Old Photographs of Japan
http://www.oldphotosjapan.com
"A multilingual photoblog with daily uploads of rare photographs and postcards of Japan between 1860 and the 1930's.
These images display an abundance of information about the urban settings and customs of Japan. This is further augmented by well-researched articles accompanying the images. Many of the articles contain maps and additional illustrations, making them a very useful resource on modern Japan, especially the Meiji, Taisho and early Showa periods.
The photographs can be searched by keyword, period, theme, location, photographer and medium."
Westerlingen en Japanners interpreteren gelaatsuitdrukkingen verschillend, las ik in de krant. Westerlingen zien emoties als individuele gevoelens, maar Japanners daarentegen zien emoties in samenhang met de groep. Zo zou onderzoek uitgewezen hebben. Of een lachend kind temidden een groep lachende dan wel ernstige kinderen staat, maakt voor een westerling niet zoveel uit. De westerling interpreteert de lach van het kind los van de groep. De Japanner echter kijkt ook naar de gemoedstoestand van de omringende groep. Lacht de omringende groep niet, dan interpreteert de Japanner het lachende kind merkelijk minder gelukkig.
Dit deed me denken aan Japanse smileys. Japanners snappen westerse emoticons niet altijd. De :) is in Japan (^_^) en de :( is (;_;). Dat is perfect verklaarbaar, stond in LiveScience.com: omdat het in Japan niet altijd gepast is om breed te lachen, zijn voor de Japanners de ogen belangrijker dan de mond. Onderzoek heeft inderdaad bevestigd dat Amerikanen meer naar de mond dan naar de ogen kijken. Zo waarderen Amerikanen een lachende mond met droevige ogen als vrolijker dan Japanners dat doen.
In ieder geval, Japanse smileys zijn bijzonder gevarieerd. Meer hier.
(Gepost in De Standaard Expatblog)

"In Naka Ward’s Yamate area, the slopes going down towards the Yokohama Doll Museum make up the area that is still today called 'French Hill", or furansu-yama. The origin of this name comes from the long history of foreigner settlement in Yokohama; about 130 years ago, the French military was stationed near French Hill, while the British had its military in the area of today’s Minato-no-mieru-oka Park/Iwasaki Museum.
Foreign military did not always have a large presence in Japan. Although conflicts between Japanese and foreigners took place constantly with the influx of the foreign population, the Shogunate government, asserting its sovereign right, took the responsibility of mediating conflicts and ensuring the security of the Settlement.
The turning point came in 1862, when the samurai of Shimazu Hisamitsu, father of the lord of the powerful Satsuma domain (today’s Kagoshima Prefecture), clashed with a group of foreigners at Namamugi-mura Village, which left one foreigner dead and two wounded (See Now and Then 23). The reason of the clash – cultural misunderstanding, hubris of the foreigners, or willful murder committed by the Japanese due to their dislike of foreigners – remains unknown, but the Namamugi Incident eventually led to the stationing of French and British garrisons to protect their respective legations in the Settlement (...)
As elsewhere, the British and the French delighted in games of one-upmanship. The French, for example, built their flagpole higher than that of the British, while the British made sure they had more troops than the French.
The French also cultivated shogunate officials, especially the highly capable Oguri Tadamasa, who, along with Kurimoto Kon, welcomed their help in constructing a naval shipyard at Yokosuka. The French also established a language school and a small iron and steel plant near Ishikawa-cho. All this reflected the desire of Paris to build up its influence as part of its global competition with the British. The French Minister Léon Roches, who served as a translator for the French army for several years in North Africa before joining the foreign service, vastly overrated the shogunate’s chances. But his liberal support for the government no doubt encouraged Harry Parkes, the British minister, to cultivate contacts with the pro-Emperor party. Eventually, Roches lost the trust of the French government, which ordered him home in the middle of 1868.
The foot soldiers could not have enjoyed all this tit-for-tat tomfoolery very much, since the conditions under which they were forced to live on Camp Hill were hardly idyllic. At first the British simple erected tents on the fields covered with nightsoil that stank to high heaven, while a damp fog clung to the heights in the morning. Many soldiers died of smallpox. When drunk, which by all accounts was a frequent occurrence, the Englsih akatai ("red troops") were referred to as akatombo, or "red dragonflies". Similarly, the French were known as the "blue troops".
Foreign residents were allowed to lease land on the Bluff from 1867. Nevertheless, the foreign residents were clearly happy to have troopers nearby. Writing in 1866, A.B. Mitford, the Second Secretary to the British Legation, admitted that "for nearly four years I never wrote a note without having a revolver on the table and never went to bed without a Spencer rifle and bayonet at my hand". The foreign troops were not withdrawn till 1875."
Source:
John Carroll, 'Trail of Two Cities', ed. Kodansha, Tokyo, 1994, p. 87-88
And
Yokohama Echo, August 2004

"The period between the arrival of Commodore Matthew Perry's Black Ships at Kurihama in 1853 and the Meiji Restoration in 1868 was a tumultuous and dangerous time for the foreigners who lived in Yokohama.
Japan was in the heat of an internal struggle for power, precipitated by Perry's arrival, between the Tokugawa Shogunate and those who advocated the return of the Emperor to the throne. Many of the followers of the latter group, led by the Satsuma and Choshu clans (in present-day Kagoshima and Yamaguchi Prefectures), fervently pursued the exclu-sionist sonno-joi ideology (expel the barbarians, revere the Emperor). This manifes-ted itself in numerous attacks, often fatal, on the foreign residents of Japan.
One of the most notorious such attacks was the so-called Namamugi Incident, which took place in 1862 in the village of the same name located just off of the old Tokaido road, in present-day Tsurumi Ward. Charles Lenox Richardson, a British merchant visiting Yokohama from Shanghai, was on horseback headed for a sightseeing trip to the Kawasaki-Daishi temple with three British companions. On route, at Namamugi, they encountered the 1000-strong procession of Shimazu Hisamitsu, the powerful daimyo of Satsuma, who was on his way back to southern Japan from the capital, Edo. The tourists looked on at the procession from horseback and did not dismount when ordered to (whether this was due to miscommunication or due to arrogance is still unclear), which enraged the retainers of Lord Shimazu. On the grounds that the foreigners were not showing the proper respect to their lord, the samurai unsheathed their katana and attacked, cutting down Richardson and seriously wounding two of his companions. This incident had a great impact on political and everyday life at the time. Foreigners became increasingly angry at the number of attacks against their ranks and called for their govern-ments to take action, while at the same time they felt increasingly vulnerable and worried for their own safety. Defences in the residential areas of Yokohama were quickly reinforced.
Events culminated in the Anglo-Satsuma War, in which British warships were sent to Kagoshima to "settle" the dispute one year later in 1863. Kagoshima was shelled relentlessly, and it is estimated that 180,000 people were displaced in what became a showcase of the "barbarians" superior military power. The war served as an important psychological turning point for both sides. Having witnessed with their own eyes the stark realities of what Western technology could do, the incident provided the impetus for the Satsuma clan to do an about-face with regards to their exclusionist ideology, and they became champions of modernizing Japan in the Western model. The British also sustained substantial losses in the battle, and they were forced to acknowledge the strength of the Satsuma clan, while also facing jeers from other nations for their "defeat" at Kagoshima."
Source: Yokohama Echo, March 2003
More: Burritt Sabin, 'A historical guide to Yokohama', ed. Yurindo, Yokohama, 2002, p. 272-280
De Obama-trein dendert voort. De kandidaat voor de Democratische presidentsnominatie surft van overwinning naar overwinning. Barack Obama heeft zelfs steun uit zeer onverwachte hoek gekregen: de inwoners van een Japans visserstadje scharen zich als één man achter Obama.

"The seed of Yamate park, formerly the Bluff Gardens, was planted by one W.H. Smith. He came to Japan as an officer in the Royal Marine Light Infantry in 1864. We don’t know whether the soldier’s life no longer agreed with him or whether he was bewitched by Japan, or both, but he resigned his commission and in a short time was known as Public-Spirited, not Lieutenant, Smith. His good works on behalf of the small foreign community earned him this epithet (…)
Yamate Park, originally know as the Bluff Gardens opened in the summer of 1870. It was the first Western-style park in Japan. The first month there was no admission charge, and from July 1 a small admission fee was charged those who did not subscribe.
The gardens were a success, initially. The band of H.M.’s 1st Batallion 10th Regiment played Saturday afternoons, and evenings there were al fresco soirees by the light of Japanese lanterns (…)
But the palmy days did not last. Subscribers were too few to cover the rent. The gardens sank deeper into the red. The Government wanted to lease the land for housing. Then Sir Harry Parkes, the British Ambassador, brokered a reduction in the land rent. That allowed the women in the Settlement to form the Ladies Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club (LLT&CC) in 1878. Thus Bluff Gardens became the birthplace of modern tennis in Japan (…)
The LLT&CC, now the YITC (Yokohama International Tennis Community), is Japan’s oldest tennis club. The LLT&CC was the exclusive preserve of women. Men, after all, had the United Club, numerous sports facilities, and the pleasure quarter. Gentlemen could, however, be admitted to the LLT&CC as honorary members. Japanese were ineligible for membership. Children and dogs were barred from the grounds. Later men were admitted, and still later, in 1964, Japanese. Now children can join too. Still excluded is man’s best friend."
(Burritt Sabin, 'A historical guide to Yokohama', ed. Yurindo, Yokohama, 2002, p. 27-29)


"For fifteen years, Stephan Vanfleteren has captured portraits and landscapes of small towns in Belgium. The series, "Belgicum", consists of black-and-white photographs that document the phenomena of everyday life in Flanders and Wallonia. In contrast to the vibrant and contemporary Belgium often portrayed in the media, the works reveal a glimpse of the melancholic and somewhat nostalgic world that is rarely exposed to public eyes."


Grote opschudding in Japan: er zijn sporen van giftige insecticide aangetroffen in diepgevroren gerechten uit China. Officieel is bevestigd dat tot nu toe een tiental mensen zwaar ziek zijn geworden door het eten van gyoza (een soort knoedels) geproduceerd in China. De media is in rep en roer. Vandaag heeft het persagentschap Kyodo gemeld dat er over heel het land al zeker 500 zieken zijn geteld. De regering heeft een crisiscel opgezet en een lange lijst verspreid van diepvriesproducten van het Chinese voedselverwerkende bedrijf dat in opspraak is gekomen.

Voor de jonge Japanners is de auto geen statussymbool meer. Een recente peiling van de Japanse autoconstructeurs heeft aangetoond dat de jongeren hun schouders ophalen voor de auto. Ooit was het anders. Tien, twintig jaar geleden droomden alle jonge mannen van 'doraibu' ('drive', 'driving'): eigenaar van een mooie wagen, een vriendinnetje in de passagierszetel en samen rondrijden tijdens de weekends.
Vandaag heeft slechts 30% van de twintigers interesse voor auto's. Meer dan de helft vindt dat de auto enkel een middel is om zich te verplaatsen. Slechts 6,7% van de hedendaagse jongeren zegt dat een wagen onmisbaar is om met meisjes uit te gaan.
Voor de stadsbewoners alvast is de auto meer een last dan een plezier. Ook ik wil geen auto. Een paar evidente redenen op een rijtje:
*In de steden is het treinnet ontzettend efficiënt en sneller dan elk ander vervoermiddel.
*Een auto kopen kan niet zonder parkeerplaats. Zo kost een onoverdekte staanplaats naast ons flatgebouw 40.000 yen (250 euro) per maand.
*De auto op de openbare weg laten staan mag in principe niet. Dus moet bij elke uitstap aan een parkingplaats gedacht worden en dat kost gemiddeld 600 yen (3,8 euro) per uur. *Het verkeer is tergend langzaam. Tijdens het weekend mogen we in de bebouwde zones gemakkelijk rekenen op een uur om 15km af te leggen.
Geen wonder dat de gemiddelde autobezitter in Japan slechts 8.000km per jaar aflegt. *In de dichtbevolkte Japanse steden is alles nabij. Om dit te illustreren heb ik mijn thuisadres ingetypt in de website 'Address Power' en dit is het resultaat:
Meer dan 100 restaurants en bars, 24 kappers, 40 banken, 27 boekenwinkels, 27 warenhuizen, 52 superettes, 7 bioscopen, 13 bejaardeninstellingen, 14 supermarkten, 18 vrijetijdetablissementen (karaoke,etc), 7 videoverhuurwinkels, 5
crèches en kleuterscholen, 11 trein- en metrostations, 11 ‘love hotels’, 92 seksclubs(!) en 7 tempels. Dat alles in een straal van 1,5km.





"The theater district provided people respite from hardscrabble lives. Theaters opened as early as eight o’clock in the morning and the day’s program ran through eleven o’clock at night.Note:
The Nigiwai-za was known as the Handkerchief Theater, for it was the favorite of the 'handkerchief women', who sewed and embroidered silk handkerchiefs in the cottage factories on the back streets. They wore around the neck silk handkerchiefs that were perks of the job. In the evening groups of them gadded about town, crimson, purple, blue, or peach-colored handkerchiefs gaily adorning their kimono collars. Young punks mingled with them, for which reason the term 'handkerchief woman' had a disreputable ring.
But the handkerchief women were the nucleus of the Yokohama's economy, and they vied to earn the most money. There were lavish spenders. The Kabuki was the favorite indulgence. Their handkerchiefs rendered the Nigiwai-za's pit a sea of color. They shouted in their peculiar voices the names of favorite actors.
In 1890s Yoshikawa Eiji, later a popular writer of period fiction, went with his grandfather to the Nigiwai-za. He was too young to appreciate the plucky lasses with the colorful kerchiefs worn chicly around the neck. But his grandfather, sake cup in the hand, reveled in the nubile audience and in the daylong play viewing. Eiji would play hooky from his Chinese classics lesson and go to the theaters."
(Burritt Sabin, 'A historical guide to Yokohama', ed. Yurindo, Yokohama, 2002, p. 102-103)

"Rain lashed Yokohama in the early morning of September 1, 1923. By nine o'clock the rain stopped and the sky cleared. But shortly before noon the earth rumbled like distant thunder. Then the ground heaved in waves. The earth shook for four minutes.
The epicenter of the quake, with a magnitude of 7.9, was beneath Sagami Bay. It was powerful enough to have been felt throughout almost all of Japan.
Yokohama's premier buildings were made of brick, a material promoted for construction after the 1866 fire. But the brick construction of the time could not withstand a strong quake (...) Sam Robinson, Captain of the 'Empress of Australia', observed from his ship bridge all the buildings on the Bund dissolve as if built of sand.
The quake struck at 11:58, just as families were preparing meals in charcoals stoves. Embers set paper-and-wood houses ablaze (...) The firestorm was so intense that it rained the city's printed matter down upon the Boso Peninsula across Uraga Strait (...)
Captain Robinson, as soon as the dust settled and he saw the annihilation of the city, decided to turn the 'Empress of Australia', about to leave the port, into a relief ship. Many refugees owed their lives to this decision.
In Kannai, people fled the flames to Yokohama Park. En route to the park many burned to death or drowned in canals because bridges had collapsed. Water from burst mains flooded the park, and refugees stood knee-deep in water. Flames gradually enclosed the park. Some refugees risked the flames for fear of drowning. But the water rose no higher and kept the flames from the park. The park was a life-saving refuge for 50,000 people (...)
Otis Manchester Poole, a long-time Yokohama resident left a first-person account of the earthquake and its aftermath. Having returned to Yokohama from his Kobe refuge a week or so after the calamity, he saw everywhere 'charred corpses, pathetic shrunken mummies. The canals, docks and slips were filled with bodies, bloated to an orange shapelessness, scattered amongst masses of rubbish that choked every waterway. Here and there the funnels sunken launches protruded from the scum. Many of the bodies of Japanese which still littered the streets were being methodically collected into piles of four or six and crudely, though with surprising completeness, cremated under sheets of corrugated iron laid across them.'
Yet there was comic relief. A French woman happened to be bathing in her room on an upper floor of the Oriental Hotel when the building collapsed leaving her exposed in the tub held up by the plumbing. A passerby heard the screams and clambered up to the pipes to rescue her.
People tend to think of the earthquake as the 'Tokyo earthquake'. But Yokohama suffered proportionately more than the capital. Of its 99,840 houses, only 4,957 were undamaged. Of a population of 448,472 , 21,384 were killed and 1,951 were missing. The national government, too, took a Tokyo-centric outlook, and in reconstruction funding favored the capital at the port's expense."
(Burritt Sabin, 'A historical guide to Yokohama', ed. Yurindo, Yokohama, 2002, p. 283-285)
