Day 8 - Tokyo, Kabuki, and Shinjuku
I wake up later than I intend. Instead of catching the 7:40 train, I have to catch the 9:23 train. This makes my arrival in Tokyo 2 hours later than intended, arriving at my hostel around 1:00 pm. Compared with the subway in Kyoto, the Tokyo underground is an inescapable maze. In Kyoto, I had to worry about, at most, three different railways within a single station. In some Tokyo stations, there are 5-6. The layout is not intuitive for an outsider, and I immediately find myself frustrated, trying to get to a particular stop. I eventually get to Jimbocho, a station equidistant to my hostel and the bookstore district (That’s right, Tokyo has an entire DISTRICT devoted to bookstores). I stumble around, getting lost on the streets while finding my hostel.
I eventually work my way back to the corner of two main streets, then head south, where my hostel should be. After exploring the side streets, backpack heavy on my shoulders, I finally find Sakura hostel. I check in, get a subway pass, and make my way to Yasakuni-jingu. I don’t have much time to explore today, since I have tickets to a kabuki show at 6 pm. I walk up the path leading to the shrine, and unexpectedly find an antique flea market in progress. I walk among the old jewelry, Buddha statues, mandalas, candles, playing cards, nude magazines, and other random knickknacks. I don’t buy anything, but make my way toward the shrine itself.
Yasakuni-jingu is an extremely controversial shrine within Japan. Supposedly, the souls of the fallen soldiers in World War II are enshrined here. When a politician makes a public trip to the shrine, it is often seen as a symbol that the politician wants to make Japan more militaristic. Often, the politician in question has proposed—or is accused of wanting to propose—removing Article 9 of the Japanese constitution. Article 9 states that says, in part, “the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes.” Clearly, the constitution had heavy American influence when it was written, and the interests of my home country were against Japan having an active military so soon after a way ended. However, they do have a self-defense force, which works as a de facto military. It is more like an amazingly large national guard. Japanese sentiment is largely against getting involved in war, since almost any war brought to foreign soil has ended in disaster for Japan. This tradition expands back further than the 20th century, all the way back to Empress Jingu, who ruled from about 200 C.E. to 269 C.E (These dates are speculative, and come from a colored ancient history record called the Nihon Shoki).
Given the politicized position of this famous shrine, I figured I out to visit. I see the giant gate, built of steel, larger than any other that I’ve seen, though the gate was built much more recently. It looks very similar to other Shinto shrines that I’ve visited, but definitely has a different feeling surrounding it. To beat the heat, I go inside a museum that houses a fighter plane, a land cannon, and a few other trinkets from WWII. I find myself fascinated with the equipment, but also morally conflicted. These instruments, if they are originals and not replicas, were likely used to kill Americans. Looking at the preservation and glorification of these instruments of death, I find myself playing the hypocrite. I’ve looked at several hundred American war planes, aircraft carriers like the U.S.S. Missouri, and more, and yet I’ve never had the thought that these instruments killed people. Somehow, the museum helps distract the visitor from these horrific tragedies. Not wanting to think any further about these items, I move onto the gift shop. Here, I come across a plethora of standard items that I’ve seen across gift shops in various cities. I lose interest quickly, and make my way to the bookshop district.
Oh, if only I could fluently read Japanese. This place would be my heaven. There are used bookstores, specialty bookstores, and stores devoted to accessories for as far as I can see, broken up only by the occasional restaurant. I dash in and out of several of them, unable to browse the majority of the material. In all honestly, I am looking for more book covers, as I discussed in a previous post. After leaving a children’s bookshop, I come into the least expected shop I could have imagined. I walk in and immediately notice that there are only males in this store. I then look at the shelves and notice that I am inside of a porno magazine/DVD rental place. As soon as I realize where I am, I book it out of the store and back out onto the street corner, more wary of which places I enter.
I check the time on my FitBit, and realize it is 4 pm. The kabuki show starts at 6 pm, and it is on the other side of town, so I rush back to my hostel, freshen up and change into pants and a button-down shirt, and get back on the subway. Luckily, the station where I need to exit is directly underneath the theatre. I exit, and visit some of the kabuki themed shops and restaurants that are in the station area. I find one clerk who is from Germany. I find out she is here for 6 weeks during the summer, doing an internship, and then she is going back home. I wish her the best and walk upstairs to claim my ticket. I get my ticket, but it is only 5, and the doors to the next show don’t open until 5:35 pm. I decide to grab a quick dinner, and order a bowl of sub-par kitsune soba. It fills me up, but I make a note not to come back to this particular restaurant.
Kabuki-za
Before heading into the theatre, I take in the site that is the exterior. The Globe Theatre might be the most famous playhouse in the world, but the exterior is bland and uninteresting. Kabuki-za, however, is flashy and extravagant, newly restored to its original glory. It was originally built and opened in 1889, but a restoration was finished in 2013, fixing up the theatre and building a giant tower just behind it. The exterior walls are snow white, with railing in crimson. Edges are covered with bronze plating, and a purple banner bearing a crest of a bird hangs above the entryway.
Play 1: The Earth Spider [TSUCHIGUMO]
When the doors open, I head into the theatre, and a gracious worker helps me find my seat. I rent an English subtitle guide for the double feature. Excited and ready, a pleasant ringing noise plays on the speakers, and patrons find their seats. The woven curtain, showing a purple and orange sunset around Mt. Fuji, lifts to show a court. Several monks sit facing the audience, with instruments in front of each. There are drums, a biwa player (kind of like a Japanese wooden flute), chorus singers, and about 8 samisen players. (Samisen are a three-stringed lute). The play begins, and is very interesting at first. This play is adapted to kabuki from a noh play, so it has quite a bit of deliberate, slow movements, and the style is very dramatic. I watch with anticipation as the biwa whistles, the choral line sings, and the samisen strings ring. Suddenly, the music stops, and the actors act. The dialogue is extremely repetitive and boring, but the play is filled with good music and intense action sequences. There are a few moments of genuine humor, but overall, the play is super serious.
The emperor is recovering from an illness, only to find a monk visiting his chamber in the middle of the night. In conversation with the monk, the emperor discovers that the monk is actually a spider demon! It further discovered that this demon gave the emperor his sickness in the first place. The spider demon’s goal is to kill the emperor and rule all of Japan for the demons. The spider demon jumps at the emperor, hoping to destroy him. However, the emperor is too quick, and cuts the demon deeply. Several retainers rush to the emperor’s side, hearing the disturbance in the palace. He is fine, but asks his guard to follow the trail of blood to the spiders den and kill it once and for all. The show ends in a magnificent display, the spider throwing strings of web to paralyze the 5 men fighting it, moving across the stage and slashing and fighting hard. Eventually, the guard wins, the spider is trapped and killed, and the emperor returns to perfect health.
To reiterate, the dialogue was repetitive and boring, but the music and action was great. Would still watch again. The play ends, and there is a 20 minute intermission for the next part, which is slightly longer.
Part 2: The Story about Courtesan Urazato [SATO NO UWASA YAMANAYA URAZATO]
This show was hilarious. It had more of what I expected coming to see kabuki. A retainer for a warlord, Sakai Sojuro, is a very serious man, and it not one for the debauchery and misconduct in which other retainers from other areas are so enthralled. Sakai’s colleagues spend their province’s money on gambling, courtesan, drinks, and more. Instead of meeting to discuss business during meetups, this motley crew insists on going to various bars and bathhouses to entertain themselves with their favorite courtesan. Sakai has never been involved in such manners, but is serious about discussing business. He proposes that the next meeting be held at his residence, and the other retainers laugh at him. Instead, they mock and degrade him, and let him know they already have a plan for the next meeting. They are going to introduce their second wives (i.e. favorite courtesan). Knowing that Sakai has never been in such dealings, they challenge Sakai to bring his favorite courtesan. Expecting him to show up empty-handed and alone, they hope to make a show of Sakai.
Frantic and worried, Sakai suddenly sees the most beautiful courtesan in the entire district, Urazato, passing by on a boat. Awe-struck, he knows that this is the girl he needs to bring to the next meeting to show up the others and restore his status among his peers. The rest of the play involves Sakai pursuing Urazato, not out of lust or infatuation, but solely to show that he can get a courtesan. Sakai is also faithful and devoted to his wife. This puts him in the comical situation of trying to get Urazato, but not sleep with her, but pretend in front of the others that he is.
The laughs were non-stop, and the translation screen was very good, adding the punchlines at just the right moment. I thoroughly enjoyed this play, and would love to see it again. In fact, I would love to go watch any kabuki play whatsoever. Overall, it was a great first experience.
Shinjuku
When the play ends, it is already 9 pm on a Sunday. Several shops already start to close down, but my guidebook assures me that the party will continue late into the night in Shinjuku. I board one of the dozen trains and head there. I go one train too far, and end up walking around abandoned shopping malls and Shinjuku Park. Unsurprisingly, everyone and their mother is playing Pokemon Go. Wishing I could use data in Japan, I move on and get back on the train and go back to the exit where I should have ended up. I find what I am looking for. Skyscrapers tower over the streets, flashing logos and videos and commercials. Game arcades line every few storefronts and stretch 4-5 stories tall. Remembering Pokemon Go from earlier, I climb the tower and play a quick game that is like Mortal Kombat, but for Pokemon.
I continue walking around, peeking in here and there. Eventually, all of the flashing lights overstimulate my eyes, making me realize how tired I am. However, people could tell I was alone. I was repetitively approached by several South African men who asked if I wanted to get a drink/go to a titty-bar/pick up girls. I am usually not very confrontational about situations like this, but it is clear that they are getting some kind of commission to get lonely guys into strip clubs, or they are pimps for prostitutes. I politely decline the first person, who seemed like he just wanted to have a drink. It was a fishy situation, so I said no. Then I come across another South African guy offering the same thing, and decline with more conviction. Yet another guy comes up to me and just says ‘Hey man, you wanna go to a titty bar?,’ and I say I don’t want what you are selling. A fourth man asks if I’m looking for a nice lady tonight, and I am losing my cool. I tell him to get away from me. Lastly, a fifth guy starts yelling and pestering me, and I don’t even acknowledge him in English. He comes up, giving me a similar spiel as the last 4 guys, and I just try to ignore him. He is persistent, though, so I whip out the phrase that has served me best when dealing with pesky salesmen in foreign countries. ‘Bu yao.’ (Mandarin for “I don’t want”). The Mandarin Chinese seems to throw him off his game. Seeing my opportunity to exit for the night, I leave Shinjuku.
Severely upset and feeling vulnerable, I decide to head back to JR station, only a few blocks away, so that I can catch a train back to the hostel before they close. I literally catch the very last train from Shinjuku to Tokyo station, and the last train from Tokyo station to Jimbocho, so my timing could not have been more perfect. When I get back, I change into my pajamas and pass out as soon as I plug in my phone. Tomorrow I head for Kamakura, and can’t wait to get away from Tokyo.
