During the week, people hum along under the power of the electric train system, commuting to work, walking miles through concrete jungles, working 5AM to 5PM. It's really incredible- I thought the Americans were work-a-holics (we actually do work more). I was always told the Japanese are perfectionists, obsessed by anything they cannot master immediately, always on the path of self-improvement. Even as I write this at 10PM, my host mother is reading an English dictionary and writing down words, memorizing them.
How can people live for an extended period of time like this? Well I think there are a couple of reasons. While nearly everyone lives in a large metropolis, you can see nature from almost any place in Japan. Large, smooth mountains act as the backdrop of daily life in Japan. Japanese people are comforted by them- the mountains are what they connect with more than anything and what seem to represent the people on a more deep and personal level. These people talk about their mountains nearly every day, they don't get sick of them. Also, the Japanese have made sure that large, intricate, incredibly gorgeous parks are scattered throughout their cities, and they go there to connect with nature every single weekend. The parks are quiet. They are something out of a sculpture. Every blade of grass is placed by divine message, it seems. Every stream flows in ways most pleasing to the eye, and blossoming tree orchards seem to crop up in coves around ponds and in between bamboo groves. I wonder how much of this is planned and how much of it is natural-it's nearly impossible to tell. Japanese people enjoy the beauty of nature as hard as they work during the weeks.
Last weekend, after a hard rain knocked all the Sakura blossoms off the trees and broke the hearts of all the Japanese people living in the Osaka/ Kyoto area, my family decided to take advantage of low crowds to go to some local parks.
The first Koen (park) was a ten minute drive from the house. It was a small park situated around a large pond/ small lake- similar to lakes in Wisconsin. However, this was a public park, there were no man-made structures except for the walkways- all paved. There were people from all walks of live, young families, couples, groups of divas walking around in 5 inch heels, their hair glued perfectly into the latest trend, bird watchers with camera lenses longer than their bodies, runners, cyclists, dog-walkers, anything you could imagine. The park was beautiful. The main path was two-car widths, and circled the lake and surrounding bamboo groves in about a 3km loop. The part we entered from was cool and dark, overhead trees shading out the sun.
I have noticed how natural the Japanese look in their forests. The forests here are different from America. The forests here are tinges of tan and black, deep, muddy greens. The complexion and skin color of all the people looks beautiful with the forest as a backdrop, they really do blend in and disappear- their dark hair melting into the shadows, and skin tones blending with the intermittent sunlight and tree bark. I looked at myself against the backdrop- a sore thumb. The pink tints of my skin clashed with the amber light that filtered through the trees. When some my hair got caught in sunlight, it shone gold (not sounding conceited here) in a place where there is no natural golden color. My eyes, being blue, are obviously different. Easier to see, they stand out from my face and from the background of the forest. I can't disappear into their forests, just like they wouldn't be able to disappear among the golden tassels of the cornfields in my back yard.
This shady pathway opened up to a bridge crossing a quieter part of the pond. It was shallow, and lily pads floated up on the surface of the water here. I could make out the murky shapes of frying pan-sized turtles skirting by, just underneath the surface of the water. People leaned on the railing of the bridge,smoking, resting, quietly admiring the giant coy swimming lazily underneath the bridge. It was quiet. The sun was warm on my face- it was the first truly balmy day of Spring.
We moved on to a flat, grassy area that dipped out into the lake a bit. Most of the people here were sitting on blankets on the grass. Every Japanese family has invested good money on a quality picnic set. Kids ran around in the sunshine while parents lay, relaxing. College kids all gathered in the shade of trees guffawing and sharing obento's (boxed lunches). My host mom herself pulled out a thermos from her purse and poured us each some coffee, about the size of a shot. The Japanese really do everything in moderation. We sat in the hot sun drinking our hot coffee, not feeling the need to say anything in particular, but feeling content to watch cranes swoop low over the water. So this is how Japanese people make it through their work week.
We visited a lot of different areas in the park as well. There were gardens everywhere. Most of the park was in an in between stage. All of the sakura had fallen, but the other flowers hadn't quite bloomed yet, so there was a lot of green and a lot of little budlings. Regardless, it was gorgeous. there were sticky sweet smells coming from everywhere, but the bugs hadn't made it out yet. Big, fat cats lay out on large rocks and on the paths in the gardens, homeless, but more than happy to live in this garden. I understood where they were coming from.
That brings me to another point on Japanese parks. America, whenever there is a beautiful garden, someone has painstakingly pruned and cared for it, essentially developing it into their own personal 10th wonder of the world. After it is complete and is deemed a masterpiece, the gardener then ropes it off and people admire it from a safe distance. And the garden IS beautiful. And everyone is satisfied. That's not how it works in Japan. If something looks particularly beautiful, people walk up to it, touch it, take pictures with it. Whenever I saw something beautiful in this park I would always stop and stare at it. My host family would go walk into the garden that had no designated paths to get a closer look. Naturally, I quickly embraced this way of thinking. If it is beautiful, get closer to it, figure it out. It's very neat.
