Basic Black

Meri Kurisumasu in black

Today, Christmas Day, I'm doing what everybody in the neighbourhood is doing - 大掃除 - osoji, the big year-end cleaning effort which originally was a purification rite in preparation for New Year festivities, the most important of the year. This morning, my neighbours were vacuuming loudly below me, and I got into the spirit of the day by laundering everything and scrubbing windows, floors, bath and kitchen.

While I'm working, I'm listening to CBC Radio over the 'Net to remember the day as celebrated on the other side of the ocean.

And I'm thinking about this year's events, lows and highs, mostly highs. This year, I'm grateful for friends from here and abroad, for their good wishes, encouragement, insight and enthusiasm. In the summer, The Phoenix and I visited Osaka to see Maren, then Kyoto, Himeiji, Hiroshima and Matsuyama to see what the rest (real) Japan looks and feels like. This autumn, the Bujinkan presented at the Togakushi festival, and amazing experience. Later, Shiraishi Dojo reprised the performance at the Gyoda City festival. Last Saturday was Shiraishi Dojo Bonenkai, a year-end party to say thank you to sensei and our members, and honour the two new wonderful students.

I'm happy to put 2007 behind me. A friend and inspiration to Vancouver's artists left us this year. On this side, The Phoenix, though a bright light in my world, flew home for what I thought was only a few months, but later thought better of returning to me and Japan. Curiously, despite that spargoing out, he left a little glow - a Japan-resident friend of his brings a lot of happiness into my life.

Next year holds a lot of promise - my new work, which will start in April, promises to change my whole scope of teaching and learning. In May, I hope to be well into my academic studies in the evenings, too.

And Soke's taking us on another trip into darkness, black on black, with the next training theme. Sometimes, yes, I lose heart in my training. What the hell am I doing here, in Japan, doing this? I know so little. Am I getting any better at this stuff? And then I think, 我慢, gaman meaning endurance, and　忍, nin meaning patience and concealment, are my helpers in this endeavour. I will never be the world's most amazing martial artist. But I might, with perseverance and patience, figure out what budo is and why I want to do it with body, mind and spirit. Most of all, spirit.

Tokyo Scavenger Hunt

The Tokyo Scavenger Hunt ranging all over Tokyo and ending with a dinner and awards event is coming up June **correction 16th**. The charity money goes to Pepy Rides, which supports development of education programs in Cambodia, and gets kids on bicycles so they can attend school. Now Kutaki no Mura is offering to contribute charity funds to Pepy and the Scavenger Hunt. How cool is that? Talk about coming together.

Tim says they've extended the application period for the Hunt. I gotta get my bum in gear.

Japanese Bicycle Civilization

I'm getting out on the mamachari daily.

Today's bicycle civilization marvel was the bike parking lot in Kashiwa City. Such a simple idea, much like Japanese car parks. At the car parks, you get an hour or two free, and after that time, a block pops out of the pavement, trapping your car until you pay.

O n the bike lot,  you put your bike on the rack, a little hook grabs the front wheel, and you get two hours free parking. The little light on the meter goes after two hours so you know you have to pay.

When you leave, you input your number into the ticket vending machine, it tells you what you owe, you pay, and it releases your bike.

So, what's in it for the commuter? The lot, which is the closest to the train station, is guarded by two feisty grandpas. And two hours of free parking on a surface lot near a supermarket is a good deal. The lot is 24 hours, and I found out they train a camera on the lot when the grandpas retire for the night. Nobody could swipe your bike with the Supergrandpas watching. One of them speaks English, too.

Skycycle!

Two  weeks ago, D, K and some Norwegian friends went on the Dolphin and Geopanic coasters at Korakuen, and I was grinning ear to ear, K's voice was raspy from screaming, and D and our guest wanted to go again! Being on the coaster made me think of the freedom and exhilaration of being on my mountain bike on a mountainside, only faster and with no pedaling. Wee!

Our cyclewizard in Vancouver sent me a link describing the Skycycle at Washuzan Highland, an amusement park in Okayama. They have this mountainside roller coaster that has scary turns, climbs, twists and fast downhills. And get this - it's people-powered. The ride cars are side-by-side tandem bicycle seats. What a ride! You can see photos on Treehugger.

Bike to Akebono Park

Lately Phoenix and I have been suffering from a lack of exercise. You might wonder why, considering we're in the dojo a few times a week. But training isn't aerobic. When you think about it, Sensei hardly ever breaks a sweat, and he tells us again and again to use no power. The only time in the dojo that I feel my heartrate is up is when I'm doing ukemi, either in drills or when receiving technique, or when I've been up and down, sitting on the mat and getting up a lot.

So, we're trying to get more exercise. I've got two mamacharis, the ubiquitous single speed shopping bikes of Japan, and we're getting out on weekends for rides. This Sunday, after cleaning the house and other chores, we headed for Akebono Park, just a few kilometers from the Tone River. We biked through antique neighbourhoods, past bamboo groves and cedar forests. IT was really refreshing to see after too much Tokyo.

  Sunday weather was perfect, and there was a lineup of cars where the roads were narrow. We managed to squeeze through the traffic to the park, and were stunned to see the vast acres of tulips and grape seed flower beds in front of the windmill. What country are we in, again?

Phoenix says the grape seed blooms at midsummer in Sweden, around his birthday. Here he is, fast forward.

There was a good breeze blowing off the river, and it was pleasant enough to wear a tshirt.

Later, we visited Benzaiten at the Fuse Benzaiten, and headed home on the fast route around Teganuma Marsh.

Cycling Tokyo to Vancouver

Momentum Magazine's February/March issue is now online. Our editrix in Vancouver Amy asked we Tokyo residents to write about bicycle life in the Big Mikan, Tokyo. Mark George investigated Messenger Racing Tokyo Style, where to find cheap bikes and about trackside betting, and I tell stories of Mamachari and Parking Problems - Tokyo Transport Tales. Yes, bicycle parking in Tokyo is tough to find, and worse, it's tough to come back to where you left it to find it not found, but gone.

自転車 Cycling Tokyo

Yesterday we had unseasonably warm weather after a particularly violent electrical storm. On Wednesday, the temperature was up around 20 degrees celcius. Wow, what a holiday season we're having!

My errand of the day was to go to 自転車文化センターBicycle Culture Centre at the National Science Museum near Kudanshita Station. On the way, I noticed the well-marked bicycle lane indicated in the intersection. The Bicycle Culture Centre includes some dynamic, hands-on exhibits for kids, a museum detailing the early history of bicycles in Europe and Japan, and lots of information about bicycle federations, manufacuturers and events around Japan. Lots to see! And they have a library with periodicals in many languages, manuals to help you maintain your ride, and resources to get you started riding in Tokyo.

And you think, the city has 12 million people plus all those commuters coming in from outlying areas. That's a hella lot of bikes.

There is community here, too. Cycle Tokyo! has advice and organizes rides. They're bilingual, too.

About my own bike woes...The mamachari (what Japanese call a fixed gear shopping bike) disappeared from Kashiwa Station where I parked it for an evening. Yes, I parked illegally. My bad. I'm not sure if it was impounded or stolen. I'll check it out when city hall is open in the new year. Meanwhile, the Giant mountain bike, my main ride, is parked under Obie Shawn's balcony in Abiko. It's not that far...Okay, I'll go get it.

Chain Grease as Conversation Piece

The ride this afternoon was not the best time on the road. Cahuenga Boulevard is a dusty, noisy pass, all a slow uphill. When I made it into Hollywood, nerves rattled by merging traffic at highway speed in the pass, I stopped at the closest familiar source of caffeine, Starbucks, parked in an easy chair and took a breather.

The man next to me very courteously told me that I had a big black mark on my leg, and I told him the speed bike that marked me was leaning against the railing.  We ended up talking about the book in his hand, a discussion of the lotus sutra, and he told me that he was waiting on an appointment that was overdue by an hour. He opened up to me about his service in Viet Nam, how he had carried a lot of anger with him, and had decided to take time to recuperate after his service in Japan. He later turned to Nichiren-shu, and found that his life had meaning. Now, he writes poetry and stage plays, and finds a lot of joy spending time in morning meditative walks in the Hollywood hills. The hollowness of his cheeks betrayed his age, despite the lack of lines in his deep chocolate face, and he had a distinct southern accent and that certain way of wearing his fedora way back on his head. This man had been through all the darkness of segregation and Viet Nam, too, as a teenager. And yet his penetrating gaze and warm way of talking showed him to be a very content and compassionate person. A man with a deep source of hope.

I think my mood has been affected by the grimness, poverty, neglect, waste and bigotry in this city. You see the empty faces of gang members, old people pushing carts filled with their belongings and pets, rundown neighbourhoods, the easy way people dispose of things they don't want. So this is America. But as we talked, I could hear in the calm measured voice of this gentleman a deep peal of hope. When we had to go, I stood up to shake his hand and he gave me a big hug!

You made my day Jose.

I made my way east to the Bike Kitchen just before the Hollywood Freeway, and was disappointed to see the door padlocked and barred. But as I pulled up, a cheery voice called me from the other side of the street. TJ is a volunteer at the Bike Kitchen who is just putting the finishing touches on his own bike shop across the street on Heliotrope. He has a fire in him, so excited about the business of setting up a parts and service shop.

He had a lot to say about the bike community in LA. The community is rather new, as the ridership slowly grows from just a few brave commuters to a visible movement, evidenced by the Tuesday morning mass ride through the city. He tells me the Critical Mass ride is too stressful for him these days, with 1400 riders and police choppers in persuit, but that the Midnight Ridazz this Friday is more mellow and fun. He kindly lent me a pump and we talked bikes, road conditions and he gave me some advice about bike parts.

He also advised me not risk my life again on Cahuenga Boulevard, and after a quick tour of the neighbourhood, I hopped on the Metro at Vermont/Sunset and made it home in 35 minutes.

Waiting for the elevator on the platform at North Hollywood Station, another Metro passenger/cyclist told me that he really likes the ease with which he can hop on. He said that the train does get Tokyo-busy in rush hour (he knows from experience), but you can always squeeze your bike in the first or last cars where there is a designated space.

Sure, LA's a big city but there are communities of people people participating in life, doing stuff they enjoy, communicating, doing stuff that means something. A lot of little good things can build momentum to create more happiness. On the way back to the station I was smiling thinking about the day's adventure and a stranger smiled back, which only made my smile broader.

North Hollywood on two wheels

Feeling restless last week Wednesday, lacking my own wheels I borrowed a speed bike, a Fuji Ace with the drop down handle bars. In the last few years, I've had two Giants, one a low-end heavy frame I hybridized, the other a Rock 5000 I put street tires on. Riding the Fuji, which has a long fram and racing handle bars to begin with, I feel like I'm stretched out over the bike, and feeling it in my lower back.

But we've had some rides, touring around Burbank to see the studios, Griffith Park and environs, Sun Valley and towards San Fernando Valley. Google maps help me get a handle on the distances, and Bike Metro has been invaluable in plotting routes and anticipating terrain. It's like Mapquest, only it's two-wheel oriented. Bike Metro tells you about the terrain, helps you select routes with fewer grades for easier cycling, and even selects routes that combine bus and train lines with bike routes. So far, the coverage only extends to LA, Riverside, Orange and San Bernadino counties, but the developers intend to go nation wide.

Today's trip is to The Bike Kitchen in LA. Don't fret, the drivers here are no more homicidal than those of any other major city. I've survived Kathmandu, Tokyo and Bangkok on two wheels. Besides, the heat means everybody's on California time. Pretty mellow compared to Jland.