Probably one of the best and funniest depictions of the “special position” the Dutch occupied during the period of Japan when all other European presence was forbidden, is in episode 6 of the anime, Samurai Champloo, in which a gay Otaku-esque Dutch guy is so smitten with Japanese aesthetics and its relative apparent acceptance of gay love, that he abandons his Dutch government/army unit in an attempt to blend in and become Japanese. Truly funny and perceptive stuff. There’s some proper full on Dutch spoken in it as well, amidst the Japanese. I never made it as far south as Nagasaki or Hiroshima, though I did live in Taiwan, which is much further south. Strangely enough, I had a great time with a couple of Dutch guys in the week I was in Osaka, who were living there. One night they showed me the “special” red lights district, also technically illegal and officially off limits to foreigners, where the girls all dressed up in different kinds of costumes and themed outfits, including Disney ones, and beamed from the street sides.
“all this is controlled by Yakuza,” one of them said. The other guy joked to me, “that girl was really checking you out, I think she might do you for free if you come back after she’s finished working!”
I just visited Reactor B at Hanford Nuclear Reservation here in Washington, where they made the plutonium that made the bomb that destroyed Nagasaki. It's the subject of my post next week. I'll stop by here again and drop a link for you. If I visit Japan again, I shall make a point of visiting Nagasaki.
Zo'n viertig jaar geleden, woonde ik zes jaar in Den Bosch.
"I believe it’s important to get out of our moral comfort zone. I believe change can happen if we face our role in the world with compassion and extend this compassion to others." This is such an important point to make, and you say it so beautifully. I love how you use travel as a springboard for deeper reflections on culture, history, beauty, morality, and life—as it should be. Also, your prose is so lovely! I absolutely loved this description: "It’s a tree alive with birds."
Thanks so much, Ramya! Each time I try to write a “standard” travel piece, about what to see or do, I feel like a fraud. I like these deep dives, because they reflect what travel is actually like for me. Comments like yours are very encouraging.
I love your writing style, Claire. While so many travel writers are just focused on the cool places to eat, drink, shop, and take photos, you bring thoughtfulness, introspection, and vulnerability. I am so glad to have found you. And I understand wishing you could apologize for your countrymen at times as you travel. I am an American. Ugh. My husband and I have just set out as midlife nomads, owning nothing but what we can carry. I look forward to reading your reflections as we travel and reflect, as well.
Thank you, Sherry! Your comment means a lot to me. I find myself searching for a clearer direction, imagining what my readers might want or need. More concrete travel advice or more lived-through travelogues? I much prefer to write the second type and your words push me closer in that direction.
What an exciting new chapter in life you started! My husband and I also became nomads later in life and travel as minimalists. Our lifestyle comes with challenges, yet the freedom it offers is mind opening. Looking forward to see where you'll go!
I was once on a train from Paris to Frankfurt, on which the attendant informed a young American woman seated near me that the ticket she'd boarded with was somehow invalid (he did explain, but that's not the part of the story that I remember) and she would need to pay. Upon hearing this, she objected loudly to whatever she understood was the issue with her ticket, simultaneously insisting that it couldn't be a problem and also that he should explain it to her in English. (I feel like France is one of the worst places to demand that someone speak English, but I've never tried to test that theory.) Oddly, I don't remember the result either: she stayed in her seat and the attendant left, but I'm not sure which of them gave in. I think she paid, but I can't say that's not just wishful thinking. What I do remember, though, are the two things I thought about doing. Thing one: announce to my fellow passengers in my best (ie, objectively bad) French "I'm sorry; we're really not all like that." Thing two: tell her, "This is why no one likes us. Stop being an idiot." I did neither, of course, but I've thought about that moment many times since. I try not to be that person, but I don't take it upon myself to clean up after that person either. I'm not sure if we owe our countries any more than not behaving like assholes when abroad, but I'm pretty sure we owe them that much.
Thank you for sharing that story. I can imagine your vicarious embarrassment in that situation, the idea to explain or apologize and ultimately doing neither. To “not be that person” is a good moral beginning. Not just for our countries, I suppose, but for humanity.
It is always a pleasure to read you, but this one really hit my solar plexus. WWII, my father a B-17 tailgunner & dead hero, the warship, the testosterone, the projecting, the politics, the presidency....all of it jabbing me with how brilliantly you capture with such elegance what many of us sense, feel and think . Thank you, and keep writing -- I shall keep reading. Bev
It may sound trite but I loved Shogun by James Clavell. It was the first best seller I’d read and I could see why it was popular. I also read Thousand Autumns. There was a very good book that reminded me of the Nflx series, Midnight Diner, Tokyo stories, but can’t recall name. Slice of life through working a sushi bar with his ailing father.
Claire, what a story! I could feel your emotions and understand your situation because I’ve been in your shoes before. Traveling offers us a smorgasbord of experiences, but often, we don’t have choices and must experience them no matter what. You and your husband did great! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you. This is what makes traveling so worthwhile, that we cannot predict what will happen and cannot always walk away from situations and learn things about ourselves and the world in the process.
Probably one of the best and funniest depictions of the “special position” the Dutch occupied during the period of Japan when all other European presence was forbidden, is in episode 6 of the anime, Samurai Champloo, in which a gay Otaku-esque Dutch guy is so smitten with Japanese aesthetics and its relative apparent acceptance of gay love, that he abandons his Dutch government/army unit in an attempt to blend in and become Japanese. Truly funny and perceptive stuff. There’s some proper full on Dutch spoken in it as well, amidst the Japanese. I never made it as far south as Nagasaki or Hiroshima, though I did live in Taiwan, which is much further south. Strangely enough, I had a great time with a couple of Dutch guys in the week I was in Osaka, who were living there. One night they showed me the “special” red lights district, also technically illegal and officially off limits to foreigners, where the girls all dressed up in different kinds of costumes and themed outfits, including Disney ones, and beamed from the street sides.
“all this is controlled by Yakuza,” one of them said. The other guy joked to me, “that girl was really checking you out, I think she might do you for free if you come back after she’s finished working!”
Surreal times.
Thank you for the recommendation! I have seen these girls in fun outfits in Osaka, too. Blending in with them would be hard!
Thank you for this, Claire.
I just visited Reactor B at Hanford Nuclear Reservation here in Washington, where they made the plutonium that made the bomb that destroyed Nagasaki. It's the subject of my post next week. I'll stop by here again and drop a link for you. If I visit Japan again, I shall make a point of visiting Nagasaki.
Zo'n viertig jaar geleden, woonde ik zes jaar in Den Bosch.
Thank you for your comment. And yes, please let me know about your upcoming essay.
"I believe it’s important to get out of our moral comfort zone. I believe change can happen if we face our role in the world with compassion and extend this compassion to others." This is such an important point to make, and you say it so beautifully. I love how you use travel as a springboard for deeper reflections on culture, history, beauty, morality, and life—as it should be. Also, your prose is so lovely! I absolutely loved this description: "It’s a tree alive with birds."
Thank you for sharing this insight and beauty!
Thanks so much, Ramya! Each time I try to write a “standard” travel piece, about what to see or do, I feel like a fraud. I like these deep dives, because they reflect what travel is actually like for me. Comments like yours are very encouraging.
I love your writing style, Claire. While so many travel writers are just focused on the cool places to eat, drink, shop, and take photos, you bring thoughtfulness, introspection, and vulnerability. I am so glad to have found you. And I understand wishing you could apologize for your countrymen at times as you travel. I am an American. Ugh. My husband and I have just set out as midlife nomads, owning nothing but what we can carry. I look forward to reading your reflections as we travel and reflect, as well.
Thank you, Sherry! Your comment means a lot to me. I find myself searching for a clearer direction, imagining what my readers might want or need. More concrete travel advice or more lived-through travelogues? I much prefer to write the second type and your words push me closer in that direction.
What an exciting new chapter in life you started! My husband and I also became nomads later in life and travel as minimalists. Our lifestyle comes with challenges, yet the freedom it offers is mind opening. Looking forward to see where you'll go!
I was once on a train from Paris to Frankfurt, on which the attendant informed a young American woman seated near me that the ticket she'd boarded with was somehow invalid (he did explain, but that's not the part of the story that I remember) and she would need to pay. Upon hearing this, she objected loudly to whatever she understood was the issue with her ticket, simultaneously insisting that it couldn't be a problem and also that he should explain it to her in English. (I feel like France is one of the worst places to demand that someone speak English, but I've never tried to test that theory.) Oddly, I don't remember the result either: she stayed in her seat and the attendant left, but I'm not sure which of them gave in. I think she paid, but I can't say that's not just wishful thinking. What I do remember, though, are the two things I thought about doing. Thing one: announce to my fellow passengers in my best (ie, objectively bad) French "I'm sorry; we're really not all like that." Thing two: tell her, "This is why no one likes us. Stop being an idiot." I did neither, of course, but I've thought about that moment many times since. I try not to be that person, but I don't take it upon myself to clean up after that person either. I'm not sure if we owe our countries any more than not behaving like assholes when abroad, but I'm pretty sure we owe them that much.
Thank you for sharing that story. I can imagine your vicarious embarrassment in that situation, the idea to explain or apologize and ultimately doing neither. To “not be that person” is a good moral beginning. Not just for our countries, I suppose, but for humanity.
It is always a pleasure to read you, but this one really hit my solar plexus. WWII, my father a B-17 tailgunner & dead hero, the warship, the testosterone, the projecting, the politics, the presidency....all of it jabbing me with how brilliantly you capture with such elegance what many of us sense, feel and think . Thank you, and keep writing -- I shall keep reading. Bev
Thank you, Beverly. Your words truly encourage me to keep writing. I needed that.
It may sound trite but I loved Shogun by James Clavell. It was the first best seller I’d read and I could see why it was popular. I also read Thousand Autumns. There was a very good book that reminded me of the Nflx series, Midnight Diner, Tokyo stories, but can’t recall name. Slice of life through working a sushi bar with his ailing father.
Thanks for these recommendations, Jeanine!
Very welcome Claire!
This was such a contemplative post. I enjoyed your photos and traveling along side of you.
Thank you, Mona!
Thanks for this, Claire!
Claire, what a story! I could feel your emotions and understand your situation because I’ve been in your shoes before. Traveling offers us a smorgasbord of experiences, but often, we don’t have choices and must experience them no matter what. You and your husband did great! Thanks for sharing.
Thank you. This is what makes traveling so worthwhile, that we cannot predict what will happen and cannot always walk away from situations and learn things about ourselves and the world in the process.