Getting to the Bottom of Panty Thievery

   About ten years ago when a “panty thief” was caught red-panty-handed, the police searched the suspect’s home where they found several thousand pairs of women’s undergarments. The article in the paper included, as they often do, an amusing photo of the panties covering the entire floor of a gymnasium.

   Looking at the photo, I couldn’t help but be puzzled by a number of things. The first question, of course, was: Why? Why in God’s name would a man go to the trouble, the embarrassment even, of stealing women’s panties?

   I often joke that it takes all types—this case will surely add further evidence of that—and any statistician will point to the Gaussian function in mathematics, which describes the normal distribution of a population as bell-shaped with the vast majority falling within a narrow range in the center. When it comes to matters of sex, those who enjoy orthodox heterosexual whoopee make up the greatest portion of that bell, while a very small percentage of the population who get there rocks off through a variety of fetishes would be found on the fringes of the curve. It is not really my place to condemn one man’s fetish over another’s. For one, I don’t think the majority of monogamous, heterosexual vanilla ice cream couples would exist without those on the wild fringes of sexuality also existing. But, panties? It boggles my mind how a man could possibly get excited over a pair of women’s knickers?

   The second question I had was the dubious taste of the panty thief. Looking at the picture of the thousands upon thousands of underwear spread out like a silk ocean on that gymnasium floor, I noticed that quite a few pair were clearly granny pants—big, frumpy unfashionable things. You’d think that a panty thief would be more particular about the knickers he nicked, that he would become a connoisseur of lingerie and would collect only the most titillating undergarments, the bloomers that Japanese schoolgirls wear, for example. But, no, quantity seemed to be winning over quality once again.

   Wanting to get at the “bottom” of this peculiar aspect of Japanese culture, I did some checking and came across an interesting article in Nikkan Sports—I know, I know. It’s always the sport papers—part of which I have summarized below:

    The following was taken from the transcripts of the November 27, 2008 trial of a fifty-one year old man named Hino who was arrested for the crime of theft.

   It’s an odd case in which Hino allegedly used a fishing pole to steal women’s undergarments that were hanging out to dry on balconies. The truck driver was arrested a few months earlier in September when he was seen stealing a pair of women’s panties from the second floor balcony of a home in Toyoshima Ward, Tôkyô. The “victim” who was on the second floor at the time saw a fishing pole rise up from below, snag onto the underwear and remove them from the clothes line. She then saw Hino escape on a bicycle. The woman called the police and Hino was arrested shortly thereafter.

   When the police searched Hino’s home they found five hundred pairs of women’s panties and a fishing pole that could be extended up to three-meter in length and had a hook attached to the end of it for snatching underwear. In a written statement, Hino admitted to having stole underwear since he was eighteen, most of which were taken from laundromats.

   The length of Hino’s career as an underwear thief, the number of panties confiscated, and the method by which they were stolen them all ensured that this case would end up being widely reported in the media. Quite a few people in Japan today will still be familiar with the details.

   Hino was charged on three counts of stealing for three different crimes involving a total of seven panties worth about two thousand yen altogether.

   According to the prosecutor, the defendant had a previous record stretching from 1990 to 2006. Hino confessed that he first noticed he was more interested in what was covering the genitals of women more than their naked bodies when he was seventeen and had sexual relations with his girlfriend. After high school, he found a job and got married, but the marriage ended in divorce in 1997. It was after the divorce that Hino began stealing panties from coin-operated laundromats. He would liberate women’s drawers at a pace of about once a week.

   After Hino married again (to a Filipina), he was inspired one night while watching TV: a comedy program gave him the idea of affixing fishing hooks to the end of a fishing pole with tape. In early 2006, panties were found hidden in the premises of his apartment building. When police investigated, they found the fishing pole and some 281 pairs of panties in his apartment. Another five hundred panties were seized this time.

   During the investigation, the defendant is reported to have said, “When I found the woman’s panties, I couldn’t help myself. I had to take them. I returned to my home, got my fishing rod and went back to her home. I don’t think others will be able to understand, but the moment I catch the panties hanging outside is very exciting for me. Doing it at my own home just doesn’t quite do it for me, I have to have the real thing.”

   (Note: Hino would often do this “panty fishing” in his own home, too.)

   At the time of Hino’s second arrest, his wife and child were living in the Philippines.

   Defense Lawyer: You were living in the Philippines, but because you couldn’t earn much there, you returned to Japan. Is that correct?

   Hino: Yes.

   Lawyer: How much money do you send to your wife?

   Hino: Two hundred thousand yen a month.[1]

   Lawyer: Is your desire to see your wife and child again strong?

   Hino: Yes it is.

   Lawyer: Did you do it (steal panties) to get your mind off of that loneliness?

   Hino: Hmm. It’s all because I didn’t do enough soul-searching.

   It’s not clear whether the defendant had already submitted a written confession or the defense lawyer was merely hoping to avoid asking questions that dealt directly with the crimes involved, but for whatever reason his questioning of the defendant concluded. It was now turn of the prosecution.

   Prosecutor: You went so far as to rig a fishing pole, didn’t you? I understand you had a fixation with panties, but you did this after watching a comedy program?

   Hino: Yes.

   Prosecutor: You weren’t charged, but when you were arrested in 2006 you also used a fishing pole. Did you use the same fishing pole this time?

   Hino: No.

   Prosecutor: Sorry? How many poles do you have?

   Hino: I made two. Only one was seized (in 2006).

   Prosecutor: So, one rod remained. When did you make them?

   Hino: About half a year before I was arrested.

   Prosecutor: The summer of 2005, right? When you were arrested the first time, the police seized 281 pairs of panties. This time five hundred. When you were questioned you said that you started stealing pants in 1997. Are those panties from then?

   Hino: Yes. All of them were taken from laundromats.

   Prosecutor: Why weren’t the five hundred seized when you were arrested before?

   Hino: The ones that were seized at that time were the ones I liked and were in my apartment. I meant to throw the other five hundred away and had put them in garbage bags and left them in the building’s storage room. The other fishing rod was also kept there.

   Prosecutor: You say you meant to throw them away, but when your apartment was searched this time, three garbage bags full of panties were found in your closet. You kept them for more than a year and a half so it doesn’t stand to reason that you were going to throw them out, does it?

   Hino: Um, no . . .

   Prosecutor: At the point where you didn’t admit to the police that you had more panties hidden suggests that you intended to go on stealing them, doesn’t it? You aren’t hiding something else, are you?

   Hino: I brought the panties and hanger from my home and (after hanging them on the balcony myself) I then caught them with the fishing rod.

   Prosecutor: Excuse me? Why would you do such a thing?

   Note: putting aside the fact that the defendant had just incriminated himself with the crime of illegally entering a person’s home, he admitted to preparing a pair of women’s panties and a hanger and then went to a stranger’s balcony to try and snatch them with the fishing rod.

   Prosecutor: You’re interested in panties, right? But, while it may be the easiest way to steal them, what you’re saying is that you’ve got to do it with a fishing pole?

   Hino: It’s a different kind of pleasure . . .

   The prosecutor’s questions ended there. Next it was the judge’s turn to question the defendant.

   Judge: When you arrested before, why wasn’t the fishing pole seized?

   Hino: It was outside at the time.

   Judge: And why didn’t you throw it away?

   Hino: It’s not that I intended to use it again. I just left it there.

   Judge: It doesn’t look as if you had made up your mind to quit.

   Hino: I don’t think there’s anything I can do about changing the way people think about me.

   Judge: Even when you were arrested in 2006 it was no use, so I don’t think you’ll stop doing it from now on, either.

   Hino: I underestimated everything and betrayed a lot of people, and beg the victims for their forgiveness. I would like them to believe that I have turned over a new leaf and won’t commit another crime. I’ve even lost my job (because of this) . . .

   Judge: You knew that if you couldn’t send money back to your family in the Philippines, they would suffer.

   Hino: Yes. (And then the defendant broke down and cried.)

   The prosecutor demanded the judge to sentence the defendant to two and a half years imprisonment, and, with that, the trial came to an end.

   Even with panty thieves, there are all kinds of modus operandi.

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[1] At today’s rate of about 80 yen to the dollar that comes to $2,500 a month. In 2008, it was more like $1,800 a month. In 2008, the per capita GDP of the Philippines was $3,300. The man was a chump to be sending back so much money. He couldn’t have been earning a whole lot as a truck driver.

Walkabout - Tôkyô

Can't get no

   I often carry out impromtu surveys in my university classes to get a quick feel on what the students are thinking. Some of these surveys are admittedly silly, but some of them can be eye-opening. 

   In the final class of the semester at Seinan, I asked my second year students how satisfied they were with the semester that was about to come to an end. On a scale of ‎1 to 10, six of the students told me they had a satisfaction level of "7", ten had a satisfaction level of only "5".

   Although I considered the students' level of satisfaction to be low at first, my friend Adi, a student of engineering at the Kyûshû Institute of Technology (KIT) wrote, "Satisfaction of 7. . . Classes must be fun there . . . Surveys here in Iizuka for technical subjects range in 0.5-1.5 out of 5."

   When I asked the kids why they weren't satisfied, many replied that they hadn't studied or had skipped too many classes.

   That got me to thinking about tuition, which is about ¥800,000 a year. Not expensive by American schools, but not cheap. The average student has 480 classes a year (13 subjects x 15 weeks x 2 semesters). The average cost of one class comes to ¥1,667. I told the students that if they were to skip one day, say 3 classes, then it was the equivalent of taking a five-thousand yen note, wiping it on their arse, and flushing it down the toilet. I think it was the first time they ever thought about it in those terms and I could read it in their faces.

   I then asked them how many of their classes they considered worthwhile. The typical answer was 3 or 4, with the remaining 8 to 10 classes being a waste of time. Why? Invariably, the blame fell on the teacher.

La Palette

   If you walk around the wharf at Nagahama (Fukuoka City, Chûô-ku), you'll find pallets and boxes stacked up two, three meters high at the edge of the quay. The wooden boxes are filled with ice and freshly caught fish and then taken to the fish market early in the morning where they are auctioned off. In this age when virtually everything is disposable, it's nice to find things like these simple wooden boxes that are used over and over again.

   Two weeks ago when I was in Tôkyô's Yuraku-chô neighborhood looking for a Turkish restaurant (which ended up being closed) I came across a seafood restaurant under the tracks of the Yamanote Line called, I believe, Uomaru (魚河岸 魚◯本店). The tables and chairs of the restaurant were all made from these wooden boxes. (Should have taken a picture.)

Numero Uno

   Looking at the Washington Post's coverage of the Olympics I was surprised to find Japan in third place in the medal count.

   "Way to go, Japan," I thought until, taking a closer look, I realized that only two of Japan's 19 medals are gold. The vast majority, 11, are bronze, a color Japanese athletes like so well that politicians here are considering changing the red circle in the hi-no-maru national flag to bronze in honor of their "achievements". Arch rivall, Korea, it should be noted, has won seven golds, out of forteen medals total. (Way to go, Korea!)

   So, why is Japan listed third?

   Because in the Washington Post and other American papers countries are currently listed by total medals won: US, 37; China, 34; Japan, 19; Germany, 17; Russia, 17; and so on. Countries are arranged in that fashion, rather than by the relative value of the medals won, in order to make the U.S. come out on top, instead of in second place as most international media outlets and indeed the London Olympics, as well, have them. I suspect that in the event that China garners more medals while the U.S. wins more gold, the medal count will be adjusted to keep America in the number one position.

   This is exactly the kind of pettiness I'd expect from North Korea. C'mon, Amerikay, you're better than that! You're Numero Uno, after all.

Second Amendment Lite

   On December 15, 1791, the Second Amendment to the United States Constitution was adopted, along with the other nine amendments that constitute the Bill of Rights. It stated, “A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed”.

   Considering that James Holmes, who shot fifty-two people at a movie theater on Saturday night, 12 of whom died, reportedly bought all four[1] of his weapons, ammunition and ballistic gear legally[2], it seems to me that now is as good a time as ever to remind Americans what the Founding Fathers had in mind when it came to arms and a well-regulated militia.

   At the time the constitution was written, the most common rifle was the flintlock musket, a muzzle-loaded five-foot long rifle. The gun fired a single lead ball about 3/4 of an inch in diameter. Between each shot, gunpowder and lead had to be dropped down the barrel. A flint struck the part called the frizzen, which caused the gunpowder in the barrel to ignite, propelling the lead ball. Muskets had an effective range of about 100 yards, but because it took so long to reload, many soldiers would have to rely on the bayonet once the enemy got too close.

   Another fairly common weapon at the time was the flintlock pistol. A good soldier could only get off two or three rounds a minute. These pistols, which were used primarily by officers, had a reliable accuracy of only about fifteen feet. According to the Revolutionary War Antiques website, “Pistols were also used as a dueling weapon during early American History. Duels relied on the inaccuracy of these flintlock pistols for survival.”

   As for the “well-regulated militia”, the Economist magazine published an entertaining and enlightening article on July 1^st, 1999, featuring the findings of Michael Bellesiles, a professor at Emory University.   

   According to the article, “Most militias were a joke. Describing a shooting competition at a militia muster in Pennsylvania, one newspaper wrote cruelly: ‘The size of the target is known accurately, having been carefully measured. It was precisely the size and shape of a barn door.’ The soldiery could not hit even this; the winner was the one who missed by the smallest margin. No wonder the militias of Oxford, Massachusetts, voted in 1823 to stop their annual target practice to avoid public humiliation . . .

A well-tailored militia    "Militias, it seems, were neither adept nor well-armed. In 1775 Captain Charles Johnson told the New Hampshire Provincial Congress that his company had ‘perhaps one pound of powder to 20 men and not one-half of our men have arms.’ The adjutant general of Massachusetts complained in 1834 that only ‘town paupers, idlers, vagrants, foreigners, itinerants, drunkards and the outcasts of society’ manned his militias . . . In the 1830s, General Winfield Scott discovered the Florida militia to be essentially unarmed—and this was during a war against the Seminole Indians.”

   The article is worth reading in its entirety.

   By the way, 55,846 people have been shot so far this year in the United States, 226 people have been shot today.[3]

   The NRA will argue, of course, that the solution to gun violence is to have more law-abiding citizens packing heat. As crazy as that sounds, the argument was convincing enough to the many Colorado residents who flocked to their local gun shop to purchase firearms.

   According to the Denver Post, “Background checks for people wanting to buy guns in Colorado jumped more than 41 percent after Friday morning’s shooting at an Aurora movie theater, and firearms instructors say they’re also seeing increased interest in the training required for a concealed-carry permit. ‘It’s been insane,’ Jake Meyers, an employee at Rocky Mountain guns and Ammo in Parker, said Monday.”

   It is insane.

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[1] “[Holmes] chose the [Remington 870] shotgun, which you know the expression the ‘shotgun effect’—it’s blasting out. That is one weapon, but he transitioned neatly from that to the AR-15 [semi-automatic assault rifle], which had that drum magazine of 100, which we believed jammed. And then he transitioned from that to the [two Glock] pistol[s] until he was out of that ammunition,” reported CBS News senior correspondent John Miller.

[2] There is currently no system in the U.S. tracking whether an individual is stockpiling weapons and ammunition. The only restriction in the U.S. is on the sale of armor-piercing bullets.

[3] For more gun facts visit the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence.

Mike Brodsky

    Two weeks ago I wrote about the husband of one of my nieces having been shot in Afghanistan. Michael Brodsky (MA2) had in fact been critically wounded by an IED blast:

   "Late Saturday night (7 July 2012) in an undisclosed area of Afgahnistan Mike was on patrol. His unit started taking fire. He took his dog Jackson and put him back in the truck as he was trained to do, and then returned to the fight. It was then that he stepped on a pressure plate."

   In critical condition and unresponsive--Mike had lost both legs--he was flown to Germany where doctors tried to save him. On the morning of July seventeenth, he was awarded the Purple Heart.

   The following is from Chuck, who kept information flowing through Facebook while Mike was being treated in Germany:

   "Spoke with Papa Brodsky (Mike's father) about an 1 1/2 hours ago (July 18) and here is the latest: progress not a lot but there is progress. The doctors are attempting to transfer Mike to Landsthul, Germany. Hopefully Mike will be ready to be transferred to a hospital in Landsthul by the weekend. There Mike will undergo multiple surgeries. He is still absolutely in very critical condition. There are several injuries so we will avoid any specifics or speculations. He will Remain in ICU. This hospital will be able to tell when Mike is ready to travel to Bethesda. There is absolutely no time table for that upon arrival and sometime following Mike will be observed and evaluated on his condition. Papa Brodsky wants to ensure that you all know he is thankful to you. Please continue the support, prayers that you all have provided."

   On the 19th, Chuck made the following post: "Received a call from Papa Brodsky about an hour or so ago. Mike has been transported and arrived in Landsthul, Germany. He is still in very critical condition. Upon arrival went in for wound cleaning which is considered surgery. Mike is in the ICU. He will be followed up with observations and continue further examination and continue treatment for many injuries. Mom, Dad, and Cory are there with him and will be residing at the Fischer House near the hospital. Again thank you all for the continued support best wishes and prayers."

   Saturday, July 21st, two weeks after Mike was injured, the saddest of news came: "This is without the hardest post to make right now: To all: Just spoke to Papa Brodsky and Phil Hertz there is no easy way to say this we have lost MA2 Mike Brodsky. He was in incredibly bad condition the Doctors, Corpsmen, friends and family did everything possible. Mikey had a living will which clearly stated he did not want to be assisted to continue in the condition he was currently in and the condition that awaited him in the future. Please thank you all for the PRAYERS , Kind Words and ever appreciated support. As a request from the family no calls for at least a week while they get back to the greatest country in the world US Soil and are able to regain their bearings along with dealing with this tremendous loss. I know there will be an incredible amount of hurt after Phil and I hit the send button. We must stay together and continue to support for one another. To all thank for all the support that has been given and continued support will be valued and appreciated."

   Mike, you are missed by more people than you might have ever imagined. Tears have been shed on three continents on your behalf. Your smile still shines, your warmth still lingers in our hearts. Rest in peace.

   Micheal J. Brodsky was thirty-three years old.

Irreconcilable Differences

Revenge of Baikin Man

Stupid Wars

   I just got word from my mother that the ex-husband of one of my many nieces was shot by enemy fire in Afghanistan†. His leg had to be amputated, making him one of about two hundred soldiers who will sacrifice a limb this year to Operation Enduring Freedom. (In 2011, 240 deployed troops had to have at least an arm or a leg amputated, compared with 205 in 2007, the height of the surge in Iraq, according to data published by the Armed Forces Health Surveillance Center. For more, go here)

   Even though their marriage ended in divorce four years later, I still liked "Mikey".

   A good-natured Jewish boy from a working class background who had joined the Navy after high school, Mikey was stationed at the base in Sasebo when my niece met him. (She had been living with me here in Fukuoka.) Barely half a year later the two of them were married and living together in Washington D.C. A year and a half later in the summer of 2007, their wedding, a sumptuous affair unlike anything I had ever experienced, was held in Beirut.

   As I was the only one on our side of the family who knew Mikey, and more importantly because no one on his side was willing to risk traveling to Lebanon at a time when car-bombings and assassinations were once again commonplace in the country, the duty of being best man fell on me. I was more than happy to fill in.

Better times: me (far left) and Mikey (middle) with a relative and the priest before the wedding   Although Mikey was in the Navy, ostensibly training police dogs, he was sent to Bahrain a few years ago. And that was the last I heard from him.†† I didn't know he was serving in Afghanistan, let alone in a combat situation. But then, what can we say we really know about what is going on in that god-forsaken country? It has become another stupid war, not worth fighting anymore. And who pays the price? Not the fucking politicians who got us into it, nor the companies that reaped fabulous profits from the invasion. No, the ones who are paying for the folly of Bush and his Neocoms are the soldiers who shouldn't have been sent there in the first place. 

    Good luck to you, Mikey. You're still family to me.

 

    For more on casualty figures for Afghanistan, go here.

    † My latest post, Mike Brodsky, updates and corrects this information. 

    †† By then my neice and he had divorced. The last time I saw either of them was in Oregon in the summer of 2008.

Debt and Taxes 2

   Despite the rebellion of 57 members of his Democratic Party of Japan, Prime Minister Yoshihiko Noda was able to pass a key bill (363-96) paving the way for the consumption tax double by 2015. The bill is likely to be passed by the upper house later this summer.

   While the daily shenanigans occurring in the Shûgiin, Japan’s House of Representatives, are often in the news, little is reported of what happens in the Sangiin,[1] the upper house of the Diet of Japan.

   I have written before that with the lower house possessing virtually all the power in Japan—decisions by the upper house can be overridden by a two-thirds majority vote in the House of Representatives—it would not hurt democracy in this country were the House of Councillors abolished, or, at a minimum, had its membership reduced from its present 242 to, say, 94 (one for each of Japan’s 47 prefectural districts and additional 47 that are allotted proportionally). The 480 members in the House of Representatives could also stand being reduced by a quarter to a half.

   You’d be surprised how much a person can earn for doing very little work. The average annual salary of a member of the Diet is about ¥28,959,000[2] ($361,988[3]). That figure includes an estimated monthly salary of ¥1,887,000 ($23,588) plus an average “bonus” of ¥6,320,000 ($79,000) per year. Bonuses in Japan are typically paid in June and December. The annual salary of an American senator as of 2009 was $174,000, or less than half what a Japanese Diet member earns.

   Unlike the lower house, Shûgiin, the upper house, Sangiin, cannot be dissolved by the Prime Minister. Members of the upper house, then can expect to serve the full six years, earning about ¥173,754,000 ($2,171,925) over the course of their term in office.

   Members of the Diet also have some unique rights.

   They cannot be arrested when parliament is in session. (How convenient is that!) They have the privilege of being exempt from responsibility for things done or said in the Diet. They can travel by “Green Car”[4] on JR, the Shinkansen, and express trains for free. They may take four round trip flights for free each month. They are also able to rent apartments at considerably lower than market price. For example, they can rent what the Japanese call a 3LDK apartment in Shin Akasaka for ¥92,000 ($1,150) per month when the market price for such an apartment can be as high as ¥500,000 ($6,250) per month.

   Now, imagine the savings if you were to get rid of 148 of these upper house members. You’d reduce the cost of running the House of Councillors by at least ¥4,285,932,000 ($53,574,150) per year. Add the savings found in no longer having to maintain an office, staff, security, and so on for these sacked Diet members and that four trillion yen reduction will become even larger.

   And if we bring the ax down on membership in the lower house as well, the total savings found in no longer paying the salaries for these 372 bums[5] could be over 10 trillion yen, or $130 million per year.

   So, Mr. Noda, if you are truly interested in getting the nation’s finances back in order, please reduce the waste and redundancy in the government before letting the consumption tax double. I’ve already shown you where you can save ten trillion yen every year and I’m just a stupid gaijin. Surely, you can do better. After all, that’s what they pay you the big bucks for, right?

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[1] Sangiin (参議院), the upper house of the Japanese Diet is also known as the House of Councillors.

[2] Data is from the Nenshû Labo (Salary Lab). Figures are for the year Heisei 19, or 2007.

[3] Dollar figures are calculated at a rate of 80 yen to one U.S. dollar.

[4] First class.

[5] There are currently 722 Diet members in Japan—480 in the House of Representatives and 242 in the House of Councillors. I propose cutting the numbers to 250 in the lower house and 100 in the upper house.

Rain, Rain . . .

The Month of No Water

   Tsuyu (梅雨), or the rainy season, began (or should I say the start of tsuyu was officially announced) in the northern half of Kyūshū on the 2nd of June, three days later than usual and fifteen days later than in 2011 when it began on the unseasonably early date of May 21st.

   I’ve long wondered how the start of the rainy season was determined, for no sooner is the season announced than we experience a week of beautiful, sunny weather. It is as if Mother Nature is snubbing her nose at the meteorologists and saying, “Think ye can’t pin me down, d’ye? Well, take that!”

   The answer to this question lies in first understanding why it rains. (To my surprise, it has nothing to do with angels crying.)

   From about May to July there is a stationary front over Japan known as the baiu zensen (梅雨前線, the seasonal rain front). Check a weather map of Japan at this time of year and you’ll find a horizontal front with semi-circles on the northern side and triangles on the southern side. According to wikiHow, this indicates a stationary front, or a non-moving boundary between two differing air masses. Because of this front, long continuous rainy periods can be expected to linger in the area affected.

   In East Asia, air masses of differing temperatures and humidity from areas of high atmospheric pressure over the Sea of Okhotsk and the Pacific Ocean meet along the baiu zensen front, creating clouds and rain. The strength of these two regions bumping up against each other prevents the front from dissipating.

   When there has been a number of days of unsettled weather and it looks likely to continue to be rainy or cloudy for the next several days, the Japanese Meteorological Agency will announce that a particular region of Japan has entered the rainy season (梅雨入り, tsuyu iri). Similarly, the end of the rainy season (梅雨明け, tsuyu ake) is announced when the rains have stopped and there has been a period of sunny days. If the past is anything to go by, the rainy season will end in the northern part of Kyūshū around the 15^th of July, or just in time for the Hakata Gion Yamakasa festival.

    While the mechanics of the tsuyu are fairly straight-forward, there are a number of aspects about the season which can be somewhat confusing to foreigners. (They were at least to me.)

   The first question many people have concerns the name of the season: tsuyu (梅雨)—literally, “plum rain”. Why, do you ask, is the season called “plum rain” when Japan’s beloved plum blossoms (梅の花, ume no hana) bloom in late winter (typically February where I live)? Because, holds one theory, the rainy season coincides with the picking of plums for making plum liquor (梅酒, umeshu) and pickling (梅干し, umeboshi).

   Another theory maintains that the original name for the season was baiu (黴雨, literally "mold rain") what with the high humidity level and heat creating the perfect condition for mold to grow. The “moldy” half of the name, 黴 (bai), was replaced with the Chinese character for plum, 梅 (bai, ume), which could also be read the same way. Lending some credence to this theory is that fact that in China the rainy season is also written 梅雨 (though pronounced “méiyǔ”) and is called by some people 霉雨, where 霉 can also means “mold”.

   Interestingly, the kanji for plum, 梅, contains the “radical” 毎 in it which means “every” as in “every day”, giving the word 梅雨 (baiu) the sense of it raining every day. In Korea the name for the season is jangma (장마, literally “long rain”).

   The second question people have regarding tsuyu is the traditional name of the month in which the rainy season falls: Minazuki (水無月)—literally, “no water month”. Why on earth would a month be called that when it rains all the time?

   A look at the Western calendar is instructive. While September is now the ninth month of the year, the name actually means “seventh month”. In ancient calendars (prior to 1752) September was considered the seventh month, October the eighth month, November the ninth, and so on. The summer months of July (Julius Caesar) and August (Augustus Caesar) today were formerly known as Quintilis and Sextilis (the fifth and sixth months of Romulus, respectively) in the 10-month calendar of ancient Rome in which the year started in March.[1] (Winter, interestingly, was considered a monthless period. Sometimes it feels that way to me, too.)

   The Japanese calendar experienced a similar change in the latter half of the nineteenth century when Tenpōreki, a lunisolar system used for just under thirty years from 1842 to 1872, was abandoned in favor of the Gregorian calendar. In two days, Japan went from being the second day of the twelfth month of the fifth year of Meiji (明治５年12月2日) to being first day of the first month of the sixth year of Meiji (明治6年1月1日).[2] The old calendar, called kyūreki (旧暦), is still used for traditional events, the marine products industry, and fortune-telling. Some calendars today show both dates.

   Because of the shift from a lunisolar calendar to a sun-based one, the former names of the months are sometimes off by several weeks. Today, the 25^th of June, for example, is only May 6^th according to kyūreki. May (五月, Gogatsu) is also known by its former names Satsuki (五月 or 皐月, “five month”) and Samidare (五月雨, also read satsuki ame) which means “May rain”. It is synonymous to the rainy season. The old name for June, Minazuki (again, the month of no water), is aligned more closely to the drier month of July in the former calendar. Some believe the name may also derive from the great need for water for rice planting which occurs during this time of the year.[3]

   One final note about the rainy season. If you look at June 11th on a traditional Japanese calendar, which gives both modern and kyūreki dates, you may see the word 入梅 (nyūbai, lit. "enter + plum"). During the Edo Period, the rainy season was believed to begin on or around June 11th.  My wife's maternal grandmother, incidentally, was born on nyūbai and given the name Tsuyu by her parents. The poor girl.

   She has since passed, but is still remembered today as Tsuyu Bāchan (Grandma Rainy Season).

   Oh, yes, almost forgot: the eleventh of June is also known as Kasa no Hi (傘の日, "Umbrella Day").

This post was revised on 2 June 2014.

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[1] In 1752, at the same time that England adopted the Gregorian calendar, New Year’s Day was changed from March 25^th to January 1^st, messing up the meaning of the names of our months forever.

[2] England, which did not adopt the reformed Gregorian calendar until 1752 (170 years late), had to suppress eleven days in order to align its calendar with the Gregorian.

[3] Taue (田植え), or the planting of rice, usually takes place in early June in northern Kyûshû with the harvest following in October. In Okinawa, it can happen as early as April. Some places in southern Kyûshû are able to get two rice plantings in a single year. 

Call the cops!

   It never ceases to amaze me how peaceable the Japanese are.[1] Although I have been living in heart of Fukuoka’s second biggest entertainment district after Nakasu for almost fifteen years I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen drunks fighting in the streets.[2] Last night was one of those rare times when heated words fueled by alcohol ignited into fisticuffs, bringing the truculent tally to five, or an average of one brawl every three years.

   Before my building was remodeled and an anti-pigeon net strung up outside the balcony, I would lob the occasional egg at the drunks if they ever got too rowdy. Seriously. Nothing quite takes the fun out of a party like an egg suddenly falling from heaven and landing near your feet.

   The first time I did it, I expected an angry reaction, retaliatory vandalism, but, no, the mob just quietly moved on. The second time, same thing: gasps of surprise, followed by silence.

   One afternoon while I was trying to get some work done at home, someone outside started yelling angrily. When I went to my balcony to have a look, I found a man, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk and roaring into his cellphone. From the way he looked and sounded, I gathered he was a yakuza trying to squeeze a deadbeat for money.

   Normally, I wouldn’t get involved—I treasure my kneecaps—but this thug went on and on and on, yelling into his cellphone. After about ten minutes I had enough. I opened the fridge and, not finding any eggs, took a full carton of milk and returned to the balcony where I poured the contents down four floors and right onto the goon’s head. Silence. Peace.

   The anti-pigeon outside my balcony net has put an end to all of that fun. As a result, all I can do is grin and bear it whenever the drunks wake me up in the middle of the night. Like this morning, for instance.

   At a little after four in the morning, someone yelled at the top of his lungs, “Dô-iu imi?”[3]

   There was the sound of a scuffle, more bad-tempered shouting, and then thankfully the voices grew distant.

   I tried to go back to sleep, but the sky was already growing light. (Incidentally, an article I wrote on this will appear in the Last Word page of this month’s Metropolis.) I pushed myself out of bed, made myself a cup of coffee, and started cleaning the house.

   When I went to water the plants on the balcony I noticed there was a patrol car, lights flashing, half a block a way and eight police talking to two men. One of the men was on the sitting on the ground, back against the shuttered front of a restaurant. The other man was milling about on his cellphone with six of the cops following him around.

   Curious to see how this would play out, I put my watering can down and watched.

   About thirty minutes later, a small car pulled up and a man in his early thirties got out. He spoke with the police a moment, then went over to the man who was still sitting on the ground, and started to chew him out. The man on the ground bowed again and again and shouted what sounded like, “Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai!” (I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!)

   Several years ago, I saw a similar situation take place at a chain restaurant. The cops were called when a customer, a man in his fifties, got drunk and disorderly. After several minutes, a woman who I’m guessing was the man’s wife arrived, apologized to the police and then gave her husband an earful.

   After another twenty minutes or so, papers were signed, and the drunk was pulled to his feet and shoved into the car, taken home by his friends or co-workers (I’m not sure which).

   I’m not the biggest fan of Japanese police, but I couldn’t help but marvel at how different it is in the United States where cops often unload a full clip of bullets first and ask questions later, or dump you in a drunk tank for talking back.

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[1] The Koreans and Chinese, I am certain, would vehemently disagree.

[2] I haven’t come across many belligerent drunks in Japan, something that is refreshingly different than America, where alcohol and fisticuffs often go hand in hand.

[3] Literally, “What does that mean?” but can carry the nuance of “What the fuck you saying to me?” if shouted angrily.

Miyajidake Shrine

   One of my favorite places in Fukuoka is Miyajidaké Shrine. In early June the shrine holds its annual iris (shôbu) festival. These photos were taken when I visited this time last year.

   Miyaji Daké (Peak). The entire mountain is contained within the shrine's vast borders.

   The shrine claims to have Japan's largest shimenawa, the straw rope hanging above the entrance to the shrine's main building. The same claim is made by Izumo Taisha in Shimane prefecture.

   Purportedly, the biggest dingdong in Japan.

   Japan's largest drum, according to the shrine. Surely there are others that are larger.

   Behind the main shrine are paths that meander up to the top of Miyaji Daké. Along the way, you'll find several shrines as well as the occasional temple.