Showing posts with label Denizens of Japan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Denizens of Japan. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Denizens of Japan: Mukade (Centipedes)

Source: Wikipedia
There are certain creatures that residents of Japan must be able to deal with. Cockroaches and giant centipedes (ムカデ) are chief among them.

While I've only seen a handful of them during my time in Japan, stories of encounters with these things abound. Can even find a number of people asking in Japanese about how to deal with them (I love how one of the answers lists the possibility of spraying fire at them). Their bites are rarely if ever fatal, but reports do indicate they are painful and can take a few days to heal. If they are common in your area, take care when putting on shoes and getting into bed!

I encountered one in my house for the first time last night. In my shower. Trying to keep me on my toes, I see. Nice one, Japan. The bugger looked kind of like this:
Source
Actually it wasn't really that big; maybe about one and a half times as long and half as thick as my index finger. Still, was a little freaky to notice something crawling along the wall as I washed. In retrospect I wish I had taken a picture, but my first instinct was to kill it. So I quickly grabbed some tile cleaner and sprayed it good, but it was still moving. I had to bring out the big guns - Kabi Killer, which is actually intended for mold but also works on insects.


After it stopped twitching, I used a plunger to stuff it down the shower drain. That's what happens to centipedes in this neck of the woods. I wonder if I should be concerned about the return of the cockroaches, though...have never seen a centipede in my house before and they do feed on roaches. Hmmm.

If you're reading this, successor, be wary.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Denizens of Japan #7: Kappa (Water Imps)

From the time I was a child, as far back as I remember, I've had a fascination with myths and fables. My parents would read me stories from Mother Goose, the Brothers Grimm, and the like. In elementary school I read collections of Greek myths and the polychromatic Fairy Books (not as fruity as they sound). To my memory I didn't come across very many Japanese folk tales, although there are quite a few interesting creatures and myths to be found here. One of the most widely-recognized, I think, is the kappa.

Kappa (河童) are creatures that fall under the blanket term yokai (妖怪;ようかい), which means a ghost, demon, monster, or goblin. Kappa are sometimes categorized as fairies or sprites, but I think they can safely be called imps. Although their characteristics may vary, they are generally short, human or ape-like creatures with greenish, scaly skin and webbed feet and claws. They sometimes have duck or turtle-like beaks, as well, and wear lily-pad-like bowls on their head. Which is perfect camouflage, since they live in bodies of water.

Like many of the imp-like creatures found throughout the world, kappa are generally thought of as mischievous but not necessarily malevolent. I'm not exactly sure why this is, honestly. Although they do occasionally assist humans and are often only mild nuisances, they also have a reputation for drowning people. Apparently small children are their second favorite meal, behind cucumbers (Mmmmm, drowned child). Not only that, but apparently they suck their victims' entrails out through their rear ends. Oh those mischievous kappa!

As the stories go, the only sure-fire way to escape or conscript a kappa is to exploit its supernatural respect for etiquette by tricking it in to bowing to you. This can often be accomplished simply by bowing and then waiting for it to bow back before running away (sounds like this trick might work on a lot of Japanese people I know, too). Once the kappa bows, the water will spill out of the bowl-thing on its head, which as everyone knows, is the source of its strength. Once it's helpless, you can either beat a hasty retreat, or if you're feeling gutsy, refill its bowl-hat with water and hope that it will be honor-bound to become your life-long servant. I'd probably make it my butler (and we've got a sitcom).

In recent years, kappa have gotten some good PR. Today they are viewed more as friendly, often cute, turtle-like man-creatures rather than pranksters or murderers. They have appeared in various media sources throughout the years (I think I remember encountering one in the Harvest Moon video game series), and even have their own sushi chain! I'd say they've made a pretty good turn around. There are still some signs in Japan that caution against swimming in nearby water, however. You never know when a kappa might get you and suck your guts out your butt.

(Top Image Source: Wikipedia)

This edition of Denizens of Japan was written for and inspired by this month's Japan Blog Matsuri, graciously hosted this month by Mazikeen.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Denizens of Japan #6: Nutoria (Beaver-rats)

It seems that at least half of the denizens I've written about have evoked my ire or repulsion in some way. But not all Japan-based creatures have forged antagonistic relationships with me. Take this thing:


How could I hate that? I didn't even know what the hell it was or that it even existed prior to a few days ago. Well, apparently it's a nutria, a.k.a a coypu. The natives call it ヌートリア. The Dutch call them beaver-rats, and I think I can guess why. Anyway, it seems a family just moved (or was moved...?) into a nearby park. They built these dirty-looking nests in a shallow pond. Hey, live and let live. The little ones are even kind of cute. But they'd better leave the sakura and ume trees alone, or they'll soon be on my $#%& list.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Denizens of Japan #5: Karasu (Crows)

Ah, the crow. If the eagle is the king of the bird kingdom, then the crow must be the asshat. These things didn't bother me too much back in the States, but that may just be because I never really had to contend with them. They were just kind of there.

In Japanese, "crow" is からす (karasu). The kanji (烏) looks almost exactly like the one for bird (鳥; tori). Interestingly, the sound a crow makes is almost exactly the same in English and Japanese - "caw" or かあ (kaa). Anyway, in Japan people don't use trash cans or bins when we put out our trash. At least they haven't anywhere that I've been. Usually you bag your garbage and put it in a designated area outside - usually on a curb or in the street. If you're lucky, your trash area may be caged off or in a little shelter. Normally, though, you're putting your garbage under a little net. People will put rocks on top of these nets to make it more difficult for animals to get at the bags, but crows aren't stupid. These dingleberries have big, nasty-looking beaks, and they know how to use them. It's not uncommon to be walking down the street and see a torn garbage bag or two under a net, with orange peels and chopsticks and whatnot scattered all over the pavement. In those cases all you can do is curse silently and pump your fist at any crows you see nearby, and leave the mess for someone else to clean up.

The sounds these guys make also annoy or alarm some folk. When my friend from the States visited, he commented that "those bastard birds" kept waking him up every morning. They don't wake me up, but I can see how they would some people - they sound like shrieking infants.

Honestly, the size of these things has always freaked me out a little. While they're generally pretty cautious, bumming around power lines and high fences, occasionally they will come pretty close. And although I think I could take on a crow, those beaks could do some serious damage. And don't tell me I'm being paranoid. "They're birds, aren't they?"

Monday, October 5, 2009

Denizens of Japan #4: Kodomo (Children)

(Photo by Gobbler)

One indisputable fact about Japanese people is that they have cute kids (子供). They may have the same capacity for mischief as Western kids; they may have the same potential to be annoying at times and throw tantrums when it suits them. But it all falls to the roadside as quickly as a spent cigarette butt flicked out of a car window. Most of the time, especially when you're just an observer, they're friggin adorable.

One behavior I've noticed about Japanese children that enhances their cuteness is a byproduct of their culture. Bullying (いじめ) is another byproduct. In early school life (and perhaps with groups of children outside of school), teachers and other adults don't interfere much with the interaction of young children. There are classroom rules, of course, but it's up to the children to enforce them and bring each other to task. As a result, many young children appear relatively responsible, and you'll often see older children taking care of younger children.

My sister has vocalized her (wish?/prediction?) that I one day sire an Asian baby. While I'm not going to make that a priority in what I'm looking for in a woman ("Ability to produce Asian offspring? Check"), I wouldn't be opposed to the prospect. I mean...look at how precious that girl in the kimono is, for crying out loud. I've almost got it all worked out:

1. Father half-breed Asian baby.
2.
3. Profit.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Denizens of Japan #3: Giant Robots

I'm sure for many people, the mere mention of Japan conjures up images of skulking ninja and noble samurai. And of course they are integral parts of traditional Japan, but we must not look only backward. We must also look forward, to the future! Do not forget that Japan is the land of the giant robot (or you may not be prepared when our metal overlords make their rise to power).

From Transformers to Zords to Gundam, Japan has long cultivated a fascination of these monstrous machines both at home and abroad. Very recently, a life-sized Gundam statue was erected in Odaiba, Tokyo. South Korea is building a giant robot, as well (Thank God it's not N. Korea, or it would probably be functional and atomic powered).

But where did it all begin? Most likely right here in Kansai, in the city of Kobe. The first manga to feature a giant robot was a series called Tetsujin 28-go (鉄人28ー号) - that's Iron Man #28 in English. It was created by a man named Mitsuteru Yokoyama, while he was living in Kobe. Tetsujin #28 was the result of a Japanese project conducted during World War II to create a super robot as a trump card, and assure a Japanese victory. Fortunately for the Allies, there were 27 failures. The 28th model was a late success, being completed just after the end of the war. With no war to fight, Tetsujin #28 was put to work fighting criminals and (apparently) other giant robots. The show has been redone a few times and has even had a stint in America, although redubbed "Gigantor."




Personally I think the "Gigantor" theme is catchier. Anyway, Tokyo isn't the only one with a giant robot. In honor of Yokoyama, Kobe has constructed a giant Tetsujin #28 statue in a park near Shin-nagata (新長田). I went to check it out the other day, as it was scheduled to be done by the end of this month. Unfortunately the scaffolds were still up and the smell of paint was quite strong. Luckily, it's just about finished.



Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Denizens of Japan #2: Shika


The symbol of Nara, the old capital, deer (or 鹿) can be found throughout Japan. In Shinto, deer were thought to be the messengers of the gods. Graceful and swift, these elegant creatures...nah, I can't do it. My experiences in Japan have soured me on the species. Screw deer.

As you can see in the picture above, everyone always wants to pet and feed the deer. "Ohhh, they're so cute." Yeah, until they bite your friggin hand off, eat it, and then come back for more. Seriously, I've never gotten close enough to a wild deer in America to know if they're any different, but the deer here are mangy, scruffy, perpetually hungry, and often mean. They're like goats with slightly more charm. The people in the picture were all too happy to buy those stupid deer wafers that you find for sale around Nara, but shortly after they ran out of the animal snacks, the deer started trying to get into their bags. I pitied them somewhat as I watched, but serves them right for feeding the damn deer. It's not uncommon to see a deer trying to eat a plastic bag someone is holding, or attempting to lick some poor kid's ice cream cone.

My derision for deer was most fully formed by an experience I had at Miyajima - a beautiful island temple right off of Hiroshima that is, unfortunately, a haven for these animals. When the tide goes out from the island, people go down to the beach to look for clams and oysters. As a friend and I were walking along, we noticed that some careless individual had left his bags unattended at the edge of the beach, and a deer was beginning to riffle through them. Being the thoughtful young men that we were, we ran over and tried to shoo the deer away. Result: we almost got kicked in the face. Not only was the dear not scared of us, but it started stomping its leg in our direction. It may not sound that scary, but a stomping deer is nothing to sneeze at, especially if you've never seen a deer stomp at someone before. I hadn't. We backed off, our chivalry and courage dying just short of driving us to tangle with the cervine island-hobo. Oh, you won that day, deer. But you gained more than my surrender; you won my undying contempt.

There aren't many creatures I outright dislike over here. Deer are one of the few.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Denizens of Japan #1: Jorou Gumo

It's that time of the year again. Time for...Jorou gumo![/日本語]


These little buggers freaked me out quite a bit last year as I ran into them on several occassions. They errected some webs near the cafeteria at my high school, and seemed to rule quietly and creepily over a stretch of highway in the mountains near Nagasaki. Luckily the couple times I lived in Kanto I was never around for their life cycle. They seem to pop up around late summer and hang around until late fall or early winter.

From what I can tell, they aren't horribly dangerous. They're venomous, but not life-threateningly so. But man, are they creeeepy. I mean, look at those colors - black and yellow, and females have red blotches on their abdomens. That's the kind of spider that in my mind bites you and gives you mutant superpowers. Or kills you.

Autumn is my favorite season in Japan, but I could certainly do without these little guys.