Moonshadow: Sun and Star

Last semester, my partner and I took a course on Pre-Modern Japanese Art and one of the topics was about Japanese gardens. From that class, I learned that gardens in Japan differ from most Western gardens in one way: the lack of colorful flowers. Instead, Japanese gardens usually tend to have three elements–rocks, trees, and water–which are in line with the wabi-sabi (simple, austere, and rustic) aesthetic.

My partner and I went to Hamarikyu Gardens in the Chuo district of Tokyo, the closest Japanese garden from our place. This is right beside Shiodome, a financial area with towering buildings and a great number of tourists. Upon entering the garden, we felt like we entered a portal to a long-gone era of Japan, although the nearby buildings sometimes disrupted the illusion.

Among the greens, greys, and browns, we found peace and tranquility. Nature truly has a soothing, healing effect, especially on exhausted city dwellers like us.

The structures, such as traditional Japanese teahouses and small shops, were made out of wood and other natural materials, evoking feelings of both belongingness to nature and “old” pre-modern Japan. I recall from the course we had taken that the choice of using natural materials for structures in the olden days was also attributed to Shintoism, which places a significant value on respecting nature, particularly the nature kami (deities).

When I saw this signboard pointing to a kiosk with a drawing of a medieval-era Japanese man–a representation of perhaps a samurai or even one of the Tokugawa shogun (military dictator) himself, as this was once a Tokugawa family villa–I realized that the administrators of the gardens might really be aiming to create an illusion of the grandiose and serene Edo period.

We also noticed that despite it being a weekday, apart from some foreign tourists, there were a good number of Japanese visitors to the Hamarikyu Gardens. There may be a variety of reasons why many contemporary Japanese decide to go to historical gardens. A peaceful walk away from the hustle and bustle of the city? A place to meditate and rejuvenate oneself from everyday stress? A time to appreciate nature? A nostalgic journey to the past?

What do you think?

Have you been to a Japanese garden? What did you like most about it?

When we talk about Japan, the first few images that come to mind probably include the following: skyscrapers, sarariman (male white-collar workers) in business suits, Japanese food like sushi and tempura, and anime. We usually think of the bustling streets of Tokyo–especially the large crowds at Shibuya Crossing–busy employees hurrying off to work, as well as fashionable teenagers and young adults in trendy shopping districts. These are popular depictions of contemporary Japan in TV and movies.

Yet despite these stereotypical images of Japan, there exist urban areas that are not as filled with both local Japanese and foreign tourists as Shinjuku, Harajuku, or Roponggi. Although they do have towering buildings that are either corporate towers, condominiums, or hotels, they are not as clustered together as the main areas in Tokyo. Aside from grassy parks that are good for afternoon picnics, these lesser-known districts have many other wide areas to wander around and just enjoy the view,

I am a lover of city living due to the convenience and accessibility it provides but I do have a strong distaste for large crowds. Because of this, I’m glad to know that there are places in Japan that are urban yet peaceful. Most importantly, they are not just composed of concrete roads and steel buildings–they give a taste of nature, as well, in the form of large parks, rivers, and in some cases, proximity to Tokyo Bay.

Minato Mirai in Yokohama is one of our favorite places to visit. There are shopping malls, hotels, event spaces, three spacious parks, a port for cruise ships, and a theme park. The first time we visited Minato Mirai as a couple, we were wandering aimlessly at night (as we usually do, because it is one of our favorite pastimes) and we were surprised to see very few people walking. We got to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere and the cool breeze coming in from the nearby Tokyo Bay.

Just a few minutes from our apartment is a bridge that has an amazing, romantic view. There had been countless nights when we would just walk around with no direction in mind for fun, but we would always end up going over this bridge just to take in the sight of beautifully-lit buildings of different heights casting their shadows down on the river. We can also see Tokyo Tower from this bridge.

These places made us realize that living in urban Japan is not only characterized by a fast-paced lifestyle that we both were not made for. Instead, one can find these peaceful places that connect the manmade with the natural.

Do you have a favorite place in Japan?

Food is one of the defining elements of every country. In some cases, a person might even decide to move to the country where his favorite dishes are from. The taste may be the most significant feature in every food, as it affects our decision for or against opting for another serving of the same meal or snack, or whether or not we’ll order the same food item again next time we find ourselves in the same restaurant. It may also influence the way we think about the country where that food is from.

In Japan, those who prepare food do not only think about the taste, but carefully consider the presentation as well. Many of you may be familiar with the cute bento (lunch boxes) made by mothers for their young children. This attention to the aesthetic appearance of food among the Japanese does not only apply to savory meals, but to sweets as well.

My partner and I have been to many cafes and buffets and we’ve noticed how Japanese sweets always look delicious and cute at the same time. We’ve never seen a dessert that is bare, single-colored, or boring. This applies to both traditional Japanese sweets and foreign sweets. Even they–who does not like sweet anko (red bean paste)–agree that mochi looks appealing to the eye, which makes it appetizing. I myself do not like the taste of matcha- (powdered green tea) flavored sweets, but genuinely think that they look attractive.

Due to my love of sweets, we decided to go to a brand new all-you-can-eat sweets buffet in the unique conveyor belt style commonly found in sushi restaurants. Aside from small plates of strawberry mousse, coffee jelly, cupcakes, and my ultimate favorite–cotton candy–to name a few, there were also savory snacks like popcorn and potato salad, the latter of which was placed under an upside-down sugar cone and made to look like vanilla ice cream.

I’ve always wondered why the Japanese pay so much attention to food appearance as it is something that isn’t really important where I’m from. In my country, the taste matters more than anything else. Most mothers would simply transfer what they had cooked from the pot or pan to a big bowl or plate, from which each member of the family can take multiple servings. They wouldn’t take some greens and put them over a bowl of curry or stew to “add a bit of a color.”

It is admirable that many Japanese tend to take the extra step and beautify their meals. Aesthetically appealing foods seem to positively influence a person’s appetite. The emphasis on presentation can also be translated as an expression of love from parent to child or between couples. However, there may also be negative implications of this societal expectation. For instance, what if the mother is not feeling well or do not have the time to beautify her child or husband’s meal? Or what about people who aren’t very artistically creative and prefer to make simple but delicious homecooked meals?

Personally, I prefer “beautiful” food for special occasions and simple yet scrumptious food on ordinary days. How about you?