has risen to challenge the samurai cat to become the most beloved Yurukyara in Japan. Kumamon is his name and he resides in the city of Kumamoto where he represents Kumamoto Castle. Because the place is far from where I live, I had thought I would never have the opportunity to see Kumamon in person. But I was mistaken. On a cold, snowy day in December of last year I went to Takayama, and the city happened to be hosting a Yurukyara Christmas Festival. An assortment of characters from around the country had come to participate. Among them was Kumamon. When I first saw the black bear on stage my heart jumped. Quickly, I closed in, drew my camera and began taking pictures. The festival lasted a good part of the day and towards the end the characters posed with spectators. This gave me the opportunity to snap close up shots. Everyone's attention was on the black bear, and it got to the point where I felt bad for the other characters. To get in pictures they actually had to go and stand near Kumamon or they were otherwise ignored.

At the Festival
Striking a Pose
The hour became late. The sky darkened. Kumamon and his three helpers left the stage area to return home. I too was ready to go to my hostel and the road back was the same for all of us.  Walking behind at a distance, I observed Kumamon. There were no other spectators around yet the bear kept acting silly. He stopped and hugged a sign post, continued to do random poses, and fell behind his entourage which kept motioning for him to continue along. Finally, the group reached Kumamon's van which was parked in a back alley. But before everyone got in, a young Japanese couple chanced upon the group. Kumamon sprang to life and happily posed for pictures. His entourage waited impatiently. I caught up with the group and out of curiosity asked if it was a guy or woman inside the bear suit.

One of the helpers, an elderly man with gentle eyes, looked at me and smiled. "There is no one inside," he said.

For a moment I almost believed him.

Well, after this experience I am drawn. I really do not know which of the two characters I like more. In some ways they are polar opposites. Hikonyan is a white cat and Kumamon a black bear. But they are also similar. Both come from castle towns and are immensely popular. And beyond that the characters posses a level of charisma and adorableness that is almost too much to bear. Get it? Bear? Ha ha, right?

Anyhow, I really must hand it to the Japanese. They took their unparalleled mastery of creating cute things, and somehow stepped it up a notch when they made the two.

This Way
Yanana the Fair

It is quite difficult to avoid Yuru Characters with so many of them in the country. The day I met Kumamon, there was another character on stage, one with whom I had a history. Her name was Yanana. She is a mermaid with a kind of cardboard box for a head. We had first met months before during the hot and humid Japanese summer. I was at Gifu station waiting for a friend who was running late. To kill time I walked around the area when unexpectedly I came upon a performance featuring Yuru Characters. There they were on the north side of the station with a crowd gathered around. A band played music and the characters danced in sync. My first thought was that the poor souls inside the suits must be burning up. However, the female character wore a dress, so she was certainly better off than the rest.


When the performance finished the characters mingled with the spectators. I made for the mermaid and passed my camera to someone to take a shot. As we posed, Yanana (whose name I did not yet know) drew in close. She placed a gloved hand on my chest and to my surprise kind of felt me up while also straddling my side. This contact between us made me see her in a whole new light. I began to wonder what the face beneath the box looked like.


Performing
Me and Yanana

Sadly, I did not find out. What's more, Yanana retired at the end of the year. This came to me as a shock for I had not known that these characters could even do that. I mean Mickey Mouse never retired from Disneyland, or Big Bird from Sesame Street. The mere suggestion of them doing so would be borderline madness. But I suppose I can't hold Japanese Yuru Characters to American standards. "They exist in a class of their own," a coworker later told me as I expressed my confusion over the matter. "But not to worry," she said, grasping my hand. "There will be others. There always are." Her words brought me great comfort because I knew she was right.


"Thank you," I said. And as I solemnly nodded my head I swore deep, down inside on all that is pure and righteous that I would find these new characters--whenever they might appear--and with camera in hand photograph them.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Myanmar in 8 Days

South East Asia


After traveling extensively around Asia, I had heard Myanmar was one of the most exotic places one could go. So I made up my mind to visit the place. Not knowing what to expect, I was in for a few surprises.

The flight over
Yangon

I first arrived in Yangon with my Australian friend Thomas. From the airport we caught a taxi to our hotel. Looking out the window, I did not think the city seemed different from the other cities in South East Asia. It was as if I had been there before. So there wasn't that traveler's rush one often experiences when assaulted by the sights and sounds of a new destination. However, it did not take me long to realize that Yangon was in fact unique. The city did not have the modern conveniences one would find in Bangkok or Hanoi. I saw no shopping centers, fast food restaurants or convenient stores. Most the signs had no English on them. And the streets were filthy and cluttered. It appeared more like India than the neighboring South East Asian countries of Laos and Thailand.

Checking in
Yangon street view
Set the bird free
Bananas for sale
What I had not anticipated was the amount of foreigners. I was thinking they would be nonexistent. But then again there really were not so many. Only enough to stand out in most the places I went. A few touts would target them in the city center. One was the type that offered to exchange dollars into local kyat. The other type was young monks who asked for money (both seem dubious so I did my best to ignore them). By the time most Westerners set foot in Myanmar, they are already seasoned, cautious travelers. Yet a few tourists I talked to were still scammed by moneychangers. That said, the Myanmar people still came across as honest and fair. Haggling over prices was not a commonplace practice except for maybe at the most touristy of spots. Moreover, the locals liked to talk with foreigners. In those instances, they did not try to sell something or take us anywhere. It was simply friendly conversation and a good opportunity for them to practice their English.

Grains
Hindu temple
Local cuisine
Floating palace
Yangon is a flat city with one prominent hill. On the hill is Shwedagon Pagoda, a giant golden edifice that supposedly houses three hairs of Siddhartha Gautama, the first Buddha. For anyone visiting the city it is a must see. More than a pagoda it is a collection of temples, many gilded and imposing. Locals go there to pray with countless monks among them. Then there are the tourists free wielding their cameras. I was no different. With my trusty Nikon I snapped away, looking for the best angles. To the west the sun sank and the pagoda become lit up with giant lights. The devout placed candles around the edge of the main pagoda. Apparently, because of the full moon, it was a special occasion. In spite of the arrival of night, the complex remained alive with prayer and activity.


Shwedagon Temple
Solemn worship
Lit up
Made a friend
Wet rat
As the sun goes down
Monks

I have a fascination with Buddhist monks. Yangon had plenty. I am certain Myanmar is home to more of them than any other place I have visited. Every morning these bald, robed denizens roam the city in search of handouts. Under their arm they carry a container for people to put food in, such as rice, fruit and bread. By giving these alms to the money, the locals are improving their karma. Moreover, many of these people were at one time a monk so they understand the necessity of their actions. Monks do not have money and they forsake worldly possessions. It is by the kindness of others that they survive. With all the colorful monks going around collecting food, it reminded me of American trick-or-treaters on Halloween, especially when they went from store to store. The owners would put something in each of their containers as the monks lined up and moved on to the next shop.

Monk walk
I talked with several monks during my stay. They said that as Buddhists they join a temple to study and strengthen their faith. But how long they remain depends on the person. Some go for only a week, and others stay on for thirty years. I saw children who were monks, and old men, but most were young guys--slim, fit and full of energy. Moreover, there were female monks, and they wore not auburn, but pink robes. While in other Buddhist countries female monks were a rarity, in Myanmar they were everywhere. And they sung when they collected their alms. But otherwise they kept to themselves in close groups, perhaps because they were forbidden from having contact with men.

Collecting alms
Buddha statue, Theravada style
Delta Life

Yangon is on the shores of the Yangon River. Much of the riverside is reclaimed land, whereas opposite the water to the east, delta life continues. We took a ferry across, and then a pickup north to the town of Twente. The truck was meant to seat ten, but Thomas and I were two of thirty-five passengers. People rode on the roof and hung to the sides. I thought the situation comical at first, and then twenty minutes in, I began to feel claustrophobic and sick. I was literally wedged between a shifting assortment of knees, feet and elbows.

The ferry over
Little kids at play
A pick-up taxi
Thomas rides
Small mosque
Once we got off, it did not look like we were in a town. So we walked. At one point I decided to make a right, thinking it would take us to the river. My intuition proved to be correct. We wandered up to a bunch of huts on stilts. Some boys were playing on the muddy riverbank, and local men sat in boats chatting and chewing betel nut. One of these guys called us over and asked if we wanted a ride. I said, "sure," and he started up the motor. 15 minutes on the river took us to a dock. I had no idea where we were. The shoreline was wooded and I saw no buildings. But the dock led to a path which took us to some huts and a fish farm. This was the home of our would-be guides. The men showed us how they fed the fish, and then cut coconuts from the trees. I had the inside milk which tasted a bit like flat Sprite.


Muddy boys
Boat time
Village home
Cutting coconuts
On the river
After they returned us to where we had started, Thomas and I gave them four bucks for their troubles. We then had noodles at a small stand, checked out a temple, and found the center of town. Tourists were sparse, and the locals friendly and productive. Twente was the real Myanmar. There, a simple, calm way of life persisted against the tides of change, but for how much longer I wondered.


Hut 
Back to Yangon
Night market
Coconut dog
Inle Lake

Some 500km (14 hours by bus) north of Yangon is Shan State, a region famous for Inle Lake. The lake has become a major tourist draw in recent years. Thomas and I did not have a reservation upon our arrival in the town of Nuang Shwe. It took us a while to find a hotel with vacancy. The problem is that in Myanmar a place must be properly licensed by the government to host foreigners, and there were barely enough licensed hotels nearby to handle the influx of tourists in peak season. Sometimes I like to flatter myself as a rough and tough traveler who often braves the unbeaten path, but then I visit a place like Inle Lake and realize I'm no different than all the rest. There were obese middle-aged couples, old couples in matching khakis, families with small children, fashionable young adults, and every other type of tourist imaginable. 

Looking for a hotel
More alms
For a small fee a tourists can get a boat with a guide. The lake tour includes stop at a market, floating gardens, monastery, temples, weaving shop and so on. Our group was rather lazy, and we skipped out on most the local attractions. But what we did see, I was impressed by. The local people live in houses on the water that are up on stilts, and they subsist largely off the land. Tourism has certainly had its impact though. Several of the people in the region are out for quick cash, yet they are not aggressive about it like in Vietnam or Cambodia. And I imagine during most the year the number of tourists trickles down to the point where the locals can go about their business without concerning themselves over their presence. I heard that in summer during the rainy season the area is not even accessible because the national highway network becomes flooded. Meanwhile, the level of the lake rises a meter and power outages are frequent.


Inle Lake fishermen
Temple on the lake
Marketplace 
Sorting threads
Happy to weave
Many boats
Stupas
Sundown
We spent the New Year's evening in Nuang Shwe at our hotel. The owner threw a party for his staff and the hotel guests were welcome to join in. This meant free food for everyone. But with all the beer we bought from the bar, I'm sure the hotel turned a profit. Nearby was a restaurant that the staff managed to turn into a night club. I went along with some of the other guests but was not feeling well. The local food had by then upset my stomach, and I wanted only to rest in my room. But it was New Year's so I decided to tough it out until the countdown. Unfortunately, at the turn of the hour I was on the toilet and missed out on the fun.


New Year's party
Dancing
Hot spring the next day
On the road
Mandalay

From Shan State, Thomas and I took another bus to Mandalay. That is the second largest city in Myanmar and the central hub of the north. However, the city is more in the center of the country, whereas the far north is a mountainous region that is not under complete governmental control. For over sixty years rebel groups have fought the ruling military junta with several human rights violations occurring on both sides. But in recent times the military has loosened its authoritative grip and sued for peace in some regions. The recent political move towards democracy also helped improve the situation as well. Such efforts have strengthened Myanmar's relationship with foreign powers, and the economy is expected to take off in the near future as investors move in. 

Bus troubles
Having visited both Mandalay and Yangon, Mandalay is the more impressive of the two.  The layout is a grid with numbered streets and evenly spaced blocks. To the west is the Irrawady River. A large moat and palace take up the center, and on the north side is Mandalay Hill. Otherwise the city is wide open and featureless. In Yangon there is a ban on motorbikes, but this is not the case in Mandalay. Motorcyclists weave through slower traffic, and the hum of their motors is a common sound. Perhaps this is the reason Mandalay feels more full of spirit. The people also live by more modest means. Many lack running water at home and gather midday around public wells to bathe and wash clothes. Among other things, I noticed that once away from the main roads, the city blocks have the feel of little villages where children play in the roads and the adults fan themselves in the shade.

Palace moat
Gasoline by the liter
For a day trip, Thomas and I went to the river to take a boat upstream to Mingun. The small town is known for a large brick temple that has over the years taken a beating from earthquakes. A giant crack on the front side, for example, sticks out like an unsightly scar. As soon as we were off the boat Thomas and I made for the opposite end of the village away from all the tourists. But there was little to see apart from huts and fields. Thus, we doubled back and approached the temples. A guy tried to charge us a tourist fee when we came near. We didn't pay, and instead snuck through some gardens to bypass him. According to travel guides most the taxes and fees collected from tourists go to the government which misappropriates the money. So it is best to not pay when possible.


Irrawady River
No docks
Oxen taxi
Brick edifice
White temple
Next to Mandalay is another city called Amarapura. It has temples, markets and many sights, of which the most remarkable is a long teak bridge called U Bein. Over a kilometer long, the bridge spans the width of a shallow lake.  In the late afternoon the sun bathes the water in gold, and our hotel staff recommended we go at that time. They even called us a taxi.  When we arrived around 4:30pm, the bridge was packed with locals and tourists. Thomas and I went up and walked its length. By the time we reached the far end the sun was low on the horizon. I got off the bridge and followed the edge of the lake to a place where I could take a nice sunset shot. We then lingered some in the twilight of dusk. The air was warm, and the murky smell of mud and plant life came up from below carried by a light evening breeze.


U Bein Bridge
Walking along
Beautiful sunset
Fishing
Perfect Reflection
Whenever I visit a city I make an effort to walk the streets to get a feel for the local scene. In Mandalay, Thomas and I went from our hotel to Mandalay Hill which at a brisk pace would have taken an hour. However, we took our time. We avoided the main avenues and cut through quaint neighborhoods on pothole ridden roads that had likely not been paved in over a decade. As I meandered along I waved to the locals and smiled. They waved back, and the kids pointed and giggled. Though foreigners are not an unusual sight in Mandalay, I imagined few if any ever passed through such parts of the city.


Obligatory street shot from hotel
Traditional dress
Washing at the public well
Unexpectedly, we came upon a large crowd. An MC was speaking through a loud speaker system, and music played between his announcements. Once we drew close I saw that the locals were staging a type of competition. Two men at a time mounted a thick bamboo pole, and they swung sacks full of rags at one another. The first one to fall off into a stack of hay below was the loser. The MC noticed us and asked if we wanted to join. We were all for it. So Thomas went first. He won the best of three rounds versus a local, and the crowd cheered him. When it was my turn, I won as well. As a prize they gave us longyis. Those are a kind of skirt that Myanmar women and men wear. A nearby proprietor then offered us food at his restaurant. We had already eaten. In the end he insisted we at least have a beer.

Fighting for pride
Cute spectators
Thomas' prize
The Gods are good
When Thomas and I finally resumed our walk to Mandalay Hill, we suspected our opponents had thrown the matches. If so, it was a kindness to us foreigners, to make us look and feel good. The Myanmar people really are that wonderful. A half hour later we reached the hill and walked up a long staircase to the top. A temple complex offered a 360-degree panoramic view of the city. Tons of tourists crowded the area. To avoid the crowds Thomas and I went down a bit to a quieter area and sat on a bench. There we watched the sun set to the west opposite the Irrawady River.

Atop Mandalay Hill
Looking down
The view
Pyin Oo Lwin

The last part of the country we visited was a mountain town called Pyin Oo Lwin. To get there we took a rickety train that passed through rough, green terrain. The ride was so bumpy I worried that the train might jump the track. Fortunately, we arrived safe and sound, checked into a hotel and after that rented bicycles. 8km to the south was a waterfall hidden within a narrow valley. It was a good ways off the main road, and moreover, a sweaty hike from the nearest point of vehicle access. A local woman volunteered to guide us down the windy trail. I had no idea what to expect, and was blown away when we came to the waterfall. The huge torrent of water had such a heavy flow that it blasted a column of cold, misty air a hundred meters outward. The guide led us to the top too. The drop was quite abrupt. I went right to the edge. A slight misstep would have resulted in certain death, yet there I stood, alive and breathing, a marvel of nature beneath me.


Into the mountains
Jungly outside
A brief stop
Mysterious guide
Big Waterfall 
Monk soccer
In Pyin Oo Lwin lived an American with his Thai wife. He ran the finest restaurant in town, The Golden Triangle, which offered a sweet local brew. Unsurprisingly, the man also owned a coffee farm nearby. He had set it up without permission and bribed the necessary officials when they came complaining. For 15 years, Myanmar had been "home" he said. Out of curiosity I asked him if he had any intention of returning to America.

"I left in '67," he replied. " And every year since it's gotten worse over there. I tell you, America is now a police state masquerading as a democracy--no different than here. The one difference is Myanmar is on an economic rise. And America...well, its day has come and gone."

I took that to mean, "no."

The way the man spoke seemed odd to me. He was sometimes almost ranting. Once Thomas and I sat at our own table to eat, the man resumed reading a British newspaper while sipping coffee at his large booth near the entrance. I imagined him parked there everyday, a big bellied king without a crown, the restaurant his castle. During our meal Thomas and I decided that Western expats who spend too much of their lives overseas inevitably end up as weirdos. They are caught between cultures and as a result develop personalities which are resilient. And at the same time these expats think they got it all figured out, taking pride in their uniqueness, which in turn gives them an overblown ego. The American was the prime example on which we based our conclusion.


Busy market
Meat
Another mosque
Shan village
The last thing I did in the Pyin Oo Lwin was get a haircut. I had planned to do so at the beginning of the trip in Yangon but forgotten. So when I came upon the dim, dingy barber shop I knew it was time. The problem was the barber did not know any English. I used gestures to give him an idea of what I wanted. But as he started cutting I feared he had misunderstood. He also had me turned away from the mirror so I could not see what he was doing. The man did not even use electric clippers. Everything was done by hand. My worrying got to the point where I figured I could shave it all off once I got back to Japan.  He finally finished and I had a chance to scrutinize my hair from every angle. I was delighted. The final cut was impeccable. Not knowing what to pay him, I handed over a large bill. The change I got back was much more than expected. It had only cost 60 cents in local currency. With a nod and a smile, I gave him double as a tip.


Haircut in progress
Conclusion

Myanmar for me was the last stop off in a series of trips to South East Asia. I have absolutely no desire to return to that part of the world for several years. And so my eyes shift towards a different horizon. Central Asia perhaps? The Islands of the South Pacific? Or maybe it's time I revisit Europe.

I am at the crossroads now, and each turn is equally attractive.