Frankly, if I was the girl where all they took were my eyebrows, I'd be really upset.

I’m off for a couple of weeks enjoying a lovely holiday, so probably won’t be able to update this blog for a little while.  But before I go, just a quick post about a recent news item in Japan.

AKB48 are a pretty popular “idol” group, who like Anpanman, hold the Guinness World Record for the highest number of members.  Idol groups are Japanese girl / boy bands, and are often linked to a department store where they make appearances.  These groups inspire huge devotion from fans in their local area, even if the band is not that well-known nationally.  And they have cross-generational appeal, albeit in slightly creepy way. It is not at all unusual to see middle-aged men forming long queues to see their favourite member.

AKB48 is named after the Akihabara district of Tokyo, where the Don Quijote department store, home of AKB48 is based.  The group is currently divided into four teams – Team A, Team B, Team K and Team 4, with between 10 and 16 members in each – and was unleashed upon the world with the promise that these would be “idols you can meet” (so long as you went to the store).

Aimi Eguchi – cute but a little fake?
On the 11th June it was announced that Aimi Eguchi, a 16-year old girl who had tried out for rival band NMB48, would be joining AKB48 as a trainee and 58th member.  Aimi Eguchi was from Saitama, a prefecture on the island of Honshu and enjoyed competing in track and field sports.  She made her first appearance for AKB48 in an advert for a new snack food for Ezaki Glico, and appeared on the cover of Japanese magazine Weekly Playboy.  She was cute, and was rapidly growing a loyal fanbase.  But she pointedly did not come out to meet them at the Don Quijote.

There was something fishy about Aimi.  Her birthday, the 11th February, was the same day that Ezaki Glico was founded.  The letters in her name were very similar (in Japanese) to the name of the company, and though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, there was something very familiar about her.

Suspicions were raised, and a few weeks later it was announced that Aimi Eguchi was, in fact, computer generated – a composite of 6 of the other members of the band – and had been created to promote bite-sized ice cream pellets.  Her constituent parts are:

• Atsuko Maeda (eyes)
• Tomomi Itano (nose)
• Mariko Shinoda (mouth)
• Yuko Oshima (hair/body)
• Minami Takahashi (outline)
• Mayu Watanabe (eyebrows)

And you can see how she was put together here:

This news upset a lot of otakus, but left me feeling like computer generated cyborgs are the awesome future of pop music.  In any case, dry your sweaty fat eyes otaku manboys, because Aimi has recorded a message of consolation:

I’ll update this with a translation of what’s she’s “saying” when I get one from someone who speaks Japanese.

A little piece of bathtime heaven

As part of a now regular tradition, my brother sent me some Japanese bath bombs. In the same way that the Japanese have taken the toilet and evolved it, Pokemon style, to incorporate water jets, a heated seat and a fake flushing noise to press to cover your from embarassment when you’re doing really noisy ones, they have likewise taken the common bath bomb to its natural next evolution.

And what is that next evolution? Well – I’ll never forget my first time with a Japanese bath bomb. The bubbles! The sickly green colour that oozed out of it! And emerging from the water – why! It’s a plastic prawn! On a stick!

In previous years my brother has sent me bath salts designed specifically for my blood type (though he didn’t know what blood type I was, so sent me all the different types with the warning – “don’t use the wrong one, it’ll probably be like acid on your skin or something”). This year, he’s elected for an Anpanman bath bomb; who is a personal favourite of mine. Anpanman is the star of an anime for kids, whose name roughly translates as BeanPasteMan. The cartoon consists of BeanPasteMan’s attempts to save Uncle Jam (who is some jam) and his friends WhiteBreadHeadMan (who has some white bread for a head) and CurryBreadMan (you get the idea) from the evil machinations of Germ Man.

I suppose it’s a bit like the Munch Bunch. The difference being that the Munch Bunch were tasty fruits, whereas bean paste and curry bread are disgusting. Excitingly, there is a project to translate Anpanman episodes and host them on Youtube, here.

Apparently, Anpanman holds the Guinness World Record for the highest number of characters in a cartoon – I think close to 2000 individual characters. But when this includes WhiteBreadHeadMan, Uncle Jam and Cheese the dog, I think they’re probably pretty easy to come up with. In fact, just looking at my desk right now I just came up with ClockOnADeskMan and EmptyMug the fish.

Anyway, from packet to toy – here is the evolution of the bath bomb:

Look at his little bean-paste face!

It reminds me of The Shining. Or perhaps Ghostbusters 2.

Hang on, this isn't Anpanman. Where's my Anpanman toy? This is WhiteBreadHeadMan or something. I can barely contain my disappointment.

Daijoubu? You're already dead

Daijoubu (大丈夫 or だいじょうぶ） In english slang, used as: 1. It’s okay. 2. I’m okay (not hurt). 3. That’s fine. 4. Are you okay? – urban dictionary.

“Daijoubu” is what you say if you want to check if someone is OK, and is ubiquitous in anime mostly because people are always falling over (to see girls’ pants), getting hit on the heads (for looking at girls’ pants), or being struck by laser beams. “Daijoubu” is a personal favourite because it’s both a question and an answer; the equivalent of ‘alright?’, ‘alright’ in English. I like to imagine a Japanese version of Manchester, where lads in parka jackets wander around nodding at each other. I think this place might be Osaka.

“Daijoubu” should not be confused with “Genki desu ka?”, which is more like a formal “How are you?”. And definitely don’t get it mixed up when a cute Japanese waitress has just dropped a glass on the floor, and you think that going up to her and asking if she’s alright will impress her. If you do get the two phrases mixed up, don’t then swish your hair around, give your brother a sly wink and walk out of the store thinking you are pretty much the coolest guy – and that probably she’ll go and tell all her friends about how this amazing English guy walked up and expressed his concern in fluent Japanese.

You’ve actually just gone up to a poor startled waitress and said the equivalent of “Pleased to meet you”, getting only a confused “Um, pleased to meet you too?” from the poor girl in return as you smugly wander out.

Damp manga is used to grow radish sprouts; but to me it’s like watching little manga trees grow.

Other works by Koshi Kawachi have included a rather sad piece on the death of Mario and some rather tasty looking buddhas.

Great Teacher Onizuka - surely the greatest baka of them all.

In our continuing feature, Otaku-it!, I thought I’d write about the word “Baka”. This ensures that this feature has thus far only covered words that Japanese people and my brother use to insult me.

Baka (馬鹿, ばか, or バカ) is a frequently used Japanese language word meaning “fool; idiot; jerk; dolt; imbecile; foolish; stupid; worthless; absurd; ridiculous; Idiotic”. – wikipedia.

“Baka” seems to be every other word in most anime, a bit like the ‘f-word’ if you’re on a bus near Portsmouth. It tends to be shouted at man who has just tripped over and accidentally seen some girl’s pants or something. Broadly it means ‘you idiot!’, and is usually accompanied with a clip round the ear for comic effect.

However, because Japanese is a language that doesn’t really seem to have a lot of swear words, “Baka” serves as an all purpose insult. Depending on the context and the social situation can be seen as a term of endearment, or the single most offensive thing you could ever possibly say.

I was once walking down the street with my brother in Japan, this was after he’d been living there for about 2 years, and I called him “baka”. He totally flipped out! You could see that his heart was pounding, his eyes were everywhere and there was (even more) sweat poring off him. He was convinced that we’d be chased from the country by villagers with brands and pitchforks. The irony was that I couldn’t have picked a more appropriate and context sensitive occasion to use the word.

Because he is a “baka”.

Look at him, with his stupid face. I'll get him one day, mark my words.

If you have any sense you should steer clear of this blog detailing the misfortunes and misadventures of my hiterto good friend, now blog nemesis and immediate relative. The foolish idiot has decided that rather than follow the time-worn path of correct spelling and grammar, he will throw caution and punctuation to the wind.

Does he think that being laugh out loud funny is enough? Why would you want to read about a man who threatens to kill people on his second post, and pretends to be married so that he can steal food from kindly old people?

I can’t think of a single reason why you would want to visit A Gaijin’s guide to getting lost in Japan.

So please don’t. As I’m afraid you won’t come back.

Bottle-glasses, bad skin, sweaty, fat, clutching at a doll - this guy's got to be otaku.

I thought I’d write a quick little feature on some basic vocabulary that I’ve picked up, called Otaku-it!.  And, since it’s in the title of the feature, I thought I would start with that most basic and fundamental word of all: Otaku.

Otaku (おたく / オタク^?) is a Japanese term used to refer to people with obsessive interests, particularly anime, manga, or video games. – wikipedia

In Japan “Otaku” always used to be an extremely negative word – implying a whole list of cultural associations.  Ask a Japanese person to describe an Otaku and they’ll describe a slighty fat, sweaty, late teen / early twenty male with bottle glasses and poor personal hygeine clutching tightly onto a (surely underage!) figurine from Neon Evangelion wandering around Akihabara.  Otaku is the Japanese equivalent of “nerd” or “geek”.

In the last 10 or so years though, the word has come to mean something slightly different.  Many of those in the West who were interested in Japanese culture, and particularly anime, started describing themselves as “otaku”; wearing the term as a badge of pride.  Otakus in Japan also started adopting the moniker – proudly declaring that they were otaku to demonstrate their distance from the mainstream, and taking pride in their hobbies and interests.

With Western culture appropriating more and more anime iconography, and with prominent artists and celebrities in Japan describing themselves as otaku, or being clearly influenced by the otaku sub-culture, the word is not so fiercely negative as it once was.

Now, while to be described as otaku by someone in Japan is slightly embarassing, there is a certain ‘geek chic’ to the term as well, and it tends to be used by Japanese people in a more gently teasing manner than as particularly insulting.

At least, I hope it’s not particularly insulting, as they’re always shouting “otaku” at me!

There might be a giant talking monkey next to him, but he probably won't mention it.

Phew – it’s been a while!

In my defence, in the time since the last post I did each of the following at least once:

• moved to London
• finished Deadly Premonition
• started a new job
• went on one of those secret supper club things
• bought a house
• stood next to Sarah from Girl’s Aloud at a bar
• been hynoptised

So it’s not like I haven’t been busy or anything. But finally, now I have a few minutes while my wife watches Step Up 3 to jot down some thoughts on one of my all time favourite authors, Haruki Murakami.

Agent Francis York Morgan, utterly obsessed with coffee and biscuits

Just a quick post this week as it’s Beatles week on X-Factor, and I want to see Cher Lloyd murder a classic.  Also, I’m a bit concerned that my posts are too long and people can’t be bothered to read to the end of them.  I can’t always be bothered to write all the way to the end of them, so I perfectly understand.

I’m in the middle of playing Deadly Premonition; a very strange proposition.  You play “intuitive” FBI agent Francis York Morgan (call him York, everyone does), investigating the murder of a young girl in an American town, deep in the forests, where the people aren’t quite what they seem.  The comparisons with Twin Peaks are blatent, but the game doesn’t suffer for them.  I have to lay my cards on the table here and admit that I love Twin Peaks anyway, so it was always going to be a winner for me.

As with Twin Peaks, the game has a peculiar dream-like quality, veering suddenly from kooky comedy to survival horror.  Some critics have complained about this, saying that these sudden changes in mood undermine the claustraphobic tone of the horror sections. 

However, personally I really like this about Deadly Premonition, as I find these tonal shifts actually serve to heighten both the comedy and the horror.  The combat comes as a particular shock when you’ve just been running after a dalmation with a fat man while someone raps over the top.  The comedy sections are a great relief coming so soon after the combat.

The script is great, the voice-acting is spot on, yes the sidequests are a bit pointless, and yes the combat is fiddly (and a bit repetitive), but it is more than the sum of its parts.  And whilst it feels like the individual parts miss a degree of polish, there are so many individual parts it’s practically impossible to avoid being entertained.  The game manages to incorporate RE4 action horror, an open-world setting, a fishing sim, a darts sim, an adventure game, and racing sections, amongst many other things.  And (sort of) tying everything together is a weird but great story.

BTW: The image is by ~Gil-ED, here.

You would be surprised how difficult it is to find an appropriate picture of a naked man in an onsen

I know there are a lot of guides on social etiquette when it comes to the Japanese. However, I have come to realise that I have inherited my father’s spectacular ability to alwaysmanage to commit every possible faux pas in any social situation. I am consequently indebted to the Japanese for actually being very kind and polite about it whenever I unknowingly stomp all over their cultural taboos.

I therefore thought would record all my cringe-worthy missteps along the rocky road of international relations, as a sort of apology. And so that both of my readers would know what not to do if they are ever in the same situation.

Onsen

For the first in this series, I thought I would explain about the onsen. Onsen are Japanese public baths or hot springs, and are found in most towns and in a lot of traditional Japanese bed and breakfasts (called ryokans). Like pretty much everything in Japanese society, the onsen experience is deeply rooted in tradition.

Public onsen are (mostly) single-sex and apart from a tinytowel utterly nude. I have visited Japan 3 times and have never quite been brave enough to face a public onsen. I have however, tried a private onsen in a ryokan.

My wife, brother and I were were visiting Nikko, a beautiful town a couple of hours north of Tokyo. Nikko is actually a world heritage site due to the shogunate mausoleum (for Tokugawa) nestled in the forest. We were staying at the Turtle Inn, which was a cute ryokan / youth hostel close to the river.

I knew that there was an onsen there. I had heard that you could listen to the river outside. I was determined to try it out. However, even in private the rules apply to the onsen experience so I had read up extensively, adamant that this time I would be able to tell my brother that I had got it right. That this time he wouldn’t just look at me with eyes bulging and mouth agape before slowly shaking his head and telling me that I was “just like dad”.

How to offend

I slipped on my yukata (a Japanese dressing gown) and slippers and waved goodbye to my wife. I felt like a soldier going to war. I snuck into the onsen and carefully locked the door behind me. The onsen was there in the corner of the room. A great big bath tub full to overflowing with inviting hot water.

First thing; I knew I had to be clean. It is absolute taboo to get into the onsen before having cleaned yourself properly. The onsen is for soaking in, not for cleaning oneself. I disrobed and looked for the shower. I saw it about three feet from the ground with a little pink plastic stool leaning against the wall beneath it. I sat on the stool, and washed.

Next; you mustn’t get soap in the onsen. Despite the importance of getting clean, getting any suds in the onsen is again taboo. I sat on the stool and checked all my most sacred areas. I rinsed. I rinsed again.

After a final rinse I approached the gaping maw of the onsen. Hot waters lapped at its edges like a whale gargling. Tentatively I eased myself into the water. I had even memorised the Japanese for ‘hot’, so I could mutter it to myself as I got in and feel all smug and authentic. In fact it wasn’t that hot, but I didn’t know the Japanese for ‘a bit warmer than tepid’. There were bunches of what looked like leeks floating in the water so I picked one up and hit myself on the back with it a few times.

I slipped down in the water and relaxed. I’d showed ‘em. Any Japanese person would be pretty impressed with me right now. “Wow, that guy really knows his stuff. We might as well award him joint citizenship, or make him head of Nintendo or something.”

The next morning over breakfast I smugly relayed my experience to my brother.

“Why did you hit yourself with the leaves you idiot?” Mouth agape. Eyes bulging.

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