Yokohama Archives of History

I added an entry at my libraries and archives reference site for the Yokohama Archives of History. My friend Youngsoo, who is studying hygiene in 19th century foreign settlements in Japan often spends time in their archive and I joined her and Hye Kyong for a day there to familiarize myself with their collection. It is only 10 minutes walk from Chinatown and across the street from Yokohama’s pricey Scandinavian restaurant. In addition to some fixed exhibits on the opening of Japan and the foreign settlements in Yokohama, they have public access to extensive historical archives. They also have some open stacks, which include lots of old English-language newspapers which I will have more to write about later.

In addition to hanging out in their reading room, where Youngsoo’s major discovery of the day was the massive tome on “The History of the Yokohama Sewage System”, we checked out their current exhibit on the “Don Brown collection” of books and documents that they house.

Urban Hiking: Kichijoji to Tsukiji Fish Market

Lars and I decided to make a spontaneous hike from Lucky House (which Lars moved into in March) in 吉祥寺 to the fish market in 築地. Basically this means we walked across a vast stretch of the Western suburbs of Tokyo, and through the city to its eastern side, not far from Ginza. It was a great adventure. We left at 23:30 and arrived at the fish market at 5, when it was in full swing (it might have been a little better to arrive a tad earlier). About 10 minutes after our departure, a light drizzle turned into a massive downpour and about half an hour later we found ourself hiking through a massive night time storm. It was fantastic! Ok, we got a little soaked. Below are some pictures of us taken with my cellphone at 2:42 in the morning, somewhere between Nakano and Shinjuku stations:

Lars in the Rain    040402_0242~03
Continue reading Urban Hiking: Kichijoji to Tsukiji Fish Market

The Memento Syndrome

Most people who know me know that I have a serious memory and concentration problem. It is one of many reasons that my favorite movie of all time is Memento. I know I share this problem with millions all over the world, and if they have a club, I should join it. I can’t maintain concentration on a simple thought, especially those having to do with the mundane concerns of our daily lives, for more than a few minutes, tops. This is something I have to face every single day, to the annoyance of my parents, Sayaka, and many of my friends. This morning I left for school and in addition to the simple task of getting myself to school with at least some my possessions (left strategically in my backpack as much as possible) with me, I had to accomplish one other very formidable task: I had to mail a letter at the post office.

I had somehow managed to fill out a form related to my friend Glenn’s wedding, get it into an envelope and seal it. Then, in the space of less than 20 minutes, I had forgotten to take the envelope no less than three times. At first I left it on the desk. Then I left it on a desk a little closer to the apartment exit. Then I left it on my bed. I then went back again to get it and placed it directly next to the exit door where I put on my shoes. I am now writing this entry sitting on the 西武 line train heading for 高田馬場 station just after realizing that my envelope is not in my backpack and is still waiting for me right by the exit.

This is almost a daily occurrence. To give another very representative example, back in November I had to mail some PhD applications off (or parts of them which couldn’t be submitted online). Forms had to be filled out, then they had to be put in envelopes and then mailed. One day, I got all the materials I wanted to send and put them by the door. All I had to do was to bring them with me, buy a few envelopes, and take the materials to the post office to mail them. That was the only task I had planned to accomplish for the whole day. Not only did I not bring the materials with me but I got all the way to the building with the 無印 stationary store and then stopping outside the entrance to ponder in Memento fashion, “Why am I here?” Since I had no tattoos to refer to, I concluded that, If I was me, I probably come here to do grocery shopping. I proceeded to the grocery store in the basement, bought lots of groceries and began my trip home. I then passed the post office. Something began scratching at the back of my mind. There was something important about that post office. Something, perhaps, I was supposed to send. I couldn’t quite get it until I returned to my apartment, groceries in hand, opened the door, and found laying right there in the middle of my genkan hallway, a pile of Phd application forms.

This is why, whenever I have some simple task like this to accomplish, I feel just like the main character of Memento after he got into an argument with the character Natalie and she tells him that she will leave the house, come back in just a few minutes when he has completely forgotten what they had, indeed, that they had, been in a heated argument. I hear myself echoing his words as I run around the room, “Ok, must concentrate, must keep it in my mind. Must…not…forget. Quick, a pencil, a pen, anything, must….write…this…down…”

How to gain 5-8 Pounds of Healthy “Stay There” Fat

I have been looking through some old English-language newspapers in Japan from 1915 (more on this later). I found an interesting advertisement/article on page three of the April 7th issue of The Japan Gazette. Despite the proximity to April 1st (both now and in that daily newspaper), considering some of the strange advertisements I saw in other issues, I can’t tell if it is a joke. I don’t think it can be protected by copyright anymore so I reproduce the whole article here:

How Thin People Can Put On Flesh

A New Discovery Thin men and women – that big, hearty, filling dinner you ate last night. What became of all the fat-producing nourishment it contained? You haven’t gained in weight one ounce. That food passed from your body like unburned coal through an open grate. The material was there, but your food doesn’t work and stick, and the plain truth is you hardly get enough nourishment from your meals to pay for the cost of cooking. This is true of thin folks the world over. Your nutritive organs, your functions of assimilation, are sadly out of gear and need reconstruction.

Cut out the foolish foods and funny sawdust diets. Omit the flesh cream rub-ons. Cut out everything but the meals you are eating now and eat with every one of those a single Sargol tablet. In two weeks note the difference. Five to eight good solid pounds of healthy, “stay there” fat should be the net result. Sargol charges your weak, stagnant blood with millions of fresh new red blood corpuscles – gives the blood the carrying power to deliver every ounce of fat-making material in your food to every part of your body. Sargol, too, mixes with your food and prepares it for the blood in easily assimilated form. Thin people gain all the way from 10 to 25 pounds a month while taking Sargol, and the new flesh put on stays. Sargol tablets are a scientific combination of six of the best flesh-producing elements known to chemistry. They come 40 tablets to a package, are pleasant, harmless and inexpensive, and North & Rae, Ltd., and other druggists in Yokohama sell them.

Tokyo Metropolitan Library

I enjoyed meeting my friend Tony Laszlo for lunch in Hiroo last week when I made a run down there for a month’s supply of Norwegian goat cheese. A grocery store there that tends to the families of the many embassies in the area (including the Norwegian one) sells the big full size blocks of the toxic brown substance I love to cover my sandwiches with. Although our lunch of tea-flavored gruel was no match for a post-lunch snack combination of his rye bread and my cheese, we enjoyed a good talk in the park at Hiroo. We also stopped by the Tokyo Metropolitan Library which has its central branch in the park. I love this library and used to hang out there when I was studying Japanese in Yokohama years ago. Apparently they have wireless access in the library now, but I think you need an account with some commercial service. Also, I’m told they have a lot of materials in their closed stacks which you would normally only find at the Diet Library. So if there is anyone who is tired of the lines and hassle there, you might want to try the library in Hiroo, with its view over the park, as an alternative. Tony and I happened to get there while the cherry trees were blossoming outside. Today the blossoms have mostly fallen, covering much of Tokyo’s concrete in a thin blanket of pink petals.

Grade Inflation

Lots of people moan about grade inflation, especially in graduate school. Some complaints take the form of, “People who don’t deserve an A are getting an A,” and pretty much end at that. Others defend the inflators with, “The grading system is so arbitrary and varies so radically across schools and from professor to professor that it is foolish to injure, however remotely, the chances of students to succeed in the future by actually trying to enforce a meaningful grading system in a class.” Then there is the issue of “performance relative to one’s classmates” vs. “performance relative to a particular standard of learning achieved.” The latter in turn leads to the question of, “Standard? Recognized by and established by who?”

I haven’t really given this or grade inflation in general too much thought. Nor have I read anything by anyone who has (links appreciated). I do know, however, that at Western Washington University, many of my classes had very tough grading practices. In some of my philosophy classes, in particular, it was very hard to get above a B+. The same went for a few of my history professors. In other classes, lower than a B was reserved for “punishment” for students who knew damn well what they did to get it. I was surprised when I discovered that at Columbia, during my masters degree, my grades in the majority of my classes (some notable exceptions) ballooned upwards irrespective of my actual mental investment in the class and in two cases totally irrespective of whether I had a clue or not of what was going on in the class. I assure you I didn’t suddenly get smarter when I entered graduate school and I’m also very sure I didn’t get smarter, more knowledgeable, or more harder working relative to my classmates.

A friend of mine in a masters program at Waseda University got his first “report card” back today. The program uses an A, B, C grading system as the US does in addition to the Japanese gradings 優、良、可. We discovered, however, that grade inflation, or rather, the complete lack of any meaningful differentiation in a student’s input of effort or output of work, is very much alive in his program as well. I was especially interested in a little sheet that came with his report card announcing a new grading system, beginning this semester, which saves professors the trouble and inflates things for them:

90-100% = A+ (formerly A) = 優
80-89 = A (formerly B) = 優
70-79 = B (formerly C) = 良
60-69 = C (formerly D) = 可
0-59 = F

What can we make of this sort of thing? Obviously I should ask the administration directly before making any judgments but my suspicion is that, like many schools, their eye is on how the students will be using these little markings on paper after they leave the school and take the next step. In this case, there is always the chance that students go on to study in the US. I apologize if I’m stating the obvious here, but the assumption seems to be that grades are a form of communication not from instructor to student, or instructor to school about student, but from instructor to everyone in the student’s future. If this is the case, as that old movie quote goes, “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.”

When I finished high school with a 2.6 GPA, about the only positive thing I could have said about my performance in those years was that I showed an amazing respect for “grade diversity.” Finishing at nearly the bottom of my class, I consider myself lucky I got into college at all. I can’t shake the nudging feeling that the whole academic grading thing is a joke of near cosmic proportions, but that we are all prevented from laughing.