Consumerism taken to a new level of depressing

Ah, the Japanese Costco. Who really needed to know it actually existed? I deign to shop at a store I believe is single-handedly responsible for the obesity "epidemic" in America. Well, I guess we can't kid ourselves; we have many corporate fast food players to thank for putting their hands into our cookie jars and force feeding us crap by means of compounded advertising and brain warpage.

And the system doesn't rise and fall within it's own walls. It's spread to the far east...to a land where there isn't a word yet for "obesity", but enough Super Big potato chip bags to fulfill any consumer fantasy that they are shopping at an "authentically" American store. The only thing that makes sense about the exorbitantly excessive amount of food that can be packaged and purchased at once is the discount you're getting. In Japan, all the American brands are imported and therefore more expensive than what you would pay for half the amount in America.

There were sordid couples arguing over which package of 10 lb. processed nitrates to poison their biracial children with. I overheard other geeky foreigners explaining to their unassuming Japanese wives the benefits of frozen food and how getting a year's stockpile was such a useful idea. The insanity!

Of course, there were the generic Costco baked goods that made me squeamish thinking of how in both the US and Japan they can produce the same exact pastries in that industrial nightmare of a kitchen back there. I curse the day I put one of those blueberry muffins to my lips and swallowed--like the sweet, deluded venom of a viper, it will kill me quicker than the Kool Aid at Jonestown.

But, everyone in Japan has seemed to have taken a cultish oath to consumerism. And, like in the US, Costco is the zenith of that promise to a higher possession of your soulless patronage. They did have tortilla chips and salsa, and as previously mentioned, I'd give my left arm for any kind of Mexican food, even a knock off Pace Picante...G-d save me.

From the makeshift Japanese kitchen of an amateur foreign cook

Sometimes when I watch Top Chef, I pretend to know what they're talking about. All these intricate culinary processes, these unknown cuts of meat and ways to flavor it, these French cooking terms I thought I would understand by default after studying the language for 11 years. I guess the sheer confusion of it all is what makes it entertainment. However, on the real side of life, Japanese cooking has been proven to be not only simple, but deliciously healthy.

Bear in mind, the frame of reference I have is an American one, with no formal training in cooking other than from my mother's kitchen. So, of course, the simplest of dishes is intriguing to me. But, in an attempt to domesticate and assimilate to Japanese living, I'd like to put my makeshift Leopalace kitchen to good use.

From the few meals I've shared with Japanese friends at their home, I've picked up some basic cooking tips in order to prepare a simple, yet savory meal. Now, when I go to the store, I've at least taste-tested a few of the foods I would otherwise be clueless about.

First, a rice based meal. Any poultry, fish or meat can easily compliment the loved and ubiquitous starch staple. Plain, unseasoned, white short-grain rice is the popular choice. It is always served steamed and fresh. From this base, a curry or sweet and sour sauce can be added to the meat or fish to flavor. But, mostly, the Japanese prefer the plain, subtle taste of rice, which is good for every culinary occasion.

Another, more regionally-specific dish that is effortless and enjoyable is Akashiyaki. Known in the suburb of Kobe, Akashi, which is famous for its oceanside brimming with octopus, these bite-sized balls require only four ingredients: two types of flour, egg and octopus. The best part is actually frying the little balls up. A metal hot plate with little scoops for batter and octopus are oiled and heated and then with a flip of a chopstick, the lightly-fried golden balls can be adjusted to cook the other half. Then, with a bit of not-so-fancy shaping, these homemade delights look like they came from a professional shop. Soak them in a shallow bowl of bonito soup with finely chopped green onion and you have the Japanese version of Easy-bake Akashiyaki. Oishii!

Cultural Cargo

As the name suggests, the Kobe Biennale is an art exhibition that takes places every other year. Autumn is a time where Japan takes particular mention to culture, especially that of international acclaim. Kobe, as it is historically known to do, opens its ports to manifest a sense of global culture and absorbs the creativity of its own local artists.

Taking place in three separate venues: Meridien Park, Hyogo Prefectural Museum of Art and the Port of Kobe, there lies a convergence of artistic vision and inspiration to a city that, only a decade ago, was devastated by the destruction of the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake. In the presence of an endless blossom of new art and culture, it stimulates the community to feel a revival of cosmopolitan living and a celebration of the "wa".

"Wa" means peace and is often adopted into all facets of Japanese society. There is an underlying understanding and respect of peace that I often feel Americans should have a better understanding of. However, to another extreme, Japanese "wa" may sometimes limit individual creative potential for the fear of being perceived as too autonomous.

Without the comfort of this higher power "wa", Japanese might feel in constant fear of an individual's unpredictable actions which compromise this balance and distort life into dissent.

For this reason, "wa" was somewhat of a lackluster theme, which didn't really permeate any of the installations. Displayed in separate cargo holds scattered around the seaside park, a sundry of artistic works were distinctively enticing and exhibited a variety of modern art.

As a foreigner, it is difficult to obtain any sort of written intentions of the artist. Of course, the placards next to the display provide a certain insight that would be more than helpful to understand. However, there is a dignified sense of true artistic freedom in accepting the work completely for the work alone.

In the 1950's a group called the New Critics piqued interest of the masses by their unique literary criticism that evaluated a work of art void of any extra-textual information, including the biography of the writer or artist themselves. While difficult to survey art in this sense, it provides a depth of understanding, complexity and even mystery. By default, foreigners with the disadvantage of illiteracy are somewhat stuck with this method of criticism, but nonetheless, it is a bold attempt to understand the willful artistic gesture of another culture unknown.

Some highlights of the exhibit:

An Escher-esque oragami room.

Fun with 'fetti and fans
An ode to otaku or those bemused by a Japanese sub-culture that pays homage to anime, manga and strange, sexual fetish.

Galaxy quest and a 3-D silhouette.

Bang for your buck bonus is that your 1,200 yen ticket is valid for two non-consecutive days so that you can visit other portions of the Biennale exhibit depending on your artistic curiosity and thirst for some good, creative cargo.

Batten the Hatches

A storm's a-comin! Typhoon Melor!

Unstrapped

If I were a robber, Japan would be my Candyland. As a predominately cash-based society and with an unparalleled consumerism that makes even Americans look like conservative spenders, Japanese malls, convenient stores and pretty much anywhere else that financial transactions take place are packing tons of unprotected cash.

For gun control lobbyists, Japan is a dream come true. The law is simple: no one can bear firearms or swords under any circumstance. The only people allowed to possess a weapon at any time are police and the military. With one of the world's lowest crime rate and the gun crime rate nearly nonexistent, anti-gun lobbies tout Japan as the kind of nation America could be.

While Japan could be considered a parallel universe in comparison to America, I don't think gun control is what keeps the crime rate low--it's people control. Japanese society is kept on a tight leash by the government and the police force. Questioning personal freedoms and basic rights is rare, which is a basic motivator American's thrive on. The Japanese criminal justice system bears more heavily on a suspect than any other system in an industrial democratic nation.

Partly because the Japanese are so unified and homogenous, they accept and internalize social controls. It is this attitude of obedience and impulse control that matters most in the low Japanese crime rate. Guns or not, the Japanese are simply the world's most law-abiding people.

What interests me more about the lack of citizen-held weaponry in Japan is how it affects the people's system of worry. For most humans, our basic motivators for survival are the same. We think primitively about the safety and health of ourselves and our families, and the threat of gun violence or robbery is definitely something the majority of Americans have at least an inkling of worry about. We can't leave our doors unlocked or walk onto a crowded bus without double checking our pockets to make sure nothing's been picked.

But, in Japan, this type of threat doesn't exist. So, in turn, Japanese have more than enough time to worry themselves over other daily occurrences, that to an American, may seem trivial in the grand scheme of survival.

Even so, as long as my biggest concern is preventing myself from getting a curable disease (H1N1) and too much sun, I'll enjoy this gunless utopia and revel in the fact that I can walk home late at night without fear.

Umbrella Etiquette

Rain or shine, it's parasol time. In Japan, umbrellas or parasols are one of the most fashionable and widely used accessories. Whether it's shielding the smoldering summer sun or from a tsunami-style downpour, umbrellas are ubiquitous. And on crowded city sidewalks or even the less trodden ones, sometimes they pose as more of an obstacle than ornament.

It's been raining recently and so the union of umbrellas are in full effect. Of course, I am using one as well and attempting to awkwardly maneuver between these rotund, mobile awnings. But, there must be some sort of code to this sunshade labyrinth in which, of course, I am unaware. I am side stepping left and right, tilting my atypically black 'brelly between people, dumping rain droplets in droves across my shoulders. I feel for my own well-being as well as others, but I have little to no solution other than keeping pace with the person in front of me, never over-taking his lead, or just having my way with the sidewalk and barreling through with no concern for wetness. Alas, I just keep trekking through the puddles until a parasol-free zone presents itself.

I admire the parasols made for sunshade. They are often designed with dainty embroidery, sweet floral patters or delicate pastels. I also enjoy the rain umbrellas; those plastic ones that make pelting rain look like a pattern in itself. But, overall, the functionality of an umbrella is a nuisance. They basically add the dimensions of an obese person to the average Japanese. I guess we can consider heavy umbrella use as damage control for future generation McDonald's lovers and thank the corporation for finally posting some nutrition facts.