October 21, 2007

  • Solomon updates are long overdue and forthcoming. Where was I even?

    Oh yes, when last we saw our hero she was waiting to take the plane from Honiara to Gizo. We have left her, regrettably, suspended in the air, the sound of the propellers boring into her brain and the white, black and emerald islands of morova lagoon slipping beneath her before she could even formulate suitable similies for them.

    I'm afraid we must leave her there for the moment. Gizo is so much harder to describe than Honiara. Or rather, things that are more fun, more meaningful, and more natural are harder to describe in the way I have chosen to describe them. That is; chronologically, factually, deliberately. Its an uncomfortable disconnect, and the going is slow.

    Unfortunately, in the month since I have been back I have had more to do than sift through my vacation. Japan is happening, and it is happening all the more vividly now that the end is so clearly in site. This weekend a friend organized a tour of the Tokyo Edo Museum. I think its a worthwhile stop for anyone in Tokyo for any length of time. The place is huge and contains lifesized models of Edo-era Tokyo houses, as well as a half-size model of the Nihonbashi bridge, the stone version of which is quite close to my work.  Among the many detailed dioramas was one of Chuo-dori, a long mainstreet that now runs from Kanda eki to Nihonbashi. I instantly recognized the long avenue and oriented myself. There is a bank here, an indian restaurant there, and, just before the bridge, the house of what appears to be a moderately wealthy merchant, standing right where my office is now.

    Tokyo has a hard time being the historic city it ought to be, having been razed to the ground more than once by fires, earthquakes, and war. But those with a history in the city, "children of Edo", know the places and events where history surfaces, know that Mitsukoshi department store has hundreds of years of history in the exact same place in which it stands now, know which temples and shrines are still performing the same ceremonies and festivals they always have, despite the repeated destruction and reconstruction of the buildings itself. The physical continuity between old Tokyo and new Tokyo has been broken irrevocably; but the dynamics of the city are surprisingly similar. The main roads are still the same; the commerce, pleasure, and political districts are roughly in the same areas. And 6 tatami mats is still considered an acceptable size for an apartment. Yes, wood has turned to stone, carts turned to cars, and more land had to be created to hold all the people and buildings, so the shoreline has actually migrated southeast. But you can still find a family that has been making the same dish for 200 years, if you only know where they are. And, though the sumo wrestlers walk around in gangster jeans instead of robes and short swords, I bet their soft smell of sandalwood and baby powder overpowered the passerby even way back then.