Tag Archive for Uchujin

Yasukuni-August 15th

August the 15th is the anniversary of the Japanese surrender at the end of World War II.
Every year on this day 1000’s of people go to the controversial Yasukuni shrine in Kudanshita to pay their respects to the war dead (including the 14 class A war criminals whose souls are intered there).

Capt. Muju

TeamMuju-©Adrian Storey 2009
It’s been a long month.
The Beats exhibition, house guests, domestic travel, increasing temperatures and the usual slew of rude people on the trains.
Not much time for photography or keeping up with my rss feeds and even less time for blog writing.

I did find time, however, to shoot a portrait of a dear friend and his lovely girlfriend who stayed with us for a week or so though.

Meet ‘Muju’.
It must be 15 years that we’ve been friends now and it still feels as inspiring and fresh as it did when we first met.
An extremely talented artist and photographer, a dub fiend and an oasis of calm in a crazy world, Muju is responsible for me first picking up a camera for anything other than holiday snaps and must be credited with introducing me to Buddhism long before he was the catalyst that first made me go to India thereby changing the course of my life forever.
I feel genuinely lucky to be his friend and even though we now live on opposite sides of the world, his thinking and world view are still so much a part of me that the debt I owe him for all he has shown me and all we have shared is unrepayable.

But enough eulogising.

The portrait of Mr and Mrs Muju was shot in a local park with three nikon speedlights, a couple of umbrellas and a little red LED flashlight.
The idea was to get all the elements in one shot.
The easiest way of course would have been to shoot Mr and Mrs Muju, the glowing Muju doll (handmade by Mrs Muju and part of a huge family of Muju dolls) and the light painting as seperate shots and composite them in photoshop afterwards, but where’s the fun in that?

What you see is essentially what came out of the camera (obviously cleaned up a little – stray hairs, slight contrast adjustments etc.)

Muju can be found all over the interwebs, but of particular interest are :-

Muju’s Flickr
Muju world

Drop buy and order a Muju doll or a muju T-shirt or even a print of one of his amazing drawings.

Oh and if Mr or Mrs Muju are reading this:-
It was GREAT to see you both, lets not leave it so long next time.
Big huge Jah love to you both :-)

I fought the law……..

I fought the law - 2009 - Japan - Adrian Storey/Uchujin
***Warning – Long rant ;-0***

Minding my own business walking from my friends shop to the station in Shibuya at 5pm on a bright warm Wednesday afternoon, on my way to work and looking forward to a video on my iPod on the train.

I see the 3 fascists, opps sorry, officers walk past me in the other direction and whilst my hackles immediately rise, I do after all live in a city where the Governor is an openly racist bigot who has told his police force to regard ALL foreigners as suspicious, I’m not overly concerned as I have done nothing wrong.

A few moments later though the 3 ‘officers’ have stopped, turned round, surrounded me and started asking questions in Japanese.

#Rule 1 – NEVER admit to speaking Japanese to these bullies.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Japanese, could you speak English please?”

“we are Shibuya police officers….blah blah blah….can we see your passport…..blah blah blah”

“im sorry what is this in connection with?”

Blank look, tiny win back of power for me, he doesn’t really speak English, but a double edged sword, this is not going to go smoothly.

Now, unlike most Japanese people and foreigners here, I have made it my business to educate myself about the laws of this country regarding my rights, so I whip out the paper I always keep in my wallet in preparation for this situation.
Prepared by a friend of mine Debito it is a print out detailing the relevant laws in Japanese and English. (and it can be found here)

However, one must always be mindful of:-

#Rule 2 – Don’t give these ‘gentlemen’ any excuse to arrest you. Be polite.

I show the paper to the only one of the 3 ‘officers’ who appears to speak any English and incidentally the only one of the 3 with his face showing, as the other two have their faces conveniently covered with those ‘allergy’ masks so popular here. Why are police officers on duty allowed to hide their identities from me in this way?? 警察国家 (Police state) anyone?

The paper points out that under Police Execution of Duties Law (Keisatsukan
Shokumu Shikkou Hou), Section 2:

“A police officer is able to ask for a person’s ID, but only if based
on a reasonable judgment of a situation where the policeman sees some strange conduct and some crime is being committed, or else he has enough reason to suspect that a person will commit or has committed a crime, or else it has been acknowledged that a particular person knows a crime will be committed.
“

I wait for him to read it and then ask what crime he thinks I have committed.

“This dangerous area of Shibuya many drug(sic), gun (sic) and (stabbing motion I presume means knife)”

“ok, but what specific crime do you think I have committed”

More blank looks and a repeat of the previous less than satisfactory reason in his broken English.

By this time I’m angry, scared and really really don’t want to be late for work so I ask politely to see their ID’s first and pull out a pen to write down their badge numbers.
Because under The Foreign Registry Law, Section 13, Clause 3 :-

“Public officials governed by the previous clause, if asking for the Gaijin (sic) Card outside of their workplace, must carry a certificate of their identity and present it if asked.”

This doesn’t go down at all well, one of the other ‘officers’ (face still hidden), up until this point just standing menacingly close starts angrily asking in Japanese why I wont show them my ID.
I ignore him because of #Rule 1 , despite my instinct to respond.

Officer#1 completely ignores the paper and demands my passport again. (as a small aside as a tax paying happily married resident I don’t have to carry my passport only my Alien Registration card)

Despite the admonishment of #Rule 2 , I start to try to write down their badge numbers at which point all 3 of them cover their badges with their hands so I can’t!!!!!!

So now I’m really scared, I’ve read what Amnesty International and others have to say about the treatment one recieves in the custody of the Police in Japan. There is a good reason these people are not allowed to be part of the UN security council you know.

Against my better judgement but with #Rule 2 firmly in mind, I show them my ‘Alien registration card’ (I’m not calling it that nasty racist word everyone uses for it) and am finally able to write down their badge numbers.
Not their names however as they refuse to give me their names claiming their badge numbers are enough.

We are now about 10 minutes into our little dance and I have already missed my express train for work, a fact that I point out repeatedly to Officer#1 to no avail.

I knew what question was coming next and like the programmed robot I expected him to be I was not disappointed, “Can we look in your bag?”

Now I’ve really had enough of these bullies and their disrespect for the laws of their own country, so I pull out my phone and call my wife, who thank the little baby Jesus had a day off and was shopping in Shibuya.(God alone knows how this would have panned out if she had been at work 40 minutes away and probably unable to answer the phone)

On the third (THANK YOU!!!) try she answers, I explain in English whats happening, “I’ll be there in 5 minutes” she says.

So, we wait , in silence now as I have decided not to answer anymore questions until my wife arrives.

5 long, long minutes later she arrives.
I explain again in English what is happening and she turns to the ‘officers’ and asks what is going on and what their names are.
Surprise, surprise the ‘officers’ are suddenly very polite and standing at a respectful distance instead of oppressively close, they tell her their names and attempt to make excuses for their behaviour.
Suddenly my very being is legitamized because I have the blessing of another Japanese person, one that is prepared to marry me no less, so I can’t be all that bad.
2 minutes later after an exchange I don’t fully grasp and with my bag unsearched we walk away, the shockingly rude ‘officers’ apologizing to her for disrupting her shopping, but not to me for keeping me there for 20 plus minutes, making me late for work and having broken at least 2 laws themselves.

I cannot stop myself, my blood is boiling and as we walk away I turn and shout, ‘人種差別主義者このヤロー!!’ (Jinshusabetsushugisha kono yaro!! -racist bastards!) in my best angry Japanese voice and pronunciation so they know that I actually do speak Japanese after all.

There is an epilogue to this story which involves us going to the local police box that night to make a complaint against these ‘officers’, my wife being fobbed of with some bullshit about ‘post Akihabara‘ the need to search people and no good reason given at all for the blatant disregard for the Police Execution of Duties Law section 2.

Where I’m from this would have involved at the very least a written report of our complaint, but not here, the ‘officer’ in the police box didn’t either bother to write down the badge numbers of the ‘officers’ involved, there was not even the pretense that they were going to do anything about it.
The ‘Akihabara’ comment made even my wife angry (not something you see very often, the woman has the patience and calmness of a saint, she married me, she has to).
I asked the ‘officer’ in our local koban which country the guy who committed the Akihabara stabbings was from.
I also asked him if he had ever as a police officer arrested or heard of a foreigner being arrested for such a crime in Japan.
There is no need to relay his answers as they will be obvious to everyone who has even a tiny working knowledge of this country.

That in essence is my point (despite the cathartic nature of this post, which overly long as it is I doubt many people are still reading at this point) that the average person who doesn’t live here and many of the apologists who do have NO IDEA what Japan really is.

To most people its all politeness, sushi, kimonos, anime and weird ‘oh god just get to the point’ pixelated porn.

I have finally come to terms with the fact that I will never be able to change a single thing here, that if they started rounding up the foreigners and putting them in concentration camps not one of the Japanese people I call ‘friend’ would do anything about it, that no one would piss on me if I was on fire (to use a delightful English colloquialism), that no matter how good my Japanese gets or how many hours I spend teaching their children the most useful language in the world I will NEVER be a part of this society – condemned forever to be not just a foreigner but an outsider, a hakujin, a keto.

The only thing I can do is try to inform other foreigners both inside and outside the country, especially visiting tourists with their rose tinted spectacles, that just below the glittery neon surface of Japan beats the heart of a nation still stuck in the dark ages, a truly xenophobic black heart that regards everyone not of 100% Japanese blood (a joke in itself as at least 20% of the Japanese DNA is Chinese/Korean, but hey hypocrisy isn’t a problem here as long as you bow while you do it) as an inferior savage, a heart that despite effectively being the Nazis of Asia during WWII still thinks they did nothing wrong.

On an almost daily basis I speak with Japanese people, who when out of earshot of other Japanese are vocal about their distaste and contempt for these kinds of incidents, but those same people when faced with a group of people that they do not know revert quickly to the group mentality and we see just how deep their convictions go – not very.

I have tried my best to ‘adjust’ to the culture of this country, but I cannot bring myself to condone the level of racism and small mindedness that exists around every corner that a full ‘adjustment’ would require.

By asserting my rights I did something that precious few Japanese people have ever done when faced with a similar situation and that is also a huge part of why problems like the one I had with those fine upstanding ‘officers’ of the law arise.
These rights have little or no meaning in a society where no one asserts them and precious few even know about them.
They have little or no meaning when there is no recourse in the event of a situation like the one I experienced, save for to the Police themselves.

Several friends have suggested that the above conclusion is an overly pessimistic one, that many Japanese people find such abuses of power and racism repugnant, that Japan is slowly but surely changing.
I am willed to counter that the mentality that provokes even my wifes friends to react in surprise when I can use chopsticks well, is still deep down a fundamentally racist one.

In this day and age (if it ever was) ignorance is no excuse.

Now almost a week later I am no longer angry, just resigned and saddened that the Japanese people have allowed their society to become what it has.

So, I did fight the law and apart from the small moral victory of walking away without my bag being searched, the law won.

Piece of humble pie anyone?

Chairman Mao 'Commemorate watch No. 368' - ©Uchujin-Adrian Storey. All Rights reserved.

Recently my wife went to Shanghai for a little well deserved holiday and break from me.
Whenever she goes on these little trips she always brings me back some great presents, but this time she excelled herself.
Behold, a Chairman Mao ‘Commemorate watch No. 368’.
It got me thinking though……….

Mao Zedong or Mao Tse-tung as he is also known was named by Time magazine as one of the ‘100 most influential people of the 20th Century’. A controversial figure still officially venerated in China but who critics blame for severe damage to the culture, society, economy and foreign relations of China as well as a probable death toll in the tens of millions.
An icon, blazened across T-shirts the world over, second only to maybe Che Guevara, another controversial figure also in Time magazines list and proud subject of the most famous photograph in the world.
It made me think about an earlier post I made about a Japanese guy in a nazi uniform.
Would I have been so outraged if my Japanese friend was wearing a Cuddly Mao (responsible for at least as many deaths as the SS and Hitler) T-shirt or Red Army uniform?

I don’t think I would.

Which leads me to an uncomfortable but enlightening conclusion, a light shinning on the hypocrisy we are all capable of.
I know what Mao was responsible for just as I know what Hitler was responsible for, so would I wear a Hitler watch?
If not, what’s the difference, why one genocidal dictator and not another?

So, as much as I love my new watch in all its kitch glory, I probably won’t be wearing it.
I will however be looking differently at people in Mao and Che T-shirts and armed with yet another piece of righteous indignation, I may well find myself accosting even more strangers in the street with some uncomfortable facts about their fashion choices.

Afterthought:-
Many of my cultural heroes do not hold up so well under closer inspection.
Miles Davis was a violent bastard who beat up almost every woman he was ever involved with.
Jim Morrison was a sexist pig and by all accounts a total arsehole in person.
Egon Schiele was a paedophile.
JFK by many accounts played some part in the suicide of Marilyn Monroe, some claiming a pretty direct involvement.
The list is long and depressing.
I guess no one is perfect.

Santa of Nazareth

Crucified Santa ©Uchujin-Adrian Storey. All Rights reserved.

A few years ago, before I ever came to Tokyo a friend of mine (who, as an aside is now quite well known in Bollywood…..another story entirely;-), told me that a friend of a friend had once seen a window display in a Tokyo department store that was, to say the least, odd.
The Japanese, for the most part not being Christians, had gotten the Christmas story a little mixed up, and had built a display of a crucified Santa Claus.

Given the prevalence of ‘engrish’ and cultural misunderstandings, it seemed like a completely believable story. I was just annoyed that I hadn’t been there to get photographic evidence.

It turned out that this story was quite a famous urban myth, with several variations.
Some said it occurred ‘just after World War II’, some that it was ‘just a few years ago’ and the location and size of the effigy varied from Kyoto to Tokyo, from huge to tiny.

To be honest I was a little disappointed, I had so wanted it to be real.

Anyway, a few years after hearing the story I found myself back in my home town in England for an extended period over one Christmas. I was bored, there was nothing to photograph of much interest and street photography would have been taking my life into my hands, given the predilection to violence the young men of my home town show, even at the season of good will to all men.

It occurred to me that the crucified Santa image would be quite an interesting comment on the rampant consumer festival that Christmas had become, so far divorced from jesus’s birthday or the more ancient pagan origins of a festival at the winter solstice.

So, after a few days preparation with photoshop and my fathers printer I set out a few nights before Christmas and pasted up about 30 of my Christmas card to the community all around the town.

Over the next few days before Christmas I wandered around in the town, smiling everytime I saw a mother dragging her child away from the picture in disgust or an old ladys face wrinkle into a disturbed frown as she noticed my Christmas message out of the corner of her eye and stopped in her tracks to get a better look and become more offended.
Some of the paste ups people had tried to pull down or remove, but I had used good strong glue to attach them and most were almost impossible to remove.
I wondered how many people would get past their shock and think about what my Christmas gift was meant to say.

The highlight of my campaign was being in a pub that Christmas eve and overhearing a group of people discussing the crucified Santa some of them had seen all around town.
Some of them were genuinely offended, upset that someone hooligan would abuse the poor little children at Christmas with such a horrible depiction of dear Santa, but others seemed to get it and were trying to explain to the indignant ones that they thought it was an interesting comment on what Christmas had become.

I smiled quietly to myself.
“my work here is done”, I thought.

And so, I present this image as a Christmas greeting from me to you.

To all the haters I say, forgive me as Santa of Nazareth would do and worry ye not, for by easter when he is resurrected the little children stuffing their faces with overpriced chocolate eggs will have forgotten completely about the strange picture they saw of Father Christmas.

I Wear Black On The Outside.

Japanese Nazi - ©Uchujin-Adrian Storey. All Rights reserved.

Just a little Christmas shopping in Akihabara, a beautiful sunny winter day, The Monkees on my iPod and some of those fantastic Onigiri (natto ume and a Tuna mayo with konbu)……
Smoking a cigarette and thinking about a little trip to Pop Life ;-) and I spot this guy just wandering along talking to his friend (another “oh isn’t it just so kawaii the cos-play culture in Japan” child in a mans body).

A few seconds of speechless inaction as I realize that the depths that some people will sink to has managed to shock me once again, no matter how unshockable I think I have become.

I can feel the anger rising and consider the courses of action open to me, One of which would ,despite the fact that it was a guy in a f$%king SS uniform I had just beaten to a pulp, would have resulted in a telephone call free, sleep deprived stay with Tokyo’s notoriously foreigner friendly boys in blue.
So, with great thanks that this was happening in broad daylight on a crowded street and not at night when I had a few beers in me, I was able to choose a much more sensible option.

Up I stroll, with a big “don’t be afraid little man” smile, and ask the wanker gentleman in my most polite Japanese if I can take his picture.
Much to my surprise he happily agreed (definitely a good thing as I fear option 1 may have taken over if he’d said no) and even apologized for forgetting his SS armband that completes the outfit that day.

I shot 4 or 5 frames, thanked him through clenched teeth and walked away.

Now that the narative is over , anyone who knows me will be expecting me to launch into a screaming rant on the topic of racism and xenophobia in Japan.

Im not going to.

I have reached a point where I just dont care enough to try, and as one commenter on my flickr stream where this picture was originally posted said, “looks like nature is taking it’s own revenge on his skin…“

In many countries it would be illegal to walk around in that most offensive of offensive outfits, in many others he would have been beaten to a pulp, but not here.

As far as I can fathom it there are two explanations for this guy:
1) He was a genuine Nazi, in which case I begrudgingly feel a trace of respect for him, for in a country where people very rarely (except for the ultra-rightists) have the backbone to actually stand up for what they believe in, this man was wearing his true colours , in place of the missing armband, on his sleeve for all to see.
Still a vile and disgusting little man, please don’t misunderstand me, but one with a trace of balls.

or

2) He was tragically unaware of the full weight of the symbolism which he was playing with.
In this case, the afore mentioned beating (and i REALLY don’t condone violence) may just have done him some good, made him go home and think about ‘why’, maybe, just maybe, get even a hint of a clue about what his cos-play fun actually meant.
Unfortunately, I doubt it.

So you see, there will be no rant, because I have come to understand that a people get the society they deserve, so I will just post the picture and let you make up your own mind.