Secretariat

Boeing C-32

The best-laid rants oft go awry...or get replaced after some second thoughts. I was going to lead off this blog post with a pathetic whine on burnout, ennui, estrangement and a later-in-life existential crisis. However, that tract has been set aside for now, most likely to be taken off the virtual shelf to be dusted, edited and then uploaded onto whatever social media platform is most relevant when I'm forced to retire in a few years' time. So for now instead I will regale my dear readers with an updated rant from the vaults, the original draft of which I meant to upload last Thanksgiving, but instead ended up writing about something else for reasons my predementia mind can't recall. Enjoy...

At times they're kind of cute in their earnestness and innocence. At other moments, however, they're more than a little annoying in their pretentiousness. I'm talking, of course, about those wholesome social media influencers who take it upon themselves to "introduce" on forums like Facebook those supposedly "hidden gems" that lie "off the beaten track" in Japan. These posters are invariably young, white (though not always) and, more often than not, male. The thing is an old geezer like myself is already familiar with many of these places, often in my case through first-hand experience. Many a time during my travels in Japan I've apparently been the only foreigner on the scene, or at least definitely the lone white dude around. And yet I've never claimed to the "discoverer" of said sightseeing spots. In the pre-Internet age I did my research, reading guidebooks and newspaper travel section articles in English; later, as my Japanese improved, I would source Japanese-language publications for information on where to go - usually hiking spots or personal niche locations such as Gunma Prefecture 群馬県. And, obviously, these travel destinations were not unknown to the Japanese.

And yet the influencers would have you believe they're doing everyone a great service by bringing to the light of (lazy) Western eyes the all-important "hidden gems".  Tsuwano 津和野 in Shimane Prefecture 島根県 is a good example of a destination often depicted as being "off the beaten path". Yet I've been aware of Tsuwano since at least the early 1990's, thanks to Lonely Planet and other publications (I have a copy of the second edition of LP's Japan - a travel survival kit, published in January 1986, and there on page 437 is an entry on the Shimane-ken 島根県 castle town). And when I finally visited at Christmastime in 2017, following a none-too-difficult train ride from Yamaguchi 山口, I was presented with a charming town full of gift shops, restaurants, and minshuku 民宿 and ryokan 旅館. A town, in other words, that is almost entirely dependent on tourism for its survival, and hardly an unknown to the traveler who does their homework.

What's most grating, though, is the way some of these influencers try to Japansplain™ when I initiate exchanges with them online. Then again, what does an aging 外人 who has been living, traveling and/or working in Japan since the late 1980's possibly know about what lies outside the Tōkyō 東京 - Kyōto 京都 - Hiroshima 広島 travel corridor, right?

Now it appears the ニワトリ are coming home to roost. Japan is groaning under the weight of overtourism 観光公害, and the backlash has gotten underway. The most recent example* concerns the curious case of the Lawsons convenience store in Kawaguchiko 河口湖 that just happens to be sited in a location that perfectly frames Japan's iconic Mount Fuji 富士山. In the pre-Internet age such a juxtaposition might have gotten a few words in a guidebook, but in the era of influencers, Instagram and social media, the store has been highlighted online numerous times, with the result being the parking lot is now overrun with mostly foreign tourist hordes all trying to get that perfect shot (with many spilling into the street), at the expense of people who actually have to live and work in the surrounding area. My family and I encountered this phenomenon ourselves just a couple of months ago, though the shots we snapped were taken from inside a bus trying to get past the コンビニ without running over any visitors. 

https://twitter.com/donnyjkimball/status/1783808135784018229

Now, news reports on CNN and in The Japan Times indicate that Insta-favorite photo may soon be consigned to the dustbins of Internet history. And this has alarmed those aforementioned travel-promoting influencers. Yet they bear a large part of the blame (in the collective sense) for unleashing the boors upon the good people of Japan. The proliferation of these social media posts has encouraged a following largely made up of tourists and travelers holding (in some cases) extremely unrealistic expectations of modern-day Japanese culture and society to seek out and invade those hidden gems off the beaten path. And the result, unsurprisingly, has been crowds, litter, noise, trespassing and a litany of other problems, with the solutions evolving into measures such as levies, restrictions and mesh nets. 

And all I can say is I'm glad I was able to visit places like the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove 嵐山竹林 and Fushimi Inari-Taisha 伏見稲荷大社 when a gaijin such as myself was an obvious minority among what at that time seemed like throngs of mostly Japanese visitors, but which now feel much more manageable compared to the hordes of overseas visitors descending on these places today. あの頃は良かった...

If you do need one scapegoat to take the fall for all the others, try Avril Lavigne:

Here in China, we're dealing with hordes of a different feather. Foreign tourists are still relatively scarce on the ground compared to pre-pandemic numbers (and the authorities certainly don't make it easy for travelers to get visas), but since Covid-19 restrictions were largely lifted starting in December 2022, the embassy in Beijing 北京 has seen a steady stream of high-level visitors from Washington, D.C., which has kept the VIP section busy coordinating the logistics of these trips. Our most recent distinguished guest was none other than the Secretary of State himself, Antony Blinken, making his second visit in less than a year. One of the roles I was voluntold assigned to your humble scribe was to assist the baggage team. Taking full advantage of my education and skills developed over decades of experiences, this entailed making sure the delegation's bags made it safely from the airport to the hotel where they were staying, and then vice versa. On the day the Secretary and his entourage were due to arrive, we waited in the lounge at the special arrivals terminal at Beijing Capital International Airport 北京首都国际机场, marveling at the ornate ceiling:

Once Air Force Six landed and taxied close to the terminal, we were allowed onto the tarmac:

The Secretary was the last to leave the plane and was quickly whisked off in the official motorcade (note: this photo was taken by a colleague):

At the last moment I was given a different task that allowed me to leave the airport before the luggage had been unloaded from the aircraft. Though our vehicle had to wait for the official motorcade to pass before being allowed onto the national highway, this meant the road ahead was virtually empty, and we made it back into central Beijing in record time.

The delegation only stayed a single night in Beijing on this official visit**, which meant I found myself back at the airport the following evening:

The special arrivals terminal as seen from the airstair:

We brought the carryon bags into the cabin, and afterward were given a brief tour of the plane's interior. Photography wasn't allowed, of course, but I can share the observation that VVIP's do travel well:

Eventually the delegation arrived, to be greeted by officials from China's foreign ministry:

Soon everyone was on the plane, and once it was off the ground, we could leave as well. It was a long day with a lot of standing around, but an interesting experience nonetheless. Still, I hope my next post will be somewhere D.C. bigwigs don't have much interest in visiting. Did I hear someone say Windhoek or Vientiane?:

The days are counting down to when our own VVIP embarks on her first official visit to the U.S. to start college. Though she attends an international school, Amber was able to experience one of the rites undertaken by American high school seniors known as prom:

Mom was eager to record the moment, though the cat seemed less than impressed:

One of the events leading up to graduation at the end of May was the leavers assembly for the grade 12 students. It began with the parents welcoming their young adults as the latter crossed the bridge separating the high school from the lower grades:

This was followed by an awards ceremony, where Amber was surprised to be recognized for her achievements in French (not pictured), psychology and chemistry:

The assembly concluded with a seniors' tradition - the leap from the bridge into a small lake. Though not officially condoned by the school, staff were present in case anything alarming were to happen (which it didn't). Our daughter was in one of the last groups to take the plunge:

That evening Amber attended her school's arts and athletics celebration dinner (in her case for playing the flute in the school band, as well as being on the swim team), held in a swanky hotel ballroom. I don't recall my high school senior year as being such a whirlwind of social activities. Then again, I attended a not very highly regarded public school:

Later, there was an end of the school year concert given by the band, during which our flautist performed a brief solo:

And, of course, when your school is in the capital city of the People's Republic of China 中华人民共和国, it's only natural that your senior class group photograph is taken at the Great Wall 长城 (another high school tradition):

The aforementioned bridge and lake. Amber starts her final exams this week, with the annual senior trip due to be held in the latter half of May (last year the juniors visited Inner Mongolia 內蒙古), following the last of the tests. Graduation will held at the end of the month, along with a formal dinner for the graduates and their families. And in a local take on the proceedings, the final act will be a ceremony to be held at a Confucian temple. Long gone (fortunately) it seems are the days of the Cultural Revolution 文化大革命:

 

With high-level official visits and our only child preparing to leave the nest, you could be forgiven for thinking things have been busy here. Actually, since returning to China from Japan in mid-February, we haven't been doing much in our free time. It's part of the malaise alluded to at the beginning of this post - with the exception of the recent trip to Shenyang 沈阳 that Shu-E and I took at the beginning of April (see here, here, here and here), I haven't had the energy or motivation to get out that often and explore my surroundings. At the same time, I'm not part of any expatriate community groups, so I find myself usually just taking short walks if the need for "fresh" air (this is Beijing, after all, though this day's AQI is a very moderate 59) becomes all-consuming.

One expat activity I do eagerly partake in is that of ordering things from Amazon (in my case, mainly books and shoes), and have them delivered to my DPO address (I could use my Beijing street address to receive mail, but then I would be charged international rates for shipments from the U.S.). Usually the process works smoothly (though not necessarily quickly), but recently I noticed that even though I had purchased a number of items from Amazon, I wasn't getting any notifications from the mail room that there were packages waiting for me to be picked up. When I finally inquired, it turned out that there were 16 items waiting to be taken home! The system had let me down...

One of the books that I ordered was a hard copy of Made in Taiwan, by Clarissa Wei. More than a cookbook, the writer takes a political approach in explaining how the featured recipes tie into the country's culture and history. In a serendipitous moment, when I went downstairs to show the girls the latest addition to my already-overcrowded bookcase, I discovered that my wife had ordered Taiwanese-style bentō 便当 for dinner:

During the preparations in advance of the Secretary of State's visit, some of my coworkers and I had a breakfast meeting on one of the upper floors of the hotel where the delegation would be staying. This was the view:

And the lobby:

Amber and Shu-E have been more socially active than me, for example by attending weekend cooking classes at a local hotel:

Beijing (or at least Chaoyang 朝阳区, the district where we live) can be a pleasant place, despite the pollution and the traffic. This is in large part due to the number of parks, which provide green, quiet respites for the residents:

With the weather warming, my wife set up a barbecue grill and fired up some dinner one recent weekend afternoon. As she proudly pointed out, it looked like she was working a stall at one of Taiwan's numerous night markets 夜市:

Perhaps as spring settles in and with the approach of summer, moods will lighten and certain fires can be rekindled. But as I pen this tome, let it be noted that the date today is the first of May, otherwise known as May Day, a public holiday here in China and in more than 160 other countries and territories (but not in socialist-averse 'Murica, where we choose to honor workers in September). And yet here I am in the office, working overtime despite a restless night that involved the unholy pairing of diarrhea and vomiting. The irony of having to toil on International Labor Day - this is the final struggle. Let us gather together, and tomorrow the Internationale will be the human race! 

I should probably leave that last part out of my annual employee evaluation report, due later this month. 

*Just as I was putting the finishing touches on this entry I came across this article. I stayed ahead of the crowds by visiting Kōya-san 高野山 in June 2007 (see here and here). 

**Read this if you're wondering what Blinken was doing while he was in town. As to what our distinguished visitors eat when in China, this NYT article gives some insight.