Gil Asakawa's Nikkei View | japanese
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Rufus, our black and white mutt cat, when he was younger a triple Maneki Neko, for triple the good fortune On our recent trip to LA, and a previous trip to San Francisco, I've been obsessed with buying various versions of the Maneki Neko, the iconic Japanese cat statues with upraised paw, holding on to a gold coin with the other paw. "Maneki Neko" translates literally to "welcoming cat," and its paw beckons to people in the Asian style, palm out and fingers moving down to say "yo! come here!" I grew up seeing these cat statuettes everywhere in Japan, so they're a part of my childhood memories. I always liked seeing them in Japaneses businesses here in the U.S. But in recent years, the Maneki Neko, which is supposed to bring good fortune, wealth (if the right paw's raised) or more customers (if the left paw's raised), has become a familiar site at all sorts of Asian businesses from Korean restaurants to Asian gift stores and souvenir shops. There are a dizzying array of neko styles, shaoes and sizes. I keep buying tiny porcelain ones, but this time in LA, I had to have a silly plastic one that's solar-powered with three cats -- one large one and two kittens -- whose heads bob back and forth. Some solar powered ones wave their paws, but something about the bobbing heads makes me smile, so I have it on my cube wall at the office.

In Japan, people wear face masks as matter of courtesy when theyWhen President Obama officially declared the 2009 H1N1 outbreak a national emergency over the weekend, I thought, "good. Now it'll force Americans to wear masks when they're sick, or if they don't want to get sick, like in Japan. The Japanese (and other people throughout Asia) have always worn face masks to prevent the spread of illness. It's partly out of personal interest -- so they won't have to breath in allergens, pollutants or other peoples' yucky germs. But it's also out of plain politeness and consideration -- to keep your own damn germs to yourself. H1N1, or as lots of people still call it, Swine Flu, is the first time in my memory in the U.S. that everyone is being reminded of simple ways to stay healthy with hygiene (wash your hands often) and even told how to sneeze or cough (into your elbow). At my office building, hand sanitizer dispensers have magically appeared everywhere from the lobby to the bathrooms. And, there are signs and poster everywhere, including on the door to the bathroom and on the paper towel dispenser in the bathroom, with diagrams showing people how to sneeze into their elbows, and to wash their hands. I always thought it was gross when someone sneezed or coughed into their hands, which was what our parents taught us when we were told to "cover your mouth," but then extended their hand in greeting.

Kabuki is one of the most dynamic and interesting theatrical forms in Japan.Like any school kid, I loved going on field trips when I was young, But, since we lived in Japan until 3rd grade, my earliest memories of field trips weren't the typical ones that American kids remember. I remember looking out of a school bus and seeing steaming lumps of sticky rice being pounded into mochi for New Year's celebrations, for example (I think we were on the way to a shrine where we learned about Oshogatsu, or Japanese New Year, traditions). And, I have a distinct memory of going from Green Park Elementary School, on a U.S. Army base in Tokyo (it's no longer there), to a grand old theater in the heart of Tokyo to see a form of traditional Japanese theater, kabuki. A lot of Americans probably know the word "kabuki" because it's been used for restaurants and hotels and other products. Like "Sukiyaki," "Mikado" and other words, they've become shorthand for "something Japanese." But many Americans who've heard the word probably don't know that kabuki is a cultural treasure in Japan, an artform dating back to the early 1600s that's a bit like a mix of stylized Chinese opera and melodramatic Western-style opera. The Japanese government is hoping to change that, and make more Americans aware of the traditions of kabuki. They're sponsoring a U.S. tour of a lecture/performance called "Backstage to Hanamichi," starring two of Japan's kabuki masters, Kyozo Nakamura and Matanosuke Nakamura (no relation) from the world-renowned Shochiku Company. Denver gets its introduction to kabuki this Saturday, Oct. 24, at the June Swaner Gates Concert Hall at Denver University, 2344 East Iliff Ave. (303-871-7720 for the box office). The performance costs $25. I have vivid memories from my childhood field trip:

Coca Cola just introduced Coke with Green Tea in Japan.Consumer culture in Japan is where you'll see the collision of Asian and American tastes. More than in the U.S., Japan is where East mashes West. You can get shrimp Filet-o-Fish sandwiches at McDonald's, or pizza with seaweed or squid, and spaghetti with salty plum sauce. So I supposes I shouldn't be dismayed at the new Coca-Cola flavor, Green Tea Coke. After all, here in the states there seems to be a growiing market for almost anything with green tea added, from soap and shampoos to Lipton Ice Tea and Starbucks' Matcha Latte. But Coke with green tea? I'm not much of a Coke fan (Pepsi's the choice if I have a cola at all), so I don't care that much about the purity of the soft drink. But it seems heresy to put green tea into the syrupy sweetness. Can you even taste the subtle bitterness? This fits right in with conversations I've had recently with (non-Asian) co-workers about Lipton's green tea flavored ice tea. I pointed out that Asians don't sweeten their tea.

The Asakawa family circa 1960 in Hokkaido, Japan: (from left) George, Gary, Gil and Junko (stranger in front). I was born in Japan, so I can say this with a straight face: I'm becoming a born-again Japanese, and it's kinda fun. For years now, Erin and I have thought of ourselves as Asian American first, and Japanese American second. Mostly, it's because we're interested in and feel a kinship with other Asian Americans, whether their heritage is Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean, Thai, Hmong, Indian, Filipino, whatever. We certainly have immersed ourselves in the local Asian American Pacific Islander community, through being involved in events such as the Colorado Dragon Boat Festival, the AAPI Heritage Month Community celebration, the (now defunct) Aurora Asian Film Festival, Miss Asian American Colorado Leadership Program, Asian American Journalists Association and others. Erin spent six months last year serving as editor of the feisty little local pan-Asian magazine, Asian Avenue. It's wonderful to feel a part of a larger community within which we share lots of cultural values and appreciate the various cuisines. We've become friends with and learned about Asians across many borders, and generations from immigrant gens to very Americanized. It's also partly because the Japanese community in Denver is small, and insular, and tribal, and ... well, small. It's not like LA or San Francisco or Seattle or New York, where there are lots and lots of JAs to hang with, as well as tons more AAPIs in general. We just felt too constricted sometimes by the local community. But lately, I've found myself being among Japanese, and enjoying it.

Woodblock illustration of hara kiri, or the ritual suicide practiced in feudal Japan.The furor over bonuses given by AIG to employees after taking more than $170 billion in bailout money from the U.S. government is made all the more furious because of the sheer breathtaking scale of the cash flow. AIG paid 73 staffers more than $1 million, with one getting $6.4 and seven more getting $4. Those amounts seem so out of kilter with the state of the economy, and the fact that just months ago, the giant company was about to crash without a hand up from the government -- from us -- that it's not surprising that citizens as well as lawmakers are screaming bloody murder. But one lawmaker is screaming bloody suicide. The Washington Post (among other media) reported that Sen. Charles Grassley (R-Iowa) wanted AIG execs to commit hara kiri, or seppuku -- the traditional Japanese ritual suicide often depicted as an honorable course of action from samurai times.
Sen. Charles Grassley suggested in an Iowa City radio interview on Monday that AIG executives should take a Japanese approach toward accepting responsibility by resigning or killing themselves. "Obviously, maybe they ought to be removed," the Iowa Republican said. "But I would suggest the first thing that would make me feel a little bit better toward them if they'd follow the Japanese example and come before the American people and take that deep bow and say, I'm sorry, and then either do one of two things: resign or go commit suicide." Grassley spokesman Casey Mills said the senator wasn't calling for AIG executives to kill themselves, but said those who accept tax dollars and spend them on travel and bonuses do so irresponsibly.
When I first heard about this, my jaw clenched but I let it pass. Seppuku was a historical reality for centuries, after all, and it's depicted in lots of Japanese pop culture, including movies and books. It's been documented as a reflection of one of Japan's driving cultural values, shame.

Special ramen at Taki I'm having leftovers for lunch as I type. Really good leftovers: ramen from Taki's Restaurant, an inventive, unique and funky dive of a Japanese joint on E. Colfax Avenue and Pennsylvania in downtown Denver's Capitol Hill district. It a block from the state Capitol, and three blocks from my office. Ramen is relatively new to Taki's. The restaurant usually serves udon, the thick Japanese noodle, or soba, the thin but brittle Japanese buckwheat noodle. The owner, Hisashi "Brian" Takimoto, who usually just goes by "Taki," (I call him "Taki-san" out of respect but he's too unassuming to think he deserves an honorofic and seem embarrassed by it, just began buying fresh-made and packaged ramen noodles from a company in California, and now offers it as an option. We've been in an unrequited ramen mood for weeks. We'd heard that a new spinoff in Boulder of the great Amu (our current fave Japanese restaurant and itself a spinoff of Sushi Zanmai next door) called Bento Zanmai on the University Hill served ramen during certain hours. But we tried twice to go there and the place was closed. I checked a short list of area Japanese restaurants that serve ramen, and the only two candidates I found were in Longmont, a small town northeast of Boulder. The one place in the area thar's known for noodles, Oshima Ramen in southeast Denver, had fallen off our list over the years for being expensive, less tasty than when it opened over a decade ago, and recently, kinda dirty (never mind Westword's surpisingly naive rave "Best of Denver 2008" award). Hisashi Takimoto has operated his restaurant for 20 years.We'll make it to Bento Zanmai someday -- they serve ramen only from 3-6 pm weekdays, and from 11am-3 pm Saturdays (they close at 3 on Saturdays!) -- but for now, I've been so desperate I made a package of instant ramen at home one night last week. It actually hit the spot. So when we decided at stop at Taki's for a bite the other night after attending a reception hosted by the Consul-General of Japan to mark the birthday (Dec. 23) of Emperor Akihito, we were jonesing. When taki came out front to greet us, we accosted him: "When are you going to start serving ramen?" "I can make it for you," was the reply. We almost kissed his feet. Well, not really. Have you ever looked at the shoes of anyone who works in the kitchen of a restaurant? Gross. It turns out he'd just started serving ramen as a daily special. They'd stopped for the evening but he boiled some noodles for us anyway, and it was a real treat.

Erin, Jared and I ate at a Benihana restaurant recently, and then learned just a couple of days later that Rocky Aoki, the founder of the Benihana chain, had died. I wrote about my experience growing up eating at Benihana for special family occasions, and how in recent years, the restaurant only has one connection to being a Japanese eatery: its food. The staff at the one we go to, for instance, used to have one Japanese woman chef, which was a rarity in the entire company, but she's been gone a couple of years now. The waitstaff and cooks are all non-Japanese, and as far as I can tell, the chefs are all Latino. They love to tell jokes about how they serve "Teri-juana" sauce (get it? Tijuana, teriyaki?). They no longer are sent to Japan to train with master chefs like they used to decades ago. But they are all trained well as entertainers, and come up with some amazing tricks with their knives, throwing food around and catching the morsels. The food's still good, which is why we go from time to time... probably once a year, if that. (YouTube has a lot of videos of dinners at Benihana, including the one above, of a birthday celebration. Most evenings at the restaurants are interrupted by the clatter of multiple birthday celebrations.) The diners likewise are no longer Japanase or JA families. The diners are almost all white; a couple of weeks ago, we were the only Asians in the room.