Surviving trains in Tokyo

Tokyo Station

During my regular commute in Tokyo, I can't help but notice many foreigners sporting huge travel backpacks and lost, helpless looks on their faces as they stand. Right. In. The. Middle. Of. The. Escalator. 

To be fair, this is not limited to foreign travelers. If only that were the case, there would be fewer instances of business people swerving around people on train platforms in a desperate bid to to make their train. 

No, other culprits include old people who can't move quickly anymore (and I say, why should they have to? They made it this far in their lives, they deserve the break) and Japanese tourists who come to Tokyo and don't understand people in a hurry. 

However, today I offer tips to foreigners who don't seem to realize how insane it can get on trains in Japan. 

Tip 1: If you can, do not go near a train station between the hours of 7-11 a.m. and then 5-1 a.m. If you find yourself in the unfortunate situation of riding a train during these hours, please follow my guide below to survive.

Tip 2: In Tokyo, stand on the left of the escalator if you just want to stand there and not run up the steps. Make every effort to merge your body with the left side of the escalator. 

Tip 3: If you feel the need to be lost and try to find your way by looking at a map, press yourself against the nearest train station wall, not in the middle of the walking area. Exception: Do not stand anywhere near stairs leading to a train platform. Stay far away from these during your period of being lost. 

Tip 4: Ride the elevator if you are with small children, pregnant, sick, old or injured. 

Tip 5: While riding a train anywhere, it's never a good time to call up your buddy on Skype on your phone and say, "You'll never guess where I am!" Text? Go for it. 

Tip 6: Don't try to rush onto a train that's about to leave unless you are ok with the entire car full of people staring at you, whether you make it or not. Japanese business people rush the train all the time, but now is the time to shine and say to Japan, "Look at what a good tourist I am. I didn't rush the train." (Though if I'm in a hurry, I have been known to leap like a gazelle between closing doors)

Tip 7: Want to make the jaws of fellow Japanese passengers drop in a good way? Try any of the following:

                 A: Give up your seat to anyone you feel needs it. The standard is to give up your seat for people who would also prefer the elevator (see Tip 4) 

                 B: Stand to the side of train doors when boarding and wait until everyone needing to get off does before you enter.

                 C: If a door is closing on someone who is rushing the train (see Tip 6) and you are near the door, reach out and pull the door back so it doesn't shut on them. Only do this if it looks like they will get stuck otherwise. 

                 D: Always walk on the left side in the train station. 

                 E: Try not to bump into anyone anywhere, and if you do, bow at them and say "Sumimasen." (su-ME-mah-sen). Especially do this if the person you bumped is old. 

                 F: Help someone trying to put their bags on the overhead wrack on the train. 

                 G: If you see someone molesting usually a high school girl in a short skirt, feel free to point at the   offender and say loudly, "Chikan!" (CHE-kahn). This means pervert. 

                If you feel like you could take the offender on should they attempt a swing (some of them are drunk) and want to play the hero, then grab the offender's arm, declare they are a chikan, drag them off the train at the next station and find someone in a station uniform. Then tell the official about the chikan. (NOTE: Do not attempt unless you seriously could handle either someone potentially verbally assaulting you or physically assaulting you. Do not assume other riders will come to your aid.)

                 H: Let old people get off the train before you if they are nearby. 

                 I: Some old people think they don't need a seat, and then the train jerks forward and they almost fall over or, sometimes, do. Be on the lookout for this and help. 

(Note: Many, many people would prefer not to help anyone they don't personally know, but a philosophy professor of mine once said, "If that's you who's in trouble, do you want to be surrounded by people who will help strangers or people who won't?") 

Tip 8: Lost? Feel free to ask the train staff (usually near the ticket gates) or a young-ish person (go for someone who's the same sex as you if you're not hoping to look like you're just hitting on them) for directions. I recommend middle school kids just because they have whole sections of their English textbooks dedicated to giving directions at train stations, and their English teachers would be incredibly thrilled if those kids actually put that knowledge to use. 

As promised in Tip 1, here is how to survive rush hour. 

Rush Hour Tip 1: Know your destination in advance, and know exactly what trains you need to get there and on what platform you need to be for each connect. If you have to wander lost in the station trying to find your connection and whatnot, stay as close to the walls of the train station as possible while you look. 

Rush Hour Tip 2: By a touch pass. You can do this at most ticket dispensing machines at most train stations. Putting about 1,000 yen on your card should get you where you need to go. This saves you having to stare at the train maps over the ticket machines trying to figure out what ticket you need to buy. 

Rush Hour Tip 3: For God's sake stay out of the middle section of where people are walking in train stations. This area should be reserved for business people who know their train routes better than the lines to their favorite movie. 

Rush Hour Tip 4: If you are donning a huge backpack, arrange it so it's against your chest rather than your back. This will help prevent you from accidentally taking someone out should you quickly turn around. Try not to have your backpack on you when you're in a crowded train because no one wants to have their face pushed up against a backpack you've been using every day during your month-long tour of Asia. 

Rush Hour Tip 5: The train will be packed full of people. Do not fight against the flow onto the train, but try not to squish the old person who was also unfortunate enough to get stuck traveling during rush hour. 

Rush Hour Tip 6: There is always room for you on the train. Do not be intimidated by a train door that opens to reveal a wall of people. Just bow your head once and back your way into the train. 

Rush Hour Tip 7: Do not be afraid to get off the train if the doors open opposite to where you are standing. Yell out "Orimasu!" (Oh-REE-mahs) ("I'm getting off!") and push people out of your way until you are off the train. 

Rush Hour Tip 8: The rules of courtesy still apply in crowded trains in that if someone who looks like they need to sit down is standing anywhere near where you are sitting, stand up and give them your seat. 

Rush Hour Tip 9: Know the name of the train station you want and train your ears to the announcements. Sometimes you are so jammed into the train that you can't even scratch your nose, let alone peer out the window and see what station you're at. 

Rush Hour Tip 10: Put your arms in front of your chest like someone is about to attack you when you're on the train. This gives you a little breathing room. 

Rush Hour Tip 11: On the escalators, hug that left side of the escalator and make yourself as small as possible or someone running up on the right will run directly into you...and keep going. 

Tax time

A tax center

It began with a call to my cell.It was an unknown caller so I ignored it. 

That evening another call came. Same number, but not a number I knew. I Googled the number, but nothing came up. 

Finally - after six calls in three days and dragging a coworker into answering the phone with his burly voice - I discovered it was the tax branch of my company calling me.

Now, I am not what anyone would dream to label as a tax expert, so I can only explain based on what I can understand of taxes, which is very little. I know, for instance, I need to pay them. 

What the tax branch representative seemed to be saying, which was in rapid Japanese with a nice hint of extreme keigo, was, "Sorry, we can't file your taxes this year so you're going to have to file them yourself."

For reasons beyond my comprehension, Japanese companies file your taxes for you. Usually in November my company sends me this form asking me if I have any dependents and such, I fill out the form and send it back to them, and they calculate and send the tax forms. Every now and then I get a tax return. And that's it. 

This was the first time I'd have to go file on my own, however, and I was dreading it the way I had dreaded my double root canal. I had the feeling this would be just as painful. 

I found a tax center nearby with a security guard in the lobby. 

I held up the documents my company had sent me, and I literally said, "Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing."

The security guard nodded like I was not the first person to have said this to him and pointed me toward a line of people. He told me to get in that line.

Ten minutes later I repeated my genius phrase to another man behind a desk, who looked at my yearly pay slips and filled out parts of a form for me. He slipped everything into a clear plastic folder, handed them all back to me, and told me to get in another line. 

Another ten minutes and a woman ushered me over to a desk, where I filled out basic information on the form under the watchful eye of another man. The man went over my form, asked me to double check everything, then ushered me into another line to input this all into a computer. 

After waiting in another line another ten minutes, I had a guy basically clicking through the online application for me. I filled in all the basic information again, plus my income in the designated slots, and he would click or tell me what to click. 

I waited in another line to print those forms out, a woman told me to put them in a green box right behind me (and she held onto the form until I had put it halfway into the green box, then let go), and I was done. 

I walked out of the tax center completely stunned. 

At no point was my brain required for any of this. No part of the process had left me scratching my head wondering what on earth was going on. If I could write my name and address, I was already at the finish line for filing taxes in this country. 

How could it be so completely easy? How on earth could it have been so easy?

For years and years I've learned to dread doing taxes because either you are left biting your nails wondering if you interpreted the forms correctly or emptying your wallet to pay someone else to figure out your taxes for you. It's not a happy time of the year.

But here, in good 'ol Japan, I am apparently allowed to be absolutely clueless about the process of taxes because I just had to wait in a series of lines and wait for a series of people to do it all for me. For free. I was in and out the door no more aware of deductions and merits in Japan than I was before I walked in the door.

Expats in Japan

Waiting to pray at a shrine for the first time this year

I'd like to take this opportunity to vent about something that's been slowly driving me insane since coming to Japan to live in 2009.

I don't know if this is true of all countries, and I don't know if it's just me feeling this or not, but does anyone else get put off by the sheer snobbery and superiority complexes of other expats?

Even in magazines geared toward expats in Japan, I've noticed the absolute snootiness with which the magazine refers to newbies to the country.

At a company I used to work for, anyone who had just arrived in the country was called "fresh off the boat" and considered like a newborn, but with disdain.



Expats who have been here over 20 years, I have found, have stopped puffing out their chests to declare they're experts of Japan. By that point, they just seem too tired to.

No, it's usually the sweet spot of living here between 5 to 10 years when that snobbery reaches a fever pitch. These mid-term expats will waste no time in commenting on your surprise at something in Japan (such as the need to take your slippers off to use a different pair in the bathroom) with something along the lines of, "Aw you're so cute because you don't know anything."

If you find something interesting, or if you believe something is possible (for example, dating a Japanese person), this mid-term expat will swiftly destroy that hope or that joy with such fleeting phrases as, "Ah, I remember when I was that stupid and thought such stupid things were possible."

Condescension is the method of choice in beating out any sense of hope anyone living here for less than five years may still have within them, so that these poor people will either go back to the country they came from or turn into bitter mid-term expats, themselves, compelled by divine revenge to then pass on the gloom to  newly arrived people.

If I may ask, expat people living in Japan, could you just stop? Unless the new person is at risk of losing their life or getting into some serious trouble, why not just let them experience Japan in their own way, free of your pompous commentary on how new they are to it all?

Is there really a need for the antics of being a snob? Why is not knowing everything about Japan the equivalent of being an idiot?

I am willing to bet that most mid-term expats (and any other snobbish expat) don't know absolutely everything about Japan either. I don't know everything about my home country, so I never came here with the personal expectation to figure out all of Japanese culture.

Yes, it's important to keep an open mind when abroad, because almost as annoying as the snobbish expats are the expats and tourists who say things like, "Well in my country, we would never do this."

However, there is a line between an open mind and making it all a race the way people do with video game levels.

There is no need for the pressure to know absolutely everything or risk ridicule. Let's lighten up, people.

Thank you.

Comedy in Japan

If you have ever read Dave Barry's "Dave Barry Does Japan", you may be under the impression that Japan doesn't do comedy well. Maybe you think their idea of comedy is, as Dave Barry describes in his book, rakugo. 

I absolutely do not understand all of what makes some Japanese comedians funny, but I do find some of them incredibly funny.


Many non-Japanese people who watch TV shows from Japan will often shake their heads and wonder how in the world such a conservative country could be so darned weird.

The answer, my friends, lies in Britain.

Britain is a relatively conservative, proper country that is also famous for such utterly bizarre comedy groups as Monty Python. Japan takes that up a notch.

What Japanese comedians do is poke fun at the supremely conservative society of Japan (the phrase "Stiff upper lip" doesn't go far enough here) by being absurd for all to see. It's cathartic for many in this society to watch these people acting ridiculous and just laugh at how crazy it is.

There are a variety of comedy brands here in Japan. I'll go over a few briefly.



First, the one Dave Barry mentioned in his book, called rakugo.

As you can see in the video, rakugo involves a man sitting on a traditional Japanese cushion, wearing traditional Japanese clothing, and regaling audiences with corny jokes and long-winded stories that have been told for hundreds and hundreds of years. Some have updated twists, but this is tradition more than comedy. Every now and then the comedians will land an actually funny joke or say a corny joke that will illicit a few chortles, but my experience with rakugo has not been fantastic. I believe this is comedy best left to old Japanese people.


Next up is manzai, which is two people talking in front of a microphone. You always have one person who's an idiot and the other who's sharper than a tack, correcting the idiot. The two of them playing off one another can make for some great jokes.
Osaka, a large city in western Japan, is famous for producing legendary manzai comedians. Manzai is also riddled with jabs at Japanese culture the way the routines of stand-up comedians in America are, so consider understanding all of a manzai routine as the ultimate Japanese Language Ability challenge.

Arguably the best duo of manzai is called Knights (see video). The man on the left is the idiot and the man on the right corrects him. This duo is known for their insane speed of delivering their lines and the way they can both weave a pretty decent (though mistake-riddled) story in the space of a few minutes.

(Highlight from their sketch above:
 Idiot: I was in a bike accident and put into "rock-habilitation" for a year
Smart guy: "Rehabilitation", you mean. Why would you use that moment to declare your hope of becoming a rock star?)



Next up are a couple other comedic duos who don't do manzai, but, instead, think up funny comedy routines the way Will Ferrell makes up comedic personalities like Ron Burgandy.



The first duo I like are called Cow Cow (and yes, they know what the word "cow" means).

In Japan, for reasons yet to be explained to me, many people listen to the radio in the early morning (usually old people), and the PBS of Japan (called NHK) broadcasts "radio exercises" for people at home to listen to and do. The music to accompany the radio exercises is always a piano, giving it all the feel of a nursing home.

Here is an honest-to-God radio exercise program that was also broadcast on NHK's TV station:

If you can watch this for a few minutes without laughing, you are more mature than I am.


Now, Cow Cow also couldn't contain their laughter when watching this, and so decided to make a spoof on this cultural treat of Japan, called "Obvious Radio Exercises."

Highlights from this gem of a routine include their first set of exercise instructions: "If you put your right foot out, then put your left foot out, you can walk."

Another is: "If you call someone over and they stand way too close to you, it annoys you."

Yet another is: "When playing rock,paper,scissors, if you throw out your move after your opponent, you will win."

This duo was incredibly popular last year, with many a middle school student quoting the duo's routine or making up their own versions.



One that's popular this year is called Doburoku (their name is apparently a combination of their names)

They are famous for a song they sing called "Just maybe", in which they sing from the point-of-view of a guy faced with a situation involving a beautiful woman, and how the man believes anything the woman does is because she secretly likes the guy.

In a nice way of rounding out this whole post, here they are performing on a famous rakugo TV show.

Highlights from their song include such lyrics as:
 "When I sat on the train, a woman sat down next to me and ended up sitting on part of my coat."
 "Just maybe, just maybe, she just didn't want me to leave."

"When I was standing at a bus stop, the woman standing next to me couldn't stop coughing."
 "Just maybe, just maybe, she was overwhelmed by my pheromones."

"At the last stop on the train, I saw a woman still sleeping on the train."
"Just maybe, just maybe, she was hoping for a good-morning kiss from me."

"This woman was walking toward me, but completely engrossed in her phone, and she ran into me."
"Just maybe, just maybe, she was searching for 'Hot guy' on her phone, and her search found me."


I quite like Doburoku, who are continually updating the lyrics to this song.

The power of the kotatsu

A kotatsu

For several years I've wanted to buy a kotatsu. In case you're not sure what they are, they are tables with an upper table that you can take off in order to drape a thick blanket over the base of the table. You shove the upper table part back, and voila, you have a table with a blanket.

You sit on the floor to enjoy your koatsu, usually on cushions.

I forgot to mention the best part of these lovely tables: They come with a little stove attached to the bottom of the base table, ensuring your lower body (or all of you depending on how swallowed up you become in the kotatsu) is toasty warm.

I finally bought one last year, and I haven't looked back.

Kotatsus are quite possibly the greatest invention for winter that has ever been thought up.

They are also like the black holes of the universe, though. As soon as you turn on that little stove and have a nice clementine or two within arm's reach along with a nice cup of tea, you may never leave the kotatsu. Like a weekend of random club hopping and binge-drinking, your entire weekend could be swallowed up in a heart beat, and you may never realize it.

As it finally feels like it may be winter here (which I find deeply unfortunate), I've set up my kotatsu for the winter, and I'm currently nice and warm as I write this, and quite unwilling to get up and do anything, which may include making dinner.

Somehow these nifty devices make winter a little more bearable, but I have yet to figure out how to willfully turn the kotatsu off, get up, and do something remotely productive. Why bother when you can sit here, instead?

I have a dream of one day buying this one, featuring a Mickey Mouse pattern: http://www.bellemaison.jp/disney/102/pr/3202013C/150580/?SHNCRTTKKRO_KBN=0H

America, why don't you have these yet?

Fast Food Chains in Japan vs. America

A menu for Dominos in Japan

This may come as a shock to...no one...but McDonalds and such can be found nearly everywhere on Earth. The Sphinx in Egypt, what is it looking at? I heard the answer is a KFC. I was personally dumbfounded to find a Starbucks put right outside the entrance to Canterbury Cathedral in England.

Japan, naturally, is no exception. Although Burger King is becoming harder and harder to find, and I've yet to see a Taco Bell, you can find Subway, Pizza Hut, McDonalds, Coldstones, Dennys, Starbucks, Baskin Robbins and Dominos here. (I know that many people don't consider Starbucks to be a part of the fast food industry, but I believe it fits the description pretty well.)

To be clear, it is my firm belief that when you are in a foreign country as a tourist, it is your sworn duty to avoid fast food places available in America like the plague. I think it's absolutely ridiculous to go to, say, Italy and spend your entire time there eating at McDonalds.

However, when you are living in a foreign country for a long time, you start to miss eating some of the food from home. I mostly enjoy cooking food from home, but every now and then I like to wander into a fast food place and just see what they have from time to time.

Below is a list of what makes each fast food place different compared to its counterpart in America.



First, as a general rule to remember, portion sizes in Japan are a fraction of what they are in America. Don't walk into any of these places expecting that 100 yen will get you a hamburger the size of your fist.

Second, a little trait that I happen to love, most of Japan's fast food places offer unsweetened versions of tea (green, oolong, black) right alongside their options for Coke or Pepsi. Japan also offers, in some places, a lovely green pop called Melon Soda, which is amazing.

Burger King 
As I said, Burger King is disappearing in Japan. I have no idea why, actually. Therefore, I've only had a couple of opportunities to eat at Burger King here, and neither one left much of an impression on me. The portions were, of course, smaller, but I feel like it was about the same as America.

Taco Bell
I've never seen a Taco Bell in Japan, but I've heard rumors that it exists somewhere. I, personally, do not care about Taco Bell so I've never actively gone looking for it.

Subway
Much to my supreme disappointment, Subway in Japan does not offer the Italian herbs and cheese bread option. You have four bread options: White, wheat, honey wheat and sesame. The menu, in general, is much more bare-boned than what you expect in America's Subways. There are no chips available, either. Still, every now and then it's nice to eat a sandwich.

Pizza Hut
There is only delivery available for Pizza Hut here; no restaurants. However, I loathed the Pizza Huts in America. Their pizzas tasted disgusting. In Japan, much to my delight, Pizza Hut is actually really good. It's expensive (Japan's large is the size of America's medium, and for about double the price), but it's worth having a nice pizza from them every now and then.

McDonalds
The portions are, again, smaller, and the options available on the menu aren't fantastic, but what I love about the McDonalds in Japan is that people actually go into the restaurant and eat there. When was the last time you saw that in America? I only remember people who hadn't mastered the art of eating while driving who were condemned to eating inside. In Japan, though, people go to McDonalds to study, hang out or just relax for a bit. McDonalds has started to realize this, and they are rolling out McDonald's cafes everywhere in a kind of cute attempt to cut into Starbucks' turf.

Coldstones
Japanese people do not like incredibly sweet, rich-tasting desserts. Japanese people were born and raised on fluffy cakes with incredibly light whipped-cream frosting that has only the hint of something sweet to satisfy you with taste. Needless to say, I am not a fan of what Japan has to offer by way of cake. Their ice cream, unfortunately, was beaten into line with their cakes. Coldstones in Japan may look like the ice cream back home, but when you taste it, you will mostly taste ice with a sprinkling of sugar. It's incredibly disappointing.

Dennys
While Americans might think of the word ghetto when they think of Dennys, in Japan, Dennys is just another one of their fast food chains that are disguised as restaurants. They call them "family restaurants." This is when you want to sit down somewhere slightly nice-looking, but you don't want to spend too much money. Dennys in Japan is, therefore, about 2,000 times nicer than the ones in America.
   Other family restaurants in Japan include Big Boy (also not ghetto), Jonathans, Jolly Pasta, Bamiyan and Saizeriya.
    Each family restaurant takes a stab at appearing to specialize in a particular type of food. So Bamiyan, for example, offers attempts at Chinese food while Saizeriya offers attempts at Italian food. From what I can understand of Dennys, they offer attempts at steak. I personally like Jonathans the best because they seem to have given up specializing in anything, and, instead, just offer "Western" food.

Starbucks
To be honest, I was never a fan of Starbucks. I hate coffee, and I hate things that are overpriced. Starbucks and I were doomed to never be friends. Thus, I usually avoid going to Starbucks in Japan. However, when a friend wants to go to Starbucks, then I have no choice but to tag along. The portion-size rule applies, but the prices seem happily immune to the portions, and you'll find yourself paying around $5 for coffee in a cup that looks fit for a child's tea set. Like in America, Starbucks is designed for you to sit there and study or work if you want, but I have heard of people being kicked out of Starbucks for sitting there for too long.

Baskin Robbins
Most Japanese people don't even know they have Baskin Robbins, even though they see it everywhere. Here in Japan, it's known by how many flavors are offered, Thirty-One. So if you go around asking for a Baskin Robbins, you will be met with shrugs and looks of complete bewilderment. Baskin Robbins may not offer such amazing flavors as birthday cake or cookie dough, but I do happen to love Baskin Robbins over Coldstone for trying harder to be faithful to America's version of incredibly rich, sweet ice cream.

Dominos
I loved Dominos in America, and I love it here in Japan, too. It's a take-out place just like in America, and the menu options are, naturally, different (for reasons unknown to everyone, the Japanese prefer corn on their pizzas and think Americans are insane for wanting pepperoni on theirs), but the taste is basically the same. As a tremendous lover of cheese, especially cooked cheese, I am thrilled that Dominos in Japan is pretty faithful to Dominos in America. The prices are, naturally, terrible (for a large that's the size of America's medium, I get to pay around $30), but it's truly nice to have good pizza every now and then.

Goshuin （御朱印）

A goshuin book

Probably like many other visitors to Japan, I love visiting temples and shrines. The architecture is stunning, the peacefulness of the grounds, the occasional siting of a monk or the distant sound of a large bell ringing into the air...all of it creates spectacular pockets of serenity in places in Japan that could, otherwise, simply be busy, overcrowded, and aesthetically boring.

You can find temples and shrines located in random places all over Japan. I've found the red gate entrance to a shrine tucked in shopping alleyways or standing alone in a rice field. They are everywhere.


First, it might be a good idea to mention the difference between a shrine and a temple. I'm by no means an expert, but this is what I have come to understand.

The entrance to a temple

A Temple: They usually have a large gate that appears to look more like a building than an entranceway. Temples are Buddhist holy sites, and you will find monks with their obligatory shaved heads and long robes at these temples. There is usually a statue of Buddhas and bodhishatvas somewhere in the temple grounds as well.

The entrance to a shrine

A Shrine: These are easily spotted because they have (usually) a red, simple, gate called a torii gate, which is two vertical poles supporting two horizontal poles, at the entrance. Shrines are Shinto holy sites, and you will find priests and priestesses wearing white robes with red pants here. Many shrines are dedicated to certain aspects of life, such as helping you pass college entrance exams, give birth safely, or just commute safely to work.




Despite the fact that temples and shrines are religious sites to two completely different religions, Japan doesn't seem concerned about it, and you will often find temples and shrines coexisting next to one another to the point where you need to ask the nearest person working there whether you're still in the shrine or if you're in the temple.



I like both temples and shrines, and every time I visit one, I try to buy a momento of some sort from each place the way people buy little tokens from the great cathedrals in Europe, I suppose.

The problem is that I haven't had a great deal of luck in finding a good momento. I used to collect little embroidery pouches that contain a good luck charm inside (called "omamori"). These charms are Japan's version of the four-leaf clover that you can carry around with you, but they are more specific. One charm can give you good luck in love; another in health or wealth.

I used to love collecting omamori because the name of the shrine or temple was usually embroidered on the back of the pouch.

The problem, however, is that I learned you should return the omamori after a year of having it. I learned that shrines and temple are like libraries, and the omamori are like books. You can only borrow the omamori, but you have to return it after a year or else you're depriving someone else of that "book."



So that took care of that.

Other than omamori, temples and shrines don't really have anything that you can collect, like postcards or keychains or anything like that (some of the major ones do, however). You can get your fortune on a piece of paper, but even those are often left at the temple or shrine, tied to a rope because the receiver didn't like the fortune they got.

For a long while I had to just be satisfied with the pictures I took.



Then, one day at a World Heritage Site temple in Nikko, I spotted an old woman handing a little hard-cover book over to a monk who was manning the sales of omamori there. I watched as the monk took the book, flipped it open to an entirely blank page, took out a calligraphy brush, and began writing kanji on the blank page.

A monk writing kanji

Upon jabbing my (now) husband repeatedly and dragging him closer to the monk writing the kanji, my husband explained to me that the old woman had handed over what is called a "goshuin."

A goshuin, I have learned, is like a passport. When you visit a relatively large temple or shrine, you can get the name of the place written in a blank page of your "passport", followed by the date you were there. They are supposed to be used for more meaningful purposes than just satisfying my shallow need to collect something from places I've been to, but I knew I had to have one.


So, for around 2,000 yen, I bought the hard-cover book at the Nikko temple and had the monk write in mine. The kanji is stunningly beautiful.



I haven't looked back since.

Every time I go anywhere that I think might have a nice temple or shrine, I make sure to take that little hard-cover book with me. I've got entries from temples and shrines ranging from Kamakura to Aomori. My dream is to one day go back to Kyoto and just go crazy collecting them.

The inside of a goshuin book

If you want to do this, here's how:
1.First, you need to learn how to say the word properly. It is pronounced: "Goh-shu-een", with the emphasis on the second syllable.

2. Next, you need the hard-cover book. These are usually available at the major temples and shrines in Japan, so first you need to go to a huge tourist destination shrine or temple and get one for around 2,000 yen. Just ask at any of the gift shops by saying, "Goshuin?" and look hopeful. Sometimes the hard-cover books are on display, so point at it.

3. Next, I highly recommend you make your life easier by trying to memorize what the kanji for "goshuin" looks like, because if the shrine or temple offers it, you will see signs for it near the entrance, or at the places selling the omamori. The kanji is 御朱印. Do whatever you can to memorize this.

4. If you have no aptitude for memorizing kanji, then you'll have to ask the people manning the places selling the omamori and other items. Show them your hard-cover book, and say "goshuin?" with a hopeful look on your face. Hopefully, they will point you to where you can get it done if you aren't in the right place.

5. If you're at the right place, or if you have memorized the kanji and have found the right place, then open the hard-cover book to a blank page and say, "Goshuin kudasai." (kudasai is pronounced: kuu-dah-si, with the emphasis on the first syllable and the last "i" being a hard "i" like in "ice.")

6. Wait as the person there writes in the book. It's not always a monk or a priest, just to warn you. I've had old ladies working at the temple or shrine randomly do it. Also, at some of the busier temples or shrines, you will be given a number while your book is set down in a line of other books, in which case just wait around that general area as best you can (depending on how busy it is) and wait to get your book back. It can take a few minutes for the person there to get to your book.

7. Get your book back and pay the standard fee of 300 yen. Say thank you by saying, "Arigatougozaimasu" (Ah-ree-gah-toh-goh-za-ee-mahs).



And voila, you have yourself a truly fantastic passport collection.