Discovering Nagoya

Nagoya, my point of landing, is Japan's fourth largest city and primarily an industrial one. It is not known as a large drawing point for tourists. The city guide presented to me by the British company rep yesterday even states that this place is a hard sell. Still, it is a good starting point, I feel, thus far being English friendly and not as large as, say, Tokyo. Nagoya's claim to fame is that it is the birthplace of pachinko or Japanese pinball. There are supposed to be many arcades around that house pachinko machines but I have not seen one yet. The city was born out of the importance of the Nagono Plateau as it was an easy access point by both land and water. A castle was constructed by Tokugawa Ieyasu , a great Japanese hero, after he gained ruling battle from his victory in the Battle of Sekigahara. Samurai and village people alike began to take up residence around the castle and Nagoya would eventually become the headquarters of a powerful clan of warriors called the Owari. Nagoya officially became a city in 1878 under the Meiji government and would go on to thrive due to it's active port and industrial exploits. The city was hit heavy by allied bombing in World War II and much of Nagoya was destroyed, toppled into ruins and dust. Reconstruction began after the war and Nagoya extended roadways, rebuilt shrines and developed into the modern city it is today. With a present day population of 2.1 million and a few attractions to seek out, Nagoya is my indirection to Japan. Today I would go out and discover the city. Outside things would be warmer then they were in my training dorm. The Japanese must like to keep themselves fresh.

Things did not look good in the early stages. Though I had a fairly good map in hand, I could not find the subway station that was the station closest to the training apartments. The streets to the station were wide and the Japanese hurriedly rushed towards their business endeavors or usual breakfast spots. I walked by many quaint shops displaying magazines and various snack foods. I was not hungry yet, wanting to save my first Japanese meal to be one on a grander scale, and I walked on. I paused to take a photograph of some bright red Japanese lanterns. These would be my landmarks to find the training apartments. Also, a large cat statue fashioned in the anime style would be hard to miss as I made my way home. The station I was seeking, called Hongo, was clearly marked on my map but I must have passed it five or six times before eventually turning down a side street and, by happenstance, walking into the station.

I looked upon the subway map. Though not as panic inducing as the pile of spaghetti that is the Tokyo map, the Nagoya system still looked pretty intimidating. But I was ambitious and head strong and told myself that if I was set to travel this country, obligated to master the train system to get to my places of employment, I would start by tackling the Nagoya subway system head on. I did not fear, I told myself, the systems six distinct lines, marked by a color-coded system and strangely resembling a satellite dish. Sure, it was far more complex then the only other subway system I had been on, Toronto's, but surly an intelligent young traveler like myself could conquer this great system of lines and circles, tracks and stations. If only I could figure out how to work the ticket machine. Although the guide I had told me in a rather simplistic way how to purchase a subway ticket, the machine text was in Japanese. There was button that provided English instructions but it did little good really only telling me how to put my money in and press a button to get my ticket. I was looking for a spacific ticket, you see, the all day pass. This be the most cost effective measure to get me around Nagoya as I envisioned myself wandering aimless in and out of subway stations on my quest of discovery. Seeing how the all day pass would only cost Y740 and one trip alone would cost Y260, I was saving my yen already. The guide had the kanji text for the all day pass but after repeatedly scanning the machine and it's dozens of buttons I could not find it. When all seemed lost at the outset of my journey, an attractive young Japanese girl passed by, recognized my plight and stopped to give me a hand. She was a stunning creature of great beauty. I tried to recollect the little (skoshi) bit of Japanese I knew but my mouth would not move. Instead I pointed clumsily to the Japanese text and the girl smiled a beaming smile and showed me the button I was seeking. She spoke to me in Japanese but I did not understand her. If only I had skipped to the lesson that told me how to say "Hey, you want to go for breakfast?" I put my money in and out popped my ticket. I remembered the word for thank you, arigato, and she bowed gracefully and hurried off to catch her train. I watched her go realizing that I had just had my first conversation with a Japanese person, a woman no less. I shuck my head and made my way towards the subway wickets thinking a return to my robotic language instructors would be needed quickly if I wanted to be able to even spout of the simplest of dialogue. I would be meeting no raven haired beauties this way. More trouble at the wicket where I couldn't figure out where to put the ticket. I watched the locals trying to get ideas and, at one point, tried to follow one through the opening and closing gates. This was a mistake. The gate instantly slammed towards me, nearly breaking my legs, and a loud tone sounded to indicate I had done something wrong. I walked back and eventually found the small slot, placed the pass in, retrieved it on the other side and I was on my way. Believe it or not, folks, this was the worst of it and the remaining time spent navigating the Nagoya subway system would be spent with relative ease.

My first destination would be Nagoya castle, the one mentioned above and the first point of interest in my Lonely Planet guide. To get there I would have to take the yellow line and transfer onto the purple line. Both of these lines had names, Higashiyama and Meijo respectively, but I remembered them best by their color. The subway maps did have English translations and the digital displays above also flashed English every now and then. Melodic chimes ring out when the train is approaching. They are very musical and are followed by the soothing voice of a Japanese woman informing us of the subway's arrival. On board the subway is where I really felt out of place, a purple fish in a tank of red fish. Some people did stare at me but not as many as I thought might and I did my best not to gaze back and look inconspicuous as I took my seat amongst the business men and women and girls dressed in their pressed outfits and knee-high stockings. The Japanese are very neat and it seemed everybody had just come out of the hair salon or dry cleaners. You could cut paper on the seams of their slacks.





As previously mentioned, Nagoya castle was built by Tokugawa Ieyasu and it stands today, though in reconstructed form with much of the castle having been destroyed in World War II, as the major tourist attraction in the city. The front gate, or Nishinomaru-enokida gate, was rebuilt in 1959 after a fire burned it to the ground in the Second World War. There I paid my Y500 admission and was given an English guide by the front gate attendant. I thanked her and made my way down the dirt path and was met with the stunning view of the majestic castle. Constructed in 1612 (rebuilt in 1945) it is a prime example of Japanese architecture.


Two golden dolphin (kinshachi) statues are placed on roof of the donjon and they glistened in the sun. These, my guide states, are the best known items of Nagoya castle. They are both male and female and weigh over 1, 200 kg with a combined weight in gold nearing 100 kg. They appeared sometime between 1334-1400 in the Muromachi Era and were a symbol of the feudal lord's authority. I spent the better part of an hour wandering around the castle grounds and snapping photos from every angle, particularly enamored by the detail in the Southwest (Hitsuji-saru) and Northwest (Kiyosu) towers. These towers were used primarily as defense of the main dojon as defenders would drop stones from the great heights unto their attackers. There was a garden path to walk down but nothing was in bloom this time of year. The fabled cherry blossoms trees of Japan wore empty branches waiting for the spring.


The birds that were abundant in their numbers were gigantic. The crows here are nearly triple the size of the crows back home and their call is deafening should one rest above you.


There was a room behind the castle that displayed a collection of Japanese dolls. My grandmother would have loved these as she is quite the doll collector.


Deer roamed and grazed in what once was the moat of the castle and school children, all with the same yellow hat and white ribbon on their heads, pointed and hooted trying to get the attention of the deer. Mostly they were ignored. On my way out I found a rock garden with a small hut in the corner. I am unsure what the hut was used for but it this area made for a great playground for the children. As ended my self guided tour of the castle I discovered a statue of a samurai, I believe, rest in a gorgeous silhouette against the sun. His eyes followed me as I walked away into a light snowfall.


Back on the subway, stomach rumbling, I made to trip on the Meijo Lne to Jingu Nisi station where I would disembark and make my way towards a historic Nagoya shrine. But first I had to silence my hunger. It was time for my first Japanese meal. I found a small restaurant overlooking a pond on the shrine grounds. The menu was all in Japanese and my language guide offered little support. Thankfully, there were pictures. Something looked like beef on a bed of rice. I pointed towards that and said "beef". "No," replied the woman behind the counter. She said something in Japanese and I nodded and was shown to my seat. I guess I had ordered. The sun warmed me as it shone through the large windows I sat beside and it simmered off the pond. This was such a wonderful spot for my first meal even if I didn't know exactly what I would be eating. The mystery was not solved even when the waitress brought me my food. I thanked her (arigato) and, looking upon the feast before me, my eyes grew wide, heart speeding up in rapid palpitations. I looked down, ladies and gentleman, upon the fearful sight of chopsticks. There was no fork! My mind instantly wandered to the front pocket of my suitcase where the fork I had brought for such an occasion rested forgotten. Ack! Okay, stay calm. Let's give it a try. The stuff I had thought was beef on the bed of rice was actually fried fish of some sort and was really good. I wish I knew what it was so I could ask for it again. If anybody out there can gauge this by the photograph please let me know. I did surprisingly well with the chopsticks, albeit fumbling, but when one is hungry one finds new abilities. I scooped up my rise and used the sticks as a knife to break down the fish and mix it in. A cup of soup was provided and in Japan you do not use spoons, instead you lift the bowl to your mouth. I washed the meal down with the green tea and water that had been provided and gave the staff a hearty arigato as I left.


You make your way to Asuta-jingu down a path of 1,000 year old cypress trees.



This, one of the most sacred Shinto shrines in Japan, was built in the 3rd century and is home to the Kusunagi Sword, one of the Three Sacred Treasures of the Imperial Family. According to legend, the Kusanagi-no-tsurugi, meaning 'grass-cutting sword', was imparted upon the imperial family by Amaterasu Omikami, a Japanese goddess. The sword is not on display and only select Shinto priests are able to view it but many flock to the Shrine nevertheless to gaze, reflect and pray. At the foot of the shrine devotees would clap their hands twice, keep them held tightly together, and bow down in prayer.


I watched as monks collected donations and raised my camera.

"You know, the better angle is over here," a gentle Japanese voice said from my side, startling me. I turned and met Yoshihita. Wearing a green baseball cap over a thatch of gray hair, this elderly Japanese man smiled revealing several gold teeth. I thanked him and took my photograph. "Judging from you appearance I gather you are a tourist," he said. "Well, not actually. I am here on business, mainly. A teacher but also a traveler. So, I guess you could say I am a little bit of both." He laughed a booming laugh and we were ushered aside by two monks dressed in silken white robes that were escorting a gaggle of businessmen to the foot of the shrine. I asked Yoshihita why so many businessmen where here and he told me that people come to this shrine to ask for continued betterment in their lives. Some may ask for safe travels when they purchase a new car. Some may ask for good grades as they enter university. Businessmen come here and ask for the success in a new venture, believing that the gods look down upon them and grant the wishes of devoted followers of the Shinto religion.

Yoshihita would become my guide asking me if I would mind if he showed me around. I told him it was nice to have somebody who understood some English to explain to me the meaning of the things around me. He blushed somewhat saying his English was not very good, having acquired it over many years working as an engineer traveling the globe. He told me of his time spent in Germany, Switzerland and America as we walked down the path of trees. He was very Yoda like and comparisons to the wise Jedi were instantly drawn but kept to myself. He told me of the differences between the two religions of Japan, Buddhism and Shinto. I gathered from his favoring of the latter that he was a Shintoist. As we came upon a path that forked into two roads he told me of the negative and positive energies felt in the way roads are constructed. A straight road gave way to a positive flow, he said. Yoshihita told me he was a frequent visitor to this shrine and motioned towards a building where he and his wife were married over 30 years ago. He showed me places on the grounds I don't think I would have found without his guidance all the while explaining the significance of the areas in his soft-spoken fashion.


He told me the wooden markers and colorful fabrics found in various areas around the shrine were prayer markers placed there to offer peace and prosperity. He took me to a small well and lamented at how the building of the modern city had stopped the flow of the water.


An area was designated at the shrine to dip these wooden cups on a stick into a pool of water. This was done so you could cleanse your hands and sometimes your mouth before prayer.

Being an engineer he spoke descriptively of the make up of our surroundings, pointing to a wall and comparing its construction to the aircraft that brought me here. "All has design has meaning, deep underneath it is felt," he said and touched the stone. He told of the grass cutting sword, leading me to an area that showed a replication. "Iron is felt in this area, very important to life in Japan in those times. Cut with it. Defend. Iron very important." Near the back of the shrine is a old No theatre stage (indoors) and through the window we watched the final few minutes of a production. It was very graceful and this was just a sampling. I want to see an entire show at one point down the road.


Finally he showed me a red shrine and explained the significance of color and then he offered me a meal. Although I was still quite full from whatever it was I had eaten earlier I felt it would be insulting to turn this wonderful man down.


We sat to a meal of fish noodles. I did not fair well with the chopsticks this time and he went and asked for a fork. The noodles were warm and filling. I thanked the wise old man as we parted ways at the main gate. He wished me a safe journey in Japan, waved and wandered off down the path awash in the light that shot through the cypress. He had a slight limp I hadn't noticed before.

My final destination of the day was a visit to the Nagoya International Center, a sort of hub of information for international travelers. There you can find job postings, listings of accommodations and, what I was looking for, English maps. Finding this place was not easy. It is located in Nagoya station which is a large shopping area. Music shops playing popular Japanese hits, book stores with the De Vinci Code translated and clothing stores, dozens and dozens of clothing stores. English artist CDs here are not cheap. The new Nora Jones album is $35. I walked by a travel shop and one of the brochures was devoted to theme trips centered entirely around Pokemon. I can see Destiny's head exploding with delight. I grabbed a copy and will send it her way when I am a bit more settled. You have to be mindful of your step her as there are so many people rushing off around you, people who know there way. I was crashed into a few times as I stopped to look for directions. I did eventually find the International Center was happy to find an internet caf・inside. I had put my journal entries onto a CD as well as a few photographs, though it was hard trying to use the Japanese keyboard (not to mention all the sites were in Japanese), I managed to upload my posts onto the online journal as I soon will this one. I also was able to send off a few emails to assure that I had landed fine and was making the slow transition to life in Japan. I was thankful for my quick typing skill. As I had only paid Y100A, a 15-minute timer was clocking me down. Because of the keyboard my emails are going to be peppered with symbols and no capitalization but I am sure you folks back home got the idea.

I returned to the training dormitory to find that I was no longer alone. In fact, there were now at least 50 people taking part in some seminar in one of the main rooms. I noticed the British chap inside. Popping some cash into the vending machine I opted against the familiar Pepsi and purchased what I thought would be the Japanese equivalent to 7-up. Wrong-oh! I think it is cold green tea. It doesn't taste very good and I now know one item to avoid. I returned to my frigid room, wrestled with the heater and turned off the light reflecting on my second day.