Kuidaore Ningyo

One of Osaka's more popular tourist spots, this little guy is a mystery to me. His name is Kuidaore Ningyo, kuidaore is to eat oneself into ruin and ningyo means doll, although I have heard other names for him. He stands in front of the Kuidaore restaurant building, and, as far as I can tell, has nothing to do with anything. What the reasoning was behind having a robot clown represent some upscale restaurants, I cannot fathom.

But the people love him! Well, maybe just the Japanese. Every time I pass by, there are at least twenty people crowding around to pose and take pictures with the little bugger. I always stop and watch, trying to figure out what draws people to this thing.

"What does he do?" One might ask. Not much, really. He beats the drum, turns his head, opens his mouth, and blinks his eyes. Very slowly. To wierd music.

"Does he have any historical significance?" Only if being a robot clown in front of a restuarant for over 50 years counts. This is the answer I get from my native friends as to why he's so popular. Appearently, long-lasting mechanical objects are a big draw here.

It gets me thinking about what makes something a landmark or a tourist-spot. I've always been the American tourist, taking pictures in front of the Grand Canyon, Statue of Libery, Washington Monument, and the like. It's gotta be big, exciting, and part of our country's proud heritage! And then I come out here and find people in love with a vintage Ronald McDonald.

Mitarai Valley

After weeks of planning, I finally got off my lazy ass and went down to Rinkanden Entoshi to visit one of my students. This is about an hour's train ride south of Osaka, albeit through some beautiful country. The plan was to leave Saturday afternoon, be treated like a Japanese son for the evening, and then taken sightseeing Sunday morning. I had been watching the forecasts all week, and it looked like a nice, partly-cloudy weekend was lined up.

Well, the weather didn't play its part, but the rest of the weekend panned out nicely. Upon arrival, I helped my student with some of her translation work and then gave my paltry hand at helping in the kitchen. Now, I can cook for myself - I do so more often than not these days - but I'm dead weight in the kitchen of a pro housewife. I managed to peel two potatoes, chop an avocado, and serve some dishes, while she ran circles around me. But she did praise my efforts, and maybe I learned some more Japanese cooking techniques.

As for my bed, I was given their son's former room - he's off at university in Hiroshima. The bed was a bit short, but they made some adjustments by tossing extra padding at its foot. I was also piled high with blankets; a necessity with the cold nights and absolute lack of insulation or central heating in Japanese houses. A goodnight's sleep none-the-less.

Waking up at the crack of 10am (they let me sleep in), we packed into the van and rolled through the mountains to Mitarai Valley. Here in Japan, the journey is just as monumental as the destination - especially to me. I ride in a car maybe once a month here, so that's always a kick. And barreling through the narrow, winding, cliff-side streets is nothing if not an exercise in terror suppression. I know one thing, I could not live in the Japanese countryside, I would drive right the hell off a cliff.

The valley itself was spectacular. Granted, frigid rain and wind put a damper on the day's activities, but seeing the clouds rolling up and through the mountains was almost worth it. As I've lived in Florida all my life, things like "mountains," "valleys," "waterfalls," and "autumn" may as well be replaced with "unicorns," "elves," and "compassionate conservatives" (zing!). We mostly climbed up the ever-so-Japanese, ever-so-convenient mountain staircases, looked around, took some snapshots, and proceeded back down. But the trek did bring us into a neat little limestone cave and a beautiful waterfall. Again, things not so common back in Florida. After a few hours of driving around to the various tourist hotspots - denoted by then-empty parking lots - we made our way back to the house. And, as we all know how these vacation stories go, the sun broke through the clouds and shined across the valley as we drove out. A weekend well-spent, despite some miserable weather. I also snagged a $2 bag of kaki (persimmons)!

Fun at the Beach

Seeing as how summer just packed up and got the hell outta here, I'll take a moment to reminisce about a fun or perhaps strange little game played at beaches and picnics. The Japanese name escapes me, probably something with suika (watermelon) in it. The game is like breaking a pinata (sorry, no tilde accent there), but with a watermelon. Simply blindfold a friend, make them get dizzy, give them a bat, and shout where the target is.

Most of us non-Japanese consider this a pretty strange way to eat a watermelon, as you'd figure it would get rather dirty, what with all the bits of melon being smashed about. But they do put the fruit on a tarp, and I guess baseball bats are clean enough. Maybe it's a throwback to some primitive hunting scenario; you find the prey, bludgeon it, and tear into its juicy, red remains with your family and friends. Looks like quite a lot of fun, but I've never tried it, watermelons are too expensive.

The First Post

Hi, my name's Nick, welcome to my blog. I'm living in Japan now, so I'm going to try making most of these posts relative to my experiences here as a foreigner. If you find it interesting, you should also look at my friend's site, www.stupot.com/blog, as his is the inspiration for this one.

And please note the title of this blog, a reference to an obscure bit of Simpsons trivia.