Nuclear Power and Little Adventures

Nuclear Power.  Many of you have seen articles reporting an independent commission’s conclusion that the Fukushima accident was man-made, due in part to a close relationship between TEPCO (the electric power company operating the reactor), the nuclear regulatory commission, and the government.  The news came a few days after Japan restarted its nuclear reactor in Oi, the first since all were shut down after the disaster.  You also may have read of protests about the restarting and the roughly 50,000 people marching in front of the prime minister’s residence.  For the non-confrontational, quiet Japanese, this was a significant number.

I’ve talked with some of the people I’ve met in Tokyo about the restart.  What has impressed me most is that the Japanese seem very aware of the clear trade-offs – no nuclear reactors means a 15-20% drop in electrical power, which will affect virtually every individual, business and the economy – and they are willing to make that choice.  They did it last year because they had to; now they are willing to do so permanently.  A recent survey showed that 70% of the people oppose restarting the reactors and are willing to limit their electrical consumption, including having less air conditioning as the hot and steamy summer approaches.  Some I talked with echoed this sentiment, while others were conflicted, feeling there needed to be at least some nuclear power but uncomfortable about the safety issues.  There seems to be a deep mistrust of the government’s willingness or ability to ensure its reactors’ and hence its people’s safety.  That, Tokyo’s apprehension that the next big earthquake will happen near here, and ongoing concerns about the economy and Japan’s declining population, make for an undercurrent of malaise here.

In listening to the talk about the reactors, my thoughts turned to how this might apply in America.  I leave it to you to think about cozy business/governmental relationships and choices we may be asked to make in the future.

Little Adventures.  Any trip is a montage of adventures.  As I get ready to leave Tokyo and head north to the Tohoku region, I thought I’d report on some I’ve had these last few weeks.

Hakone.  This week, Yuko and I went to Hakone, southwest of Tokyo in the Mt. Fuji region.  The last leg of the trip was on a train that zigzagged back and forth up a mountain, stopping at a station then reversing itself along the way.  We first went to the out-door sculpture garden, a nice-sized park of contemporary sculpture, mostly by Japanese but also by Europeans and a few Americans.   There was also a museum of Picasso drawings and ceramics, where the building shook as a small (4.0) earthquake hit somewhere in the region.  The garden was smaller than Storm King, north of New York, and didn’t allow you to walk on the lawn around the sculptures.  But they were interesting pieces, particularly because they were by people I didn’t know.  We especially liked the sculptures made for children to explore.

By a Costa Rican sculptor

Yes, that's a child climbing inside!

In the afternoon we went up the ropeway (i.e. gondola) to the top of the mountain.  By now it was misty, so there are no pictures of us going through the fog, with a descending car emerging out of the white.  As we neared the top, we could look down to see a huge sulfur quarry, used to supply the hot springs below.  By this time it was raining and I decided I really didn’t want to trek around in my sandals over slippery rocks to peer over the edge of the quarry.  We headed back down the mountain, took a train to Tokyo, and stopped at a transfer point to have a great sashimi dinner at a local restaurant. We had a great day, even in the mist and rain.

Sachiko Kashima

The “crazy curator”.  This is a picture of a woman named Sachiko Kashima.  She told me "Sachiko" means “happy” and indeed she is.  I met her a few weeks ago at a gallery in the Ginza section of Tokyo.   Somehow a conversation started, one thing led to another, and she took me to her apartment along with the woman friend she was with.  There I learned she had been a curator at a private museum in Kyoto, where she had put together an exhibition on Noh theatre during the Edo period.  While she specialized in textiles (I think), her training required that she learn about all the arts, so she was expert in pottery, calligraphy, etc.  In between three sets of afternoon tea, each with a different tea and sweet, she showed me a very old, beautiful green Noh costume, scrolls, and lacquer boxes she had collected.  As I left, she handed me a used shibori kimono to use in my quilting and said, “call me and we’ll do something next week.”

I’ve seen her twice since, which is no mean feat since she doesn’t use a computer, is often out when I call her, and we can barely understand each other. The second time she had inadvertently “overbooked” so we first went to a nearby hospital clinic where she had a doctor’s appointment.  Through her and another person I’d met, I learned that everyone in Japan has health insurance and that a hospital/clinic must see everyone that comes in.   You can also choose your doctor, making an appointment at the clinic where he/she works.  The wait may be a bit long, the appointment itself a bit short, but everyone gets treated. 

Next we went to the Mori Museum in a skyscraper to see an exhibit of contemporary Arab art.  I don’t know that she liked it much, and not all of it was good, but it certainly was expressive of a deep anger at a modern soul-less world and the unending, senseless violence between Palestine and Israel, despite religious and political leaders’ statements advocating peace and tolerance.  Afterwards, we went to the observation floor and looked out at Tokyo on a beautiful sunny day.  We finished by having a sashimi dinner nearby and talked about meeting later in the summer in northern Japan. 

It has been an amazing experience with Kashima-sensei and I have no idea why she befriended me.  She is lively, bright, and has a wonderful style about her. She’s also quite strong willed and something of an imp, laughing and making me laugh at what we do together.  I don’t know if we will manage to see each other again, but I will certainly try.

Shoes.  As I rode around Tokyo on the commuter trains, I started noticing the variety of footwear that people wore.  True, there were a lot of black shoes worn by the salary men and women on their way to work.  But there was a lot of style, too, not just worn by women but also men.  There is also a wide variety of socks and stockings that are part of “the outfit”.  One store had a huge display of five-toed socks (popular here), lacy crews, and little “sockettes” with a pretty band across the foot to hold it in place, all in a range of pastels.  So, for the fun of it, here are some of the feet I saw.