Saturday 28 February 2009

Epic

Is this the answer to the natural vs. synthetic dilemma? Today I bought some new Almonte trousers (colour: granite) from Kathmandu. They're 100% cotton, but the fabric is treated using a technology called Epic, which supposedly makes it water resistant, windproof, and quick drying while retaining the comfort and breathability of cotton. I can't wait to test them.

Distance walked today: 0km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 57.2km
Days left until departure: 78

Friday 27 February 2009

Insurance

After hovering around the 47 yen mark for a month or so, the New Zealand dollar crawled up over 50 yen today. Still, it's got a way to go before it reaches the level it was at when Erik and I walked the Nakasendo in 2007, when I was getting around 90 yen to the dollar. In other words, it's looking like this year's trek will be nearly twice as expensive as the last one. The good news is that I have insurance. Even though I live in New Zealand, I get paid in yen.

Distance walked today: 5km
Distance walked yesterday: 7.2km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 57.2km
Days left until departure: 79

Wednesday 25 February 2009

Flying feet

When Erik and I walked the Nakasendo in 2007 we covered an average of around 26.6km a day. The greatest distance we covered in a single day was 39.2km. That longest day was tough. It was also unplanned. I made a mistake calculating the distance from Hosokute to Magome, and only realized how far it was the night before!

While overall that schedule was not too demanding physically, it left us with little time during the day to sightsee and talk to people we met along the way. With that in mind, I've put together an easier schedule for my Tokaido walk. I'll be walking an average of around 21.5km a day, and the greatest distance I'll cover in a single day (assuming my calculations are accurate this time!) will be 28.6km.

So, how does this compare with travelers in the Edo period? According to the Gokaido Walk website, people took an average of just 14 days to walk the Tokaido back then. That works out at around 35.5km a day. The longest section commonly walked in a single day was between Hamamatsu and Akasaka, which is a distance of 53.6km! Don’t forget that travelers didn't have fancy walking shoes back then. Mostly they wore straw sandals, which must have made it difficult to negotiate the numerous stretches of slippery and uneven ishidatami stone paving. Wheeled vehicles were not allowed on the Tokaido except for the short 11km section from Otsu to Kyoto. Horses were used, but mostly for carrying baggage.

The fastest things on the Tokaido were the hikyaku (literally "flying feet"), express messengers whose job it was to carry urgent official messages between Edo and Kyoto. Running in relays, they made the journey between the two cities in an incredible three days. Because they were on official government business they weren't required to stop at the many checkpoints along the Tokaido which slowed down normal travelers. Even so, 496km in three days is amazing. Incidentally, Hiroshige depicted one of these messengers in his print for Hiratsuka in the series The Fifty-Three Stations of the Tokaido.


Distance walked today: 0km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 45km
Days left until departure: 81

Tuesday 24 February 2009

Wheels


The eagle-eyed among you will have noticed a slight discrepancy in the Tokaido walking schedule I posted at the start of the month. Day 6 has me arriving in Kuwana, but my departure point on day 8 (day 7 is a rest day in Nagoya) is Miya, which is some 20 kilometres east of Kuwana as the crow flies.

No, I'm not cheating. Three rivers flow into the sea in this area, and because of the width of the river mouths and the frequent changes in water levels, it was considered too difficult to build bridges across them in the Edo period. Accordingly, most people traveled the section from Kuwana to Miya by boat.

There was an alternate inland route for people who didn’t want to travel by sea, but as this also involved traveling part of the way by boat down the Kiso River, it's not an option in 2009. So I'll be traveling between Kuwana and Miya by train. Incidentally, even if I were able to hire a boat, it would be impossible to follow the original sea route due to what looks like land reclamation along this stretch of the coast.

Distance walked today: 3km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 45km
Days left until departure: 82

Monday 23 February 2009

Hidden

Which art form reigns supreme? That's a question I gave some thought to a while back. I decided that I probably agreed with those who ranked music above the other arts on the grounds that it tends to move people more often and more deeply than other art forms. It's certainly the art form I'd least like to go without.

However, I also rate film highly. The filmmaker's task involves creating an entire alternative universe that must be completely plausible if the film is to succeed. No small feat. And perhaps why so many film directors appear somewhat authoritarian if not downright megalomaniacal, especially when working on the set. Another reason why I rate film highly is that while famous musicians or contemporary artists, for example, sometimes come across as rather shallow or uninspiring when interviewed, in the same situation leading film directors usually come across as extremely articulate and knowledgeable in a wide range of subjects.

On Saturday I watched Michael Haneke's Hidden on DVD. Among the extras were an interview with the director, an excellent "making of" which was a cut above the kind of thing you usually find among the extras on DVDs peppered with interviews in which the actors and director gush about how wonderful they all are and how delighted they are to be working together, and a revealing documentary about Haneke. The impression I was left with after watching these was of an intelligent, thoughtful, rather mild-mannered individual who, while wary of media attention and aware of the need to control how he's presented in the media, is extremely open when discussing his work in public. On the set, however, he displays glimpses of the same authoritarian style employed by other directors. To be fair, no other art form involves coordinating as many resources, both human and non-human, as filmmaking. Perhaps a degree of authoritarianism is essential if a director is to handle all this and realize his artistic vision.

The film was excellent by the way. The plot involves a protagonist whose life starts to fall apart after he's forced to recall his vile treatment as a six-year-old of an Algerian boy who was orphaned as a result of the Paris massacre of 1961. Although mentioned only in passing, this massacre, in which up to 200 peaceful Algerian protestors were killed by French police, some drowning after being violently herded into the River Seine, is pivotal to the film, which on one level is an allegory of France's treatment of the incident. The same incident was mentioned in a book I read recently, although I can’t remember which one. It might have been The Game of War.

I'm currently reading Chalmers Johnson's Blowback: The Costs and Consequences of American Empire, which includes an account of the Kwangju massacre of 1980, in which a similar number of civilians were killed by South Korean troops. It's interesting how such incidents are quickly forgotten when they occur in Western countries or countries allied to the U.S., whereas we're constantly reminded by our media and politicians of the Tiananmen Square massacre.

Distance walked today: 3km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 42km
Days left until departure: 83

Sunday 22 February 2009

We live alone

What could be more devastating than the realization that we die alone? Well, try this for size: WE LIVE ALONE!

A year or two ago I came to the conclusion not only that I don't really understand other people, but that such an understanding is impossible. Sure, people have a lot in common. We share many of the same experiences (of love, heartbreak, illness, loss, and so on). But how we deal with these experiences and how they affect our lives and our relationships with others varies greatly from individual to individual. Of course life would be boring if this weren't the case and we were all the same. But the fact that we're all so different can be alienating. But it doesn't have to be.

Near the end of a 1986 interview recorded at the Palace of Fine Arts Theater in San Francisco, Keith Jarrett was asked by a member of the audience, "Do you ever get lonely?"

"No," he replied, "because you see when you accept being alone, loneliness doesn’t exist. Loneliness is not knowing you're alone…and every once in a while wondering…if you are or not…and then thinking it's bad."

The interview is long, and it sheds a lot of light on Keith Jarrett the person. Be warned, though, that the music he plays from time to time during the interview (tapes of overdubbed improvised pieces that would eventually be released on the double album Spirits 1 & 2), while beautiful, isn't typical Keith Jarrett music (if there is such a thing). For a start, there's very little piano playing. Instead he plays a selection of other instruments - a total of 18, in fact, including flutes, recorders, and drums of various kinds.

Also, at times during the interview he comes across as rather "difficult", although I wouldn't go as far as one member of the Keith Jarrett Yahoo Group who, after listening to it, commented, "When he speaks, he's a halfwit and a windbag." After all, as I mentioned when I wrote about the Charles Bukowski documentary, Born Into This, personality flaws in artists don't concern me as long as the art they produce moves me. And that's something Keith Jarrett's music does in spades.

Distance walked today: 9.7km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 39km
Days left until departure: 84

Saturday 21 February 2009

A good rinsing

No training today, but I used yesterday's 5km walk in the rain to give my wet weather gear a bit of a workout.

The "ocean" Kathmandu Gore-Tex jacket you'll be familiar with from previous posts. I bought it back in May 2007 and wore it when I walked the Nakasendo. Apart from the leaky pockets I have no complaints about it at all.

Although the navy blue Team Stolite rain trousers I bought in July 2007 did go nicely with the jacket, they were almost completely nonbreathable. By day five of the Nakasendo walk (two of which were wet) I'd had enough of being a walking sauna and so I replaced them with some black Gore-Tex rain trousers by Mont Bell which I bought in Nagoya.

Last year I bought a waterproof/breathable Outdoor Research Nimbus Sombrero, similar to the one Erik wore on the Nakasendo walk. I've worn it a bit since then, but never in the rain. I found it so much better than a jacket hood. With a hood up, both the movement of your head and your field of vision are restricted. To be able to walk along in heavy rain and move my head to see everything around me without fear of getting wet was a truly liberating experience.

Finally, I wore by new waterproof New Balance 965 shoes, which did their job by keeping my feet dry. Overall I'm very happy with them. I think I'll wear them again on one or two long walks, but otherwise leave them alone until I begin the Tokaido walk in May. I don't want to wear them out and have to buy another pair just before I leave. I'll do most of my training in shoes I already have, including my 748s and the Keens I bought last year which, although good, don't match for comfort the New Balances I've worn over the years.


One item I didn't test out yesterday was my new Olympus µ 770 SW digital camera, which is shockproof and waterproof. It was given to Keiko by a friend in Japan who for some reason didn’t want it, and since Keiko already has a fairly new Panasonic digital camera, I've decided to take the Olympus with me when I walk the Tokaido. Apparently you can use it underwater to a depth of 10 meters, drop it from a height of over a meter, and stand on it. The manual includes instructions on how to rinse it in a bucket (see picture) to get rid of any sand or mud! So it's perfectly OK to use it in the rain, but I'm still incredibly nervous about doing so.

Distance walked today: 0km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 29.3km
Days left until departure: 85

Friday 20 February 2009

In the city

Yesterday morning I walked to the hospital to have my nose looked at by a surgeon. She was checking to see how much skin she needed to remove and where to find replacement skin. She wore this fancy headlamp that made a soft whirring sound when she turned it on, but when she went to do the measuring she pulled out an old-fashioned tape measure. I guess she knows what she's doing.

Anyway, she said I'd be having the surgery (which will be under local anesthetic and last an hour or so) on March 16 or 23. That's after the Wellington Jazz Festival, but well before I leave for Japan, so I'm pretty happy with that.

It was after midday by the time I was finished at the hospital. I was hungry, but I decided I was in the mood to try the Olatunji Concert experiment. So I rigged up my iPod and headed into town.

It was interesting for a while. A highlight was when I came to an intersection and could hear the sound of traffic on the recording (which was done live in a converted gymnasium in Harlem) as well as that of the traffic passing in front of me. My mind was on lunch, though, and so instead of drifting and letting the music dictate where I'd walk, I followed a familiar route to a favourite eatery.

By the time I got there I was only half way through the first track, so I hit Pause and didn't resume listening until I'd finished eating. Again, I didn't drift, but instead headed straight for the nearest Ticketek outlet to buy a ticket to the Brad Mehldau Trio concert in Wellington on March 8. "Ogundi" ended just before I got there, so I hit Pause again. Once I'd bought my ticket I felt it was time to head home. Something told me The Olatunji Concert wasn't right for walking through suburban Christchurch, so I hit Stop and packed away my earphones.

I didn't actually get to listen to Jimmy Garrison's bass solo at the start of "My Favorite Things". There was no "ascension to the peak". The experiment wasn't a complete failure, though. I think I understood at least a part of what I think Wu Ming 1 was trying to say. Which is that The Olatunji Concert is urban music, recorded, and intended to be listened to, in the heart of the city. And that by 1967 jazz had come a long way from West Africa or New Orleans or wherever it came from.

A couple of days earlier, near the beginning of my first listening of The Olatunji Concert (as "a mere background" as also recommended by Wu Ming 1), I suddenly felt the urge to laugh. I felt the same urge during my third or fourth listening of Ornette Coleman's The Shape of Jazz to Come. The urge wasn't to laugh at them, mind you, but to laugh with them.

Distance walked today: 5km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 29.3km
Days left until departure: 86

Thursday 19 February 2009

Mishima

Mishima Taisha, c. 1832

Mishima Taisha, c. 1994

Mishima is the eleventh station on the Tokaido. According to Wikipedia, it's the source of the pseudonym of the Japanese author Hiraoka Kimitake. It's also Keiko's hometown.

We lived in Mishima for just over a year in the 1990s, literally a stone's throw away from the Tokaido in an apartment building called Kyoei Building, not to be (but often) confused with the run-down apartment building on the other side of town called Kyoei Mansion.

The Izu Hakone railway passed by our window. Not far away there was a railway crossing. We soon got used to the noise, so much so that we were always surprised when guests stayed and complained about being woken up when the first train went by just before six in the morning.

It was only a few minutes walk from our apartment to Mishima Taisha, the famous shrine depicted in Hiroshige's print of Mishima in the series The Fifty-Three Stations of the Tokaido. Along with the gardens at Rakujuen, Mishima Taisha is one of Mishima's main tourist attractions. The car park was often crowded with tour buses bringing people from who knows where. But for us Mishima Taisha was a place we passed on the way to the station, a quiet place to go for a stroll and look at the carp, a place to go and watch the archery, or to go and feed the deer.

I wonder what thoughts will go through my head when I return to Mishima Taisha in June.

Distance walked today: 10.7km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 24.3km
Days left until departure: 87

Wednesday 18 February 2009

344

Today I walked to Riccarton and back. If I'd gone by bicycle or car, I wouldn't have noticed this:


I bought John Coltrane's The Olatunji Concert. Tomorrow, if I feel up to it after my hospital appointment, I intend to walk through the city listening to it with earphones. I'm trying to think of a good "high place with a view" for listening to Jimmy Garrison's bass solo at the start of "My Favorite Things". Perhaps the cathedral tower would be appropriate.

Distance walked today: 7.6km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 13.6km
Days left until departure: 88

Tuesday 17 February 2009

Stepping up a notch

Well, my training may not quite be in full swing, but my planning for the Tokaido walk has definitely stepped up a notch. Over the weekend I went on a booking spree and made reservations at a further 12 hotels along the route of my journey.

When Erik and I walked the Nakasendo, we stayed in a combination of traditional Japanese style inns (ryokan and minshuku) and business hotels. This worked out quite well. At ryokan and minshuku you get the traditional atmosphere (including a soak in a communal bath), two invariably delicious and immaculately presented meals, and interaction with your hosts and other guests. At business hotels you get modern conveniences like coin laundries and Internet access, and (for better or worse) privacy/anonymity.

One drawback of Japanese inns, however, is that they often don’t cater for single travelers. Often they just don't accept bookings for singles. Sometimes they do, but at double the advertised rate. So when I walk the Tokaido I'll mainly be staying in business hotels. One traditional Japanese inn I definitely want to stay in, however, is Ohashiya, which, like Daikokuya on the Nakasendo, has accommodated travelers since the Edo period.

I usually book my accommodation in Japan through Rakuten Travel. Not only are their rates usually very competitive, but their website has a "search from map" function which enables you to zoom in on different areas and look at all the accommodation options available in each, which is very handy if you're looking for places to stay along a fixed route like the Tokaido. There's an English version of Rakuten Travel here, although the range of hotels isn't as large as the Japanese version, and it doesn't appear to have the "search from map" function. I've also heard that you don't always get the same deals you get on the Japanese version.

This site is also useful for finding accommodation and other facilities in Japan if you know the name of the closest railway or subway station. First you enter the name of the station (in Japanese) in the search box. You then click the "search" tab, and you're taken to a screen where you can click on the name of the type of facilities (hotels, restaurants, bars, etc.) you want to search for around the station. It then brings up a Google map with the locations of the kinds of facilities you're interested in marked as well as links to reviews and booking websites for those facilities. Here, for example, is the result of a search for billiard halls in Shinjuku.

And finally, just so that no one can accuse me of taking backhanders, here's another popular Japanese accommodation booking site, Jalan.

Distance walked today: 3km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 6km
Days left until departure: 89

Monday 16 February 2009

Summit's Edge: The Sequel

You may recall the saga of the waterproof Rockport Summit's Edge shoes that I bought back in August 2007. You know, the ones that cost me an arm and a leg and were worn just three or four times. The ones that were slightly too big and gave me terrible blisters.

Well, my big brother Mark recently paid a visit from Bhutan, where he now lives, and he mentioned that he needed some new outdoor shoes. I did a bit of investigating and discovered that his feet were slightly bigger than mine. So I had him try on the Rockports. And, lo and behold, they were a perfect fit.

So after sitting in my wardrobe for a year and a half, they're now half a world away treading the streets of Thimphu and ferrying my brother up steep Himalayan mountain tracks to cliff-hanging Buddhist monasteries.

One thing that does concern me is the ability of the suede uppers to cope with the harsh natural environment in Bhutan, including the yak dung. Perhaps Mark could provide a report?

On a completely different note, I decided a while ago that today would mark the commencement of my training for the Tokaido walk. Unfortunately all I had time for was a stroll down to the supermarket and back, so it's not a very auspicious start. Anyway, 90 days to go...

Distance walked today: 3km
Total distance walked since Tokaido training began: 3km
Days left until departure: 90

Sunday 15 February 2009

Friday 13 February 2009

A new thing

In "The Old New Thing is Newer than Ever", his liner notes to the double CD The Old New Thing: A Free Jazz Anthology, Wu Ming 1, part of the collective that co-wrote the magnificent Q and the intriguing 54, offers the following tips for listening to John Coltrane's The Olatunji Concert.
Before you decide whether you like it or not, listen to it three times. The first time as a mere background while you're doing something else (it's not very good for sex though). The second time, listen to it attentively. The third time, listen to it with earphones as you're walking the streets of your town. Find a way to be on a high place with a view during Jimmy Garrison's bass solo opening My Favorite Things.
I'm not a great fan of walking (or running) with earphones on. It's dangerous, and it creates a barrier between you and your environment. I do have an iPod, but I only ever use it when traveling on trains or planes, never when traveling on foot or bicycle. But I'm tempted to try this. I can vouch for the fact that listening to the same music "as a mere background" (while washing the dishes, for example) and then attentively does broaden one's appreciation of it. But I don’t think I've ever walked the streets of Christchurch listening to music with earphones. Unfortunately I don’t have John Coltrane's The Olatunji Concert. I'm thinking of trying it with some Ornette Coleman instead.

Thursday 12 February 2009

Walking without excuses

From the Nelson Mail:
Bishop Richard Ellena is planning to walk 1000 kilometres around the Nelson Anglican diocese to celebrate the city's 150th birthday and retrace the steps of Nelson's first bishops.
Strangely, I'm still haunted by a comment Erik made nearly two years ago to the effect that he wouldn't be involved in something like walking the Nakasendo if he didn't think he'd end up with material for a body of artwork at the end. Partly this is because I continue to feel guilty that I haven’t contributed anything to the art project since the end of the walk. But also, although I'm sure it wasn’t intended as such, I took this remark as a slight in the form of a denial that walking the Nakasendo had value in its own right.

Recently I've become firmer in my opinion not only that walking does have intrinsic value, but also that people who use walking to promote some cause or to fundraise are denigrating this value. So I get slightly annoyed whenever I read in the newspaper about someone walking the length of the country to raise awareness of such-and-such an issue, or to raise money for such-and-such a cause. I'm not doubting that in most cases the issue or cause in question is important. It's just that I find it disappointing that people either feel the need to come up with some excuse to walk, or regard it as some kind of sacrifice that deserves reward in the form of publicity or financial contributions from others.

I'm not sure where the bishop stands on this. Wherever it is, I wish him well on his epic walk.

Wednesday 11 February 2009

A grave obsession

Just a few years before the Hayama Incident, another scandal arose involving a number of prominent Japanese anarchists, among them Kotoku Shusui and his partner Kanno Suga. This incident, however, had far more serious consequences. The High Treason Incident ultimately resulted in the execution by hanging of 12 people, and the imprisonment of a further 14. Osugi Sakae himself might have become a victim of this government witch-hunt had it not been for the fact that he was already serving a prison sentence for an unrelated offence.

Kotoku Shusui and Kanno Suga

The incident centered on an alleged plot to assassinate the Japanese Emperor Meiji. The real facts of the matter are not entirely clear, and while some of the accused had tested a crude bomb, it's generally accepted that most of those convicted had no connection to any conspiracy and that at most five or six people were involved (a plea for a retrial was submitted after the Second World War but eventually rejected by the Supreme Court). The main aim of the authorities appears to have been to crush the Japanese anarchist movement once and for all.

One of those who became embroiled in the High Treason Incident was Uchiyama Gudo, a Soto Zen priest who wrote and published anti-government propaganda using a printing press hidden at the Rinsen-ji temple in Hakone of which he was in charge. As a result of the incident, Gudo was deprived of his status as a Zen priest and excommunicated. In 1992, however, a submission was presented to the then head priest at Rinsen-ji requesting that Gudo's name be formally reentered on the registry of priests, and the following year Gudo's status was posthumously restored. His grave at Rinsen-ji, which previously took the form of a simple stone with no mention of Gudo's name, was subsequently upgraded to include a full headstone.

The grave of Kotoku Shusui

Visiting the graves of Japanese anarchists is a minor obsession of mine. I've visited the grave of Osugi Sakae in Shizuoka twice (in 1994 and 1996), and in 2003 I traveled to the town of Nakamura on the southern tip of the island of Shikoku to visit the grave of Kotoku Shusui, who was executed along with Gudo in 1911. Rinsen-ji is not on the Tokaido, but it's not far from Hakone-Yumoto, where I'll probably be staying on day 21 of my walk. If I get up early the following morning, I should have time to visit Uchiyama Gudo's grave before continuing on to Oiso.

Monday 9 February 2009

Real

Today I made the symbolic first hotel booking for my Tokaido walk in May. I've booked a room at the Super Hotel Kyoto Shijo-Kawaramachi, which is just a few hundred metres away from the starting point of the Tokaido at Sanjo-Ohashi bridge. When we walked the Nakasendo in 2007 we had to take a taxi from our accommodation to the bridge. This time I'll be able to walk.

Sunday 8 February 2009

Re:Wired

Last year Barack Obama famously revealed that The Wire was his favourite TV programme, and that the principled ("I robs drug dealers"), shotgun-toting, gay, African-American stick-up artist Omar Little was his favourite character. Though this choice no doubt shocked conservatives, it was probably a calculated one on Obama's part. It was certainly popular. After all, almost everyone who likes The Wire likes Omar.

I'm not sure that I have a favourite character from the show. That's not because I think they're all unlikeable. Quite the contrary, in fact. Certainly, none of them is an angel, but the fact that they're so imperfect and full of contradictions makes them all seem believable and human (with the possible exception of Omar, whose superhero antics make him the least convincing character). This is unusual in television dramas, and is one of the reasons why The Wire is so good. Another is the fact that nothing (sex, violence, police work, crime) is glorified.

I do have a bit of a soft spot for Detective Roland "Prez" Pryzbylewski. Maybe it's his vulnerability. Despite his advantages (he's white, and his father-in-law is a local police commander), he never seems secure, and often struggles to do what's required of him. There's a lot not to like about him. Not so much his ineptitude (one of his first acts it to accidentally shoot a wall while showing off his modified Glock, and his shooting up of his own police car in a panic is legendary within the police department), but his apparent lack of any firm principles. At one point he drunkenly pistol-whips a fourteen-year-old boy, an act that leaves the victim blinded in one eye. This seems out of character, though (even his often violent buddies, whose gung-ho attitude Prez is mirroring at the time, are shocked), and like many of his actions stems from weakness, fear and insecurity more than anything else.

I've recently finished watching season 3 of The Wire. I'd already seen all the other series, and one thing puzzled me. How did Prez, who after his initial stuff-ups discovers a talent for code-breaking and becomes an invaluable member of the Major Crimes Unit in season 2, turn into a maths teacher in season 4? Not unexpectedly, the answer was yet another act of incompetence arising from fear.

The scene was almost as gripping as the scene from season 1 in which Detective Kima Greggs was stalked and shot. Prez and another officer are out getting Chinese takeaways. They receive an emergency request for backup and rush to offer assistance. The two men split up, shots are heard, and we see Prez approaching a dead body. Prez says that he saw a gun and fired. It turns out that the dead man is a plainclothes police officer. Completely demoralized, Prez leaves the police force for good.

Although he also struggles to find his feet in the classroom, by the end of season 4 Prez has becomes a pretty competent teacher. If anything he's too good, becoming emotionally attached to some of his students and going out of his way to help them. It's interesting to note that Prez's teaching and other experiences are almost certainly based on those of The Wire's writer and co-creator Ed Burns, who served in the Baltimore Police Department for twenty years before retiring to become a teacher. He also fought in Vietnam, an experience he said was similar psychologically to teaching.

Saturday 7 February 2009

Return to Northlands

Last Monday I drove over to Northlands to look for some new waterproof walking shoes. I'd been looking around town for some New Balance 965s (or the newer 966s) but hadn't seen any. I even tried the New Balance outlet store in Hornby, but without success. I bought the New Balance 748s I wore when we walked the Nakasendo at The Athlete's Foot in Northlands (I walked there on that occasion as part of my training), so I figured I'd go back there. But when I went in and enquired I was told that New Balance had reduced their lineup of walking shoes in New Zealand to just two models, and the 965 wasn't one of them.

Dispirited, I wondered through the mall, stopping at the Ticketek outlet to pick up a ticket to the Tomasz Stańko gig on 7 March. I passed a Front Runner, and decided to go in to see what they had. I was about to try on some Merrells when I spotted what looked like some 965s in the sale section. They turned out to be women's 965s, but the shop assistant reckoned they should fit me (I have small feet and often have trouble getting men's shoes in my size). They felt pretty comfortable. Plus I think they look nicer than the men's version. I actually tried on a pair of 964s (an earlier model of the same shoe) a couple of years ago and they felt stiff compared to my 748s, which put me off buying them. Although they have the exact same soles as the 748s, the uppers are made of a waterproof leather so they're not as flexible (the 748 uppers are a combination of leather and a synthetic mesh material). But the 965s weren't stiff at all, so I bought them. At $100, they were less than half the original price.

Then, as if that wasn't enough shopping for one day, as I was heading back to the car I saw a box set of season 1 of The Wire on DVD for $34.99 and snapped it up. I already have season 5 on DVD. I'm not sure if I'll get the other three seasons (which I've seen anyway, courtesy of Grant). I see a box set of all five seasons is out in the US, and selling on Amazon for US$135. That's $255 in our money, plus there'd be some hefty postage on top of that. With the NZ dollar so weak I've been holding back on Amazon purchases lately. My Wish List is growing, although I was able to cross off one item yesterday when I bought Keith Jarrett's latest release from the iTunes Store for $17.99, saving at least five dollars!

I've since worn the 965s a couple of times to the supermarket and back and so far they seem OK. I'm waiting for some decent rain so I can test them in the wet.

Thursday 5 February 2009

Hayama

Last October during a brief trip to Japan, I traveled to the town of Hayama on the Miura Peninsula just south of Tokyo. I was there to see a friend, but I'd always wanted to visit Hayama because of its association with the Japanese anarchist Osugi Sakae.

Many Japanese people haven't heard of Osugi Sakae. Some of those who have know of him because of what's commonly referred to as the Hayama Incident. This incident, which took place in 1916 and was centered on a teahouse in Hayama called the Hikage Chaya (and is therefore also sometimes referred to as the Hikage Chaya Incident), marked the climax of a bizarre experiment in "free love".

Free love was something Osugi had been reading and writing about for many years. As an anarchist, he blamed capitalism for perverting love and marriage and thought that true free love could only become a reality once capitalism was abolished. But Osugi couldn't wait that long. He decided it was time to put his ideas into practice.

In December 1915, Osugi, who'd been married to Hori Yasuko since 1906, began an affair with Kamichika Ichiko, a newspaper reporter and member of the feminist group Seito-sha (Bluestocking Society). Then in February 1916, he began another affair, with Ito Noe, also a member of Seito-sha and the wife of Dadaist musician and writer Tsuji Jun.

Kamichika Ichiko

Osugi set out three conditions on which the four-way relationship would be based: first, each individual in the relationship would be financially independent; second, each would live in their own dwelling; and third, each would allow the others complete freedom of action.

It seems that Osugi's enthusiasm wasn't matched by the three women involved. The relationship soon became bogged down in jealousy and financial difficulties. In November 1916 Osugi traveled to Hayama and took a room at the Hikage Chaya to work on a translation. He told Kamichika that he'd be alone. But when Kamichika arrived to check on him she found Ito in his room. Ito returned to Tokyo the following day. Kamichika stayed behind with Osugi. The two argued, and in the middle of the following night, Kamichika stabbed Osugi in the throat.

Osugi spent ten days recovering in a hospital in the neighbouring town of Zushi. The Hayama Incident caused quite a scandal and those involved were ostracized by many of their peers. Kamichika was tried and eventually sentenced to two years in prison. She later became a member of the Japanese House of Representatives. Hori ended her marriage with Osugi. However, Osugi and Ito continued their relationship and went on to have four children together.

On 16 September 1923, amidst the chaos that reigned in Tokyo in the aftermath of the Great Kanto Earthquake, a squad of military police detained Osugi, Ito, and Osugi's six-year-old nephew. All three were beaten to death and their bodies thrown into a well.

Osugi Sakae, Ito Noe, and daughter Mako

Today the Hikage Chaya operates as an upscale Japanese restaurant. Apparently we weren’t the first customers to enquire about its links with Osugi Sakae, because when we did so the cashier produced a copy of an old magazine with a lengthy article about the Hayama Incident. Unfortunately the room where the stabbing took place no longer exists (or so we were told), so I had to make do with a few photos of the building's exterior.

Speaking of connections...

I'm not very good with names. It's only just dawned on me that Tom Stanley of Walk Japan Ltd., who co-created the previously clunky but now beautiful Nakasendo Way website, parts of which I printed off and used as a guide when we walked the Nakasendo in 2007, is Dr. Thomas A. Stanley, author of Osugi Sakae, Anarchist in Taisho Japan: The Creativity of the Ego.

I should explain that when I went to Tokyo in 1996 it was to do research on Osugi Sakae for a possible M.A. (Things didn't quite go to plan. I blogged about that year here and here.) Japanese anarchism in the Taisho period is a very specialized field, and although my efforts to contribute to it have been pathetic compared to those of Dr. Stanley, it seems remarkable that we're both interested in Osugi Sakae and the Nakasendo. I wonder if he likes Keith Jarrett?

Tuesday 3 February 2009

Probable Tokaido schedule

After much fussing and fiddling, I've finally come up with a schedule for my Tokaido walk which I'm happy with. Two nights in Kyoto, followed by 25 days on the road (including two rest days), then two nights in Tokyo. I'll walk an average of just over 21km a day. The most distance I'll cover in a single day will be 28.6km, the least 12.1km. The route will take me over three main passes, although the highest of these (Hakone Pass) is only 846m, around half the height of the most difficult pass on the Nakasendo (which we conquered on Day 15 of the Nakasendo walk).

The main difference between what you see below and the original schedule I put together last year is the direction. I'd initially intended to start in Tokyo, mainly because we started in Kyoto when we walked the Nakasendo and I wanted to try walking in the opposite direction this time. But when I went to book my flights I found that it was going to be a lot more convenient to fly into Kansai airport (the closest international airport to Kyoto) and out of Narita (the closest to Tokyo) than the other way around. So Day 1 will be a repeat of Day 1 of the Nakasendo walk.

The next step is to book my accommodation. I guess I'd better start training, too.

Day 1: Kyoto - Kusatsu (25.7)
Day 2: Kusatsu - Minakuchi (24.8)
Day 3: Minakuchi - Seki (27.4)
Day 4: Seki - Shono (15)
Day 5: Shono - Yokkaichi (15.4)
Day 6: Yokkaichi - Kuwana (15.9)
Day 7: Rest day in Nagoya
Day 8: Miya - Chiryu (19.8)
Day 9: Chiryu - Okazaki (12.1)
Day 10: Okazaki - Akasaka (20.9)
Day 11: Akasaka - Yoshida (13.7)
Day 12: Yoshida - Maisaka (28.8)
Day 13: Maisaka - Mitsuke (23.8)
Day 14: Mitsuke - Kakegawa (18.7)
Day 15: Kakegawa - Fujieda (27.8)
Day 16: Fujieda - Fuchu (22.8)
Day 17: Rest day in Shizuoka
Day 18: Fuchu - Okitsu (17)
Day 19: Okitsu - Yoshiwara (27.1)
Day 20: Yoshiwara - Mishima (21.9)
Day 21: Mishima - Hakone-Yumoto (23.7)
Day 22: Hakone-Yumoto - Oiso (24.5)
Day 23: Oiso - Totsuka (25.8)
Day 24: Totsuka - Kanagawa (14.4)
Day 25: Kanagawa - Nihonbashi (28.6)

Monday 2 February 2009

A spiritual (?) journey (Part 5)

Today, some 60 years after his death, George Ivanovich Gurdjieff remains a controversial figure. While many people claim to have benefited greatly from his teachings, others maintain that he was a charlatan who preyed on his followers' weaknesses. It's easy enough to dismiss the wackier critics who argue that Gurdjieff was the devil incarnate, but not as easy to ignore analyses such as this one, which describes Gurdjieff as advocating "an almost fascistic conservatism". Some of Gurdjieff's ideas, including his contempt for Western medicine and his belief in strictly separate roles for men and women, certainly don't seem particularly progressive. But I tend to agree with Webb that Gurdjieff was sincere, that it's conceivable that he was both a spy and a seeker of the truth. This is not to say that he always did what he said he was doing. What he actually did may simply have been an elaborate form of psychotherapy. It's interesting to note that on a number of occasions he supported himself by working as a hypnotherapist.

To me one of the most fascinating aspects of his story is that it highlights the fact that there are esoteric schools within all the major religions that teach that it's possible to achieve higher levels of consciousness and that the true role of religion is not to gain and convert as many followers as possible but to preserve these ideas and pass them on in their original form. This explains one of the defining characteristics of esoteric religions, which is that the transmission of ideas must take place directly from teacher to student and cannot be learned from a book. The secrecy of the ideas itself is not important, as this is just a side effect of the reality that they cannot be passed on other than in the context of the teacher-student relationship.

And so we return to my original post in this series, in which I referred to my fascination with Kukai, the Japanese founder of Shingon Buddhism. Shingon is one of the two main sub-schools of esoteric Vajrayana Buddhism, the other being Tibetan Buddhism. The esoteric Buddhism practiced at the Qinglong monastery in Chang'an where Kukai was initiated was introduced from India in the eighth century. Later, the same teachings were introduced into Tibet. If Webb's account of events is accurate, then Gurdjieff had close contact with Tibetan Buddhism, even serving as a Tibetan Buddhist monk for a time. Webb goes as far as describing Gurdjieff's indebtedness to Tibetan Buddhism as "the greatest single debt Gurdjieff owed to any existing system". The teachings Gurdjieff developed based on this knowledge of Tibetan Buddhism in turn had a profound influence on Keith Jarrett. (There's also speculation that Vajrayana Buddhism influenced the construction of Borobudur, a place that's long been a source of fascination for me, but whose story will have to wait for another time.)

There's something very satisfying about finding connections like these. But do these connections really mean anything, or are they illusions that we cling to because they reassure us that there's a semblance of structure in the chaotic world around us? One evening in the French city of Avignon, Keiko and I stopped outside an Indian restaurant to look at the menu. The Indian proprietor came out and starting chatting to us. On hearing that I was from New Zealand and Keiko from Japan, he said, "Ah, Japan, India and New Zealand form a triangle!" I laughed. "Yes, but any three countries would form a triangle." Then we went into the restaurant.

Sunday 1 February 2009

A tale of two festivals

I was just starting to get mildly enthusiastic about April's New Zealand International Jazz and Blues Festival (which despite the grandiose title is very much a local Christchurch event), mainly due to the participation of Mike Nock, a much-underrated New Zealand jazz pianist whose illustrious career stretches back to the 1960s, when he took over from a young Keith Jarrett as the pianist in Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers, and who also led a seminal fusion group called The Fourth Way (is that a Gurdjieff connection?). But I've just seen the programme for March's Wellington Jazz Festival, which despite its far more modest title boasts a lineup that puts the Christchurch event to shame.

How's this for a weekend of fine jazz? Friday night: Mingus Big Band. Saturday night: Tomasz Stańko Quartet. Sunday night: Brad Mehldau Trio. And they've got Mike Nock too, playing in a concert with classical pianist Michael Houstoun. The only slightly disappointing thing about the programme is the description of Stańko as "the Polish Miles Davis". That's about as meaningless as describing Beethoven as "the German Mozart". Still, it's not as bad as the description of Keith Jarrett as "a classical Billy Joel" in this unenlightened review of Jarrett's latest triumph at Carnegie Hall. That's just wrong! The guy doesn't deserve to be at a Keith Jarrett concert. He should have given the ticket to me. And paid for my airfare to New York.