January 15
The day began with a visit to Yokohama, a fairly long drive across a very foggy Tokyo. Barely anything was visible in the fog, as it stretched on for miles, though all the eye could discern was just the few thousand feet ahead. We crossed the Rainbow Bridge and entered Yokohama City proper. On a clear day, we were told, we would be able to see Mount Fuji from the Bridge, but as today was most certainly not a clear day, those hopes were dashed for the moment. We drove through Yokohama's Chinatown -- the concept of a foreign culture having its own zone in a Japanese city is fairly rare, as Japan was isolated as an island nation for 300 years of its history. In any case, seeing a Chinatown in a Japanese city did not seem nearly that exotic -- China is only a short hop across the ocean away, and Japan's culture and language bears many Chinese influences. Yokohama's Chinatown did not contrast as much with the culture of the city as say, Chinatown in Boston contrasts with the colonial architecture.
Soon enough we arrived at the Port of Yokohama. Part of the reason for Yokohama's diversity is that has served as a thriving port city and thus has had contacts with other cultures more than the rest of Japan. At the port, we disembarked from our van and met with Mr. Christopher Bell, a Canadian who was working for the Japanese port. We boarded a small boat that would take us around Yokohama Harbor. As the waves rocked the boat and we moved about the port, Mr. Bell pointed out various landmarks and features of the city surrounding the port. Most of the land is dedicated to port-functionality, essentially loading and unloading huge cargo ships. These cargo ships verily merit the word huge, for they are truly behemoths in the water, displacing thousands of cubic meters. They are loaded with huge cranes called gantries, which are able to take 40-foot long crates and fill the ships with them. Some cargo ships can carry up to 2,000 or 3,000 such crates at one time. Mr. Bell also pointed out some specialty ships, such as the car carrying ship, built to carry around 600 cars on a transpacific voyage to the United States. As our little boat moved past the huge ships with their crates and gantry cranes, I felt at once how huge the world is, with these tremendous ships moving billions of dollars (or trillions of yen) of merchandise across the oceans of our little planet. And simultaneously I felt how small each and every one of us human beings is, but how our works and deeds can accomplish things far beyond our size and lasting longer than our merely mortal lifespan.
As we continued to move through the port, Mr. Bell pointed out a fishing pier, recently reopened by the city for use by the populace. It was empty, but we were yet early in the morning. Yokohama Harbor is polluted, however, and any fish caught from it are not safe to eat -- the fishing is strictly recreational. But the mention of the pier pointed out Yokohama City's goal to become a more modern city. Looking east, pointing out rather distant smokestacks, our guide said that the City had evicted the factories and industrial warehouses from their pristine shore side locations, so that they would be able to construct more modern looking and more aesthetically pleasing office buildings. Essentially, the city of Yokohama was trying to make itself a more enjoyable place to live. I reflected on this news with a tad bit of surprise, for there was no mention of costly lawsuits or protests from industry, which would have almost surely occurred in the States, had industry been asked to move. It seemed the companies in Japan had an inherent respect for the environment, even if it causes them to lose money in their business in the short term.
Our little boat continued to make its way around the harbor and Mr. Bell pointed out a Banana warehouse where 90% of the bananas of Japan were processed. We also had a great view of the Landmark Tower of Yokohama, as well as the Queen's Square that all lent their distinctive architecture of the city. That sector of Yokohama was known as MM21, which was an abbreviation for the Japanese words for "Future City 21," a reference to the current city. To my eye, even though the foggy smoke and mist, Yokohama looked like a very modern city. Our boat ride finally came to an end as we returned to the dock where we had started. Mr. Bell mentioned that they were rebuilding the passenger terminal to have a more modern look, as well as to offer more facilities. It looked very organic, with no stairways, only gradually rising ramps that recalled the ebb and flow of waves upon the shore. Construction was racing along, for the FIFA World Cup 2002 Finals were coming to Yokohama City in summer and the City was striving to look its absolute best.
We walked around the port for a while, and then went out into the City to eat lunch in a classy European style restaurant. I noticed that Japan was much more Western than I originally thought -- Western songs, clothing, design and art were firmly embedded in the culture. I remembered a remark I had heard before coming to Japan, that, to paraphrase the source (which I cannot recall): Most Japanese lead two lives, one Eastern and one Western. And the Western life was the one that was presented to the West, though with more smiles and kindness than one usually finds stateside, save perhaps in some parts of the Midwest. We ate lunch and then, after a long and enjoyable conversation, parted with Mr. Bell and headed to an office in Yokohama, where we met with the coordinators of the Yokohama Business Bureau. There, they outlined and presented their plans for Yokohama and showed how they were working as intermediary between Western businesses looking to invest in Japan, and small to middle sized Japanese companies looking for new markets in the West. Even though Japan's economy is supposedly depressed, I once again felt the strong pulse of a nation that is seeking to grow -- Yokohama City reminded me in part of San Jose, where ISEF 2001 had been. Even though it was after the Internet bubble burst, the surroundings and architecture were still lush, and the feel of business still hung in the air. The difference between the two cities was whereas in San Jose the feel of business was fading from the air, in Yokohama it was gradually appearing, almost tangible in the hopes of the people. The World Cup finals will only serve to stimulate the economy and will hopefully help lift the City out of its slump -- though by all appearances, the City is in more of a boom than a slump. But that might be said for Tokyo's appearances, dotted with cranes atop buildings, as well.
After meeting with the Yokohama Business Bureau, we went up to the top of Landmark Tower, where once again we were told that we would be able to see Mt. Fuji on a clear day -- but the day had not cleared up, nor did it show any signs of beginning to do so. We contented ourselves to snapping a few photos of the parts of Yokohama that were not entirely shrouded in gray mists and we admired the modern architecture from our lofty vantage point. One thing I noticed in the Landmark Tower was that women in dress uniforms staffed all the elevators. These women sometimes stood one after another to guide tourists into the elevators, where another woman would press the buttons to take us up to the top of the tower, while saying something in Japanese. Mrs. Medlin, our chaperone, remarked that when she had been in Tokyo in 1994, it had also been this way there -- this was how Japan kept its amazingly low unemployment rate, even in the face of the economic stagnession (a mix of stagnation and recession). However, Tokyo's businesses had been forced to cut back, whereas Yokohama as yet still enjoyed the fruits of foreign investment. Debra remarked that if the uniforms were in use stateside, women would probably protest sexual discrimination and refuse to wear them. However, they added a touch of class rarely seen in today's world and made visiting the Landmark tower seem all the more special, even if we did visit on a foggy day.
Once we descended from the Observatory on the top of the tower, we walked through the bottom of the tour, which was comprised on shops. Most shops sold Western goods and propagated Western style design and ideas. It felt as if I were in America, albeit some part of America with a high concentration of Japanese. Yet with store signs touting popular American brands -- in both in English, and smaller, off to the side, in Japanese, I could not help but get the feeling that I was back home, in a way. I also felt a little sad, for it seemed that when I had visited Europe, American culture and consumerism had almost been scorned with a touch of what might be called snobbism, whereas here it had been nearly wholehearted embraced and touted as the Future.
We parted with our remaining two guides and drove out of Yokohama City, heading to Tokyo, where we would visit the offices of the Yomiuri Shimbum, Japan's -- and the world's -- largest newspaper, with a circulation of over 10 million people. Once we were back in Tokyo, we disembarked and entered into the offices of the Yomiuri, waiting a moment in their spacious lobby for a representative to come down to give us a tour. Debra noticed that the fish tank near the center of the lobby wasn't a fish tank at all -- it was rather a clear plastic box with an LCD screen inside that projected the illusion of fish. Technology can truly appear everywhere. Our representative arrived, and he took us up the elevator to an auditorium room. There we watched a short introductory video about Yomiuri Shimbum. From time to time, a little animated character would pop up and announce, in a very high voice, "The Yomiuri Story," which was followed with a historical factoid about the newspaper. The first time it appeared, Debra and I looked at each other because it was so strikingly different from the rest of the tone of the video. In any case, the video informed us about how much the Yomiuri Shimbun did for Japanese culture -- they are the only newspaper in the world to fund an orchestra. The Yomiuri truly outreaches to the community and gives back to its citizens. I was very much surprised at how wide and expansive its business was -- in the US, a newspaper company is a newspaper company for the most part, with a few exceptions (notably USA Today, which also has outreach programs). The Yomiuri Shimbum even owns an entire baseball team: The Yomiuri Shimbum Tokyo Giants. Once the video, complete with its little animated newspaper character, came to an end, our guide asked us which departments of the Yomiuri we would like to see. We selected Photography and Graphic Design. We went down to those respective sections, luckily at a time when no deadlines were particularly close and thus the atmosphere was fairly calm. As we strolled through the Photography department, looking at the various photos on the walls, each uniquely beautiful and representative of Japanese culture, I pondered how digital cameras are not yet at the quality of film, and of how there is a certain art to film itself -- a sort of organic quality that gives it a feel that digital lacks. My mind hearkened back to my days a few summers back when I would develop my own black and white photography, remembering the joy to see photos appear. We walked out of the photography section and past a few front pages that had been framed, mostly because they had presented noteworthy events. We looked a moment at the horrific picture of the World Trade Center and Pentagon disaster, in a paper dated September 12, 2002 -- Japan is 14 hours ahead of the East Coast. After a moment of silent pause, we moved onto the cafeteria, where over some refreshing orange juice, our guide, Mr. Fukuda, interviewed us about our projects. We explained as best we could, with Mrs. Mizoguchi working as an interpreter from time to time, though Mr. Fukuda had an excellent grasp of English. He had read our abstracts and was well prepared with relevant questions, as well as some lesser ones, such as attempting to decipher blurred text from a fax of one of our abstracts. After a rather lengthy conversation, in which we revealed our chance Japan connections -- my lab had been owned by Mitsubishi Electric and Debra's supervisor had come from Japan, we parted back in the electric fish lobby and boarded our van to go back to the New Sanno.
We drove through the rapidly darkening streets, passing by the lights of Tokyo in the evening and reached our hotel. Awaiting us there was Ms. Yukiko Ohhasi, a winner of the Japan Student Science Awards about when we were born; she would serve as our voice at the Student Science Awards on the twenty-first. She showered us with gifts and kindness, presenting us with tiny stuffed animals of our respective Chinese Zodiac symbols -- a small fuzzy boar for me and a cute little mouse for Debra. She also went over her immense amount of notes on our projects with us -- both Debra and I were amazed. Elegantly written in the margins and between the lines of a 200% copy of our abstracts, were small comments and notes in Kanji. She asked and we explained -- afterwards, she let us know about the questions that we would be posed in the interview. Then, after receiving a few more small pieces of information, such as how to do Japanese style cooking and information on samurai, Mrs. Ohhasi departed. Next, we went to work out. After working out, we wandered down, sweaty and tired and decided that we would eat dinner a bit later -- as we should wash up ere stuffing food into our mouths. We did so, and as I was on the upswing of my varying hunger levels, I consumed a steak, which I must say was very good. We talked for a while and then went upstairs to pack for Kyoto, which would be our destination for the next few days. I stuffed my backpack full and then went so sleep, wondering about what the more traditional part -- or perhaps traditional is the wrong word, perhaps it ought to be called simply older -- what the older part of Japan would be like. In any case, I slept peacefully until dawn, and then slept some more until my alarm woke me.