Overland

Full Frame

I enjoy writing and talking about photography. It's my passion. So when I'm out on the weekends, my camera almost always comes with me. The downside here is that these trips have taken their toll on my Nikon D5100 which is now showing signs of slowing down. It probably doesn't help that I dropped the thing three times, but whatever the reason, there is a slight delay between the time it autofocuses and snaps a shot. With a digital compact some shutter lag is to be expected but not with a DSLR. Time had come to buy another model.

The best deals for new cameras are once again in Japan thanks to the weakened yen, and the cheapest prices are found on the Internet. I did my research and ordered a full frame Nikon D600 from an outlet shop in Akihabara. Two days later it arrived on my doorstep. I signed off on the package, rushed inside, and like a giddy five-year-old on Christmas day unboxed my new toy. Mind you, this was a big step for me. Compared to my previous camera, the D600 has a larger sensor, and yes, size does matter in determining the quality of images. The change in format also required different lenses which made the upgrade an expensive one. But I wont bore you with all the technical details. Lets just say I'm happy with the new camera and am enjoying the larger viewfinder and improved performance. Together we have a bright future ahead of us.

My new baby

Super Station Master Tama

I'd like to share a story about the most unlikely of station masters. But before I get into who exactly Tama is, I feel I should provide some context. To begin with, in Japan, people live and die by the rail. The country's commuter railway network is extensive, reliable and integrated into the everyday lifestyle of most Japanese. Nowadays though the culture is experiencing a change due to how young adults are leaving the countryside to find work elsewhere. The elderly who remain don't use the train much because, you know, they are retired and have no where to be, and as a result, the small local lines in rural areas have been suffering a considerable drop off in passengers. It gets to the point where the trains lose money and the operating companies are forced to shorten or close the lines. The exception is with larger businesses like Japanese Railways (JR) which can afford to take the losses thanks to their profitable earnings in the big cities.

Plenty of passengers in the city

7 years ago the Wakayama Electric Railway Company was not in so fortunate a position. They operated a single 13.5km line in a rural area to the south of Osaka and things were looking grim. Their small and decreasing number of passengers made it so the company had to reduce staff to save on costs, and the line's stations became unmanned. It was still not enough to keep the business out of debt. A closure appeared eminent, and since it didn't seem to matter anyhow, one of the company's volunteer staff  made a cat the station master of the last stop on the line. The stray was of course Tama and she had grown up near the station, so as gimmicky as move the was, it in a way made sense.

As it turned out, the new appointment had a huge and positive impact. People in the area were simply incapable of not loving the idea of a cute cat for a station master and Tama became an overnight sensation. The Wakayama Electric Railway Company realizing what they were on to ran with it. They made Tama a little black work cap, publicized her place in the company and got the attention of the national media. The news coverage soon drew in train loads of tourists eager to see the animal. Then, after hiring a real station master, the company gave Tama the official title of Super Station Master at a naming ceremony attended by the mayor and company president. And they didn't stop there. The Wakayama Electric Railway Company began selling a whole line of related goods such as postcards, key chains, mugs and folders. They also customized one of their trains with Tama images, and went as far as to tear down Kishi Station and replace it with a building made in the cat's likeness. The new station included a cafe and gift shop, both shameless add ons meant to milk the Tama craze for every yen possible. That said, the money has been more than enough to keep the Wakayama Electric Railway Company out of the red, and the only thing the calico cat has wanted in return is canned kitty food. It's a win-win situation for everyone.

Miscellaneous goods

Tama train

Kishi Station

Well, with the passing of the years Tama has gotten older, and not too long ago the Wakayama Electric Railway Company knew they would one day need a replacement. That lead to the creation of Nitama, an apprentice cat who currently shares in the officiating duties. Now you might be wondering--what exactly does a station master cat do? It's not that complicated really. Tama and Nitama will on occasion don the station master cap and make appearances for PR purposes. Either that or they take turns lying in a bed inside a greeting booth (a glass display case) beside the station exit. Monday through Friday from 10:00 AM to 4:00 PM it's Tama in there, and on the weekend Nitama. Visitors can walk up to the case to take pictures. And they should consider themselves lucky, If by chance the station master is awake to greet a group of arrivals. Cats, after all, are lazy creatures that sleep up to sixteen hours a day.

I myself made the 90 minute trip from Osaka to Kishi Station only to find Nitama curled into an inert ball of fur. You can imagine my disappointment. I was half tempted to slap my hand against the glass to wake the thing before I noticed a vigilant old man at the gift shop register. So there I stood staring at the cat, thinking how stupid she looked, when suddenly a motorcycle tore past the front of the station. At that moment I felt the Gods of photography--the loving and magnanimous deities that they are--had intervened on my behalf. The loud noise snapped the cat out of her slumber and I was able to take 10 or so pictures before she dozed back off--the best of which is here:

Nitama the cat

Well, during the ride back to civilization, I must admit, I was full of mixed feelings. On the one hand I had accomplished what I had set out to do. I saw the cat and got photos of it, the station, and everything else. The problem was Nitama in my eyes had been just a dumb, ordinary cat ushered into a position far too good for her. Had I seen the great Tama instead, perhaps I would have felt different. But it was the weekend. And I knew what to expect going in because Tama is old and she needs her days off. Speaking of which, I took the her date of birth which was in 1999 and plugged it into calculatorcat.com's complicated feline age conversion system. It turns out Tama is already 80 in cat years! That means the beloved station master hasn't much time left. And it's understandable, what, with death coming for us all and everything. I only wish the Wakayama Electric Railway Company had chosen a better successor to replace her with.

The real deal

Halloween

America's take on All-Hallow's Eve is of course Halloween, a day in which kids wear costumes to go trick-or-treating, and for us older folk, a reason to dress up and get crazy drunk. This current iteration of the holiday is a far cry from the festivities that took place centuries ago in Europe when All-Hallow's Eve was a time to celebrate the fall harvest and remember the deceased. In its original form, the holiday would fit very well into Japanese culture because there are many fall festivals which do essentially the same thing. But the Halloween the Japanese know is from America, and they have embraced it all the same.

While trick-or-treating for kids is limited to Halloween parties or school functions, the whole dress up thing has become very popular. It is not so different from the Japanese hobby of costume play (aka cosplay) where Japanese dress up as their favorite anime, manga and video game characters. A lot of these costumes are handmade and very elaborate, and they double as excellent Halloween outfits. During the holiday season, decorations have also become commonplace. They are similar to those in America, but pumpkins remain rare because they aren't grown in Japan. That means the jack-o-lanterns people put outside are almost always those plastic abominations with the little electric bulbs.

Cosplayers at the park

Interestingly, Halloween is still a new social phenomenon for the Japanese. It has only caught on in the last five years and I've been here to witness the change. The media, I'd say, has played a part in popularizing the customs and festivities, but the main driving force behind its adoption is young people looking for an excuse to have fun. I'm now wondering if Thanksgiving will be next. I mean, what's not to like about spending time with family and partaking in a shameless act of gluttony? Moreover, it would create a much needed buffer period between the Halloween and Christmas holiday seasons. Perhaps it's only me, but I still find it quite strange that the decorations go straight to Christmas lights from the first of November.

Anyway, this past October on the the last Saturday night of the month, I went to a party at a club in Nagoya. I was the event photographer and took hundreds of pictures. In addition to my official duties I also threw back canned beers, chatted with friends, and danced like there was no tomorrow. Here's the proof:

Drinks?

Robot from FLCL anime

Hulk

We like to party

And as an added bonus I have a picture from last year's Halloween. I had made more of an effort to dress up that day because I wasn't working. The night was a good one too...well, with the exception of one unfortunate incident involving our Japanese friend Shuhei. We didn't know it at the time, but around two in the morning, he passed out in one of the the toilet stalls at the club. When we called his cell phone, he didn't pick up, so we figured he had run off with the young lady we had seen him talking to earlier. To make matters worse, poor Shuhei had forgotten his backpack in the car along with his keys. That meant when he finally did get home he had to bike to my place in the rain to get his things. I opened the door, took one look at the guy and understood that the end of his night had not turned out well. Good memories. Good memories, indeed.

Misfits

The Fourth Kind

Japan is an island archipelago composed of thousands of islands. Of those, four are the main islands (with Okinawa being the questionable fifth member of the group). The largest is Honshu. That's where you'll find the big cities of Tokyo, Osaka, Yokohama, Nagoya and Hiroshima. My first year in Japan as an exchange student in Yokohama I went from Honshu to two of the other islands, but the fourth island of Shikoku eluded me over the next seven years. That changed after I moved to Osaka. I am now only two hours away by express bus and a few weeks ago I bought a ticket and crossed over the Japanese inland sea into undiscovered territory.

The bridge over

License to thrill

The big draw for me in Shikoku has always been the pilgrimage of 88 temples. It goes back to the 9th century when the famous Buddhist monk Kukai walked around the entire island and supposedly visited the temples, doing monk things like chants and prayer. To this day the devout Buddhists of Japan follow in his footsteps. Or rather the majority drive from one temple to another because the journey on foot is no simple undertaking. It requires the average person 45 days, covers a distance of 1200km, and is costly. As for me, not being a Buddhist, I had first seen myself walking the pilgrimage to have a unique and exciting adventure. Unfortunately, the only time I could go is during my summer vacation when the weather becomes sweltering hot and has high levels of humidity. Plus it rains frequently. And let's not forget the mosquitoes, the silent and persistent bloodsuckers that they are.

Pilgrims

The general consensus is that the best season to walk the pilgrimage is in fall. If I'll ever have a chance to go then, I can't say. But that doesn't mean I couldn't do one part of the route at a time. In fact, I've already started. During my visit to Shikoku I took a bus to the first temple in Tokushima City and proceeded to follow the route. The subsequent 60km trek, however, was not the great wilderness getaway I had imagined it to be. It started and ended with me surrounded by houses and fields. I did manage to visit eleven temples though, and I would have gone further had the next stretch not been a 25km hike over a mountain. I didn't have the time to continue that far.

Pretty rural

Inside the first temple

Offerings of mugs

Route marker

Saw a load of persimmons

A temple gate

Anyhow, during my little odyssey into the rural expanses of Shikoku, three interesting things happened. First, I ran out of food. Yes, I know. That seems very unlikely because my trek through suburbia must have taken me past several convenience stores and supermarkets. The thing was the pilgrimage route stuck to narrow backstreets and country roads where there were none. So my provisions were not enough to last, and for several kilometers I was walking along, cursing myself for not packing more. Then, in a quiet, unassuming neighborhood I caught sight of a small, family-run market. The shelves inside had all the nutritional goodness I needed (ice cream, muffins, etc). But when I went to pay for my items at the register, I discovered that no one was there. I saw that the shop was attached to the side of a house and called out, "hellooooo?" into the doorway that joined them. It didn't help. Then I thought I should just leave the money and go. Another customer had entered by that point and I asked him to tell the shop owner what the money was for. After that I resumed my walk. I must have made it another 2km when a black Isuzu hatchback pulled up beside me.

The young woman behind the wheel asked, "You're the customer from before, right?"

"Yeah, I am," I replied.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there earlier," she said, extending an arm. "Here's your change."

I took the money and glanced at the amount. 52 yen. I shook my head and laughed as she drove off. The shopkeeper had actually taken the trouble to get in her car and track me down over a few coins of no practical value.

So happy I had to take a photo

The second thing that happened was not so pleasant an experience. I set up camp in a wooded area and it rained throughout the night. The following morning the ground was muddy and I had no way of cleaning off my tent. I rolled it up as so and put it and everything else into my hiking pack. I was then ready to continue on my way, but as I picked up my bag, a hideous insect crawled off of it and onto my hand. I shrieked, dropped the bag, and flung the insect onto the ground. It was a kind of centipede, and in spite of my usual live and let live attitude, I stomped its head without the slightest hesitation. You should have seen the thing. The large bug looked like a cross between a spider and grasshopper, only with a longer body and dozens of legs. I'd already come across a few of them on my hike, and I'll be honest, they gave me the heebie-jeebies. What's more, I didn't know if they were poisonous or not. In Japan, there already exists the dreaded mukade to worry about. It's a black and red centipede capable of delivering a painful bite and perhaps these other centipedes were related.

Once I returned to civilization I checked the Internet and got my answer. According to Wikipedia, the centipedes I had encountered are called house centipedes and they're harmless to humans. So now I know not to fear them anymore--and as one popular American cartoon of my childhood used to say--knowing is half the battle. As for the poor centipede I squashed, he had meant me no harm and I regret killing him. May his eternal insect soul rest in peace.

My tent

Now for the third thing. Between the 10th and 11th temples the pilgrimage route cut across a wide open area covered with nothing but cabbage patches. It was already late in the day and no one was tending them, and not many cars passed by either, so I felt quite alone. Anyhow, from the beginning of the trek I had been humming a few different songs, but now, seeing how no one would hear me, I started belting them out at the top of my lungs. No, I take that back. I sang only one song--"Reach Out" by the Four Tops. It's one of my favorites and it took me two years worth of drunken karaoke practice to get it down somewhat well. I'm by no means a good singer. I lack rhythm and timing, but with a Motown song like "Reach Out" I can mask my lack of musical talent with soul, because that I have plenty of. And man did it feel good evoking the voice of lead singer Levi Stubbs and giving it my all for the endless rows of cabbage and a few crows up in the power lines.

Levi and company

An indifferent audience

Wonderful Kyoto

In days of old the capital of Japan was not Tokyo. For a period of over 1,000 years the title belonged to the city of Kyoto. But that changed when successive warlords (aka shoguns) took control from the imperial family and sought to remove themselves from the influence and bureaucracy of the old order. To do so they moved the nation's capital. The imperial family, however, remained and endured throughout the centuries as a symbol of continuity in the ever changing political climate of Japanese history. Their legacy, unsurprisingly, is very evident in Kyoto to this day. A large number of palaces, shrines and temples fill the streets. These traditional sites are as ubiquitous in Kyoto as convenience stores are in other cities, and the original construction of many of them came at the behest or expense of the imperial line.

An emperor

What is interesting about Kyoto is that the city has escaped the catastrophes which have plagued other parts of modern Japan. For example, no major earthquake has hit the area in centuries. And during World War II, while American bomber squadrons dumped their payloads on other population centers, the military brass in charge decided to save Kyoto as a target for the atomic bomb. Their reasoning was that an undamaged area would give a better assessment of the weapon's destructive power in terms of a before and after comparison. But then stepped in the Secretary of War, Henry Stimson. He had visited Kyoto on his honeymoon prior to the war, deemed the city to be of too much cultural value to obliterate outright, and then in a total dick move, used his personal influence to doom the people of Nagasaki instead.

Fat Man

In the past, before moving to Osaka, I had been to Kyoto five times. And that got me no where close to visiting all the major sites. There is really that much to see. So my quest to photograph one of the most beautiful cities in Asia continues, and recently I made another trip. I went to Fushimi Inari Taisha, a famous place of worship for the Japanese god of rice. It is the main shrine of its type with tens of thousands of smaller versions spread across the country. They are distinguishable from other shrines because they have statues of foxes, an animal that Shingon Buddhists regard as a messenger of the gods.

Another characteristic of these shrines are pathways lined with torii. Torii are a kind of gate that symbolize the transition from the real world into the spiritual realm. Shrines have one big torii at the entrance and perhaps a few smaller ones elsewhere. Inari Shrine is unique in that it has over five thousand. They mark the ascent to the top of the mountain to the rear of the main building, and each is inscribed with the name of a person or business. The way Japanese people see it, paying for inscriptions like these will up their spiritual credibility and improve their good fortunes. The inscriptions also serve as a source of income for the shrines. They sell good luck charms and other trinkets as well, but the big money is generated by blessings. For life events such as births and weddings, Shinto priests are called in, whereas for a new house, business or a car, it's the Buddhist priests who bless those. A single blessing can cost hundreds of thousands of yen, so it is small wonder that the head priests at large temples are filthy rich. But I can't blame them really. Everyone in this world is out to make a buck one way or another.

Noble messenger

Many gates