Kawagoe or "Little Edo"

Inspired by a Sept NYT article, I trekked to Kawagoe this morning to check out the town nicknamed "Little Edo," in reference to the ancient name for Tokyo. Here, you will be transported to the Tokyo of yore, via the town's well-preserved kura, or late 19th century warehouses. Ironically, the preservation of the buildings is due to the resistance of the town's landlords to railways during the Meiji Era. Consequently, many of the town's buildings survived the bombing of WW2.

These days, the kura are used not as warehouses but as retail spaces. Peeking my head under the half-curtains, there were shops for candies, crackers, kimonos, pickles, and more.

Best of all, many of the shops offered samples. And though I don't generally snack between meals, I suddenly felt the compulsion to buy every cracker product under the Kawagoe sun.

In case seaweed rice crackers or green tea candy alone doesn't appeal to you, you can opt to buy super cute panda-wrapped crackers.

Kawagoe's most prominent agricultural crop is sweet potatoes, and you can find all sorts of products made out of sweet potato here, from crackers to sake. This food stall was selling triangular sweet potato cakes, fresh off the griddle. I quickly snapped up three of them.

Three or four varieties of sweet potatoes were also on sale.

The centerpiece of Kawagoe is its bell tower, with a chime that rings four times a day.

Suddenly, a guy began yelling with a megaphone to the street. A parade with drummers and men with conical straw hats followed. I wish I had understood what the announcer was saying, and whether I just witnessed some sort of protest or a historical memorial or a funeral or what.

Just behind the kura district is Kashiya Yokocho, or Penny Candy Lane. This narrow alley is packed with vendors selling candies, crackers (slightly cheaper than on the previous street), and gift items.

One of the local products here is fu, which comes either in large loafs the size of a French baguette, or cut in smaller chunks about 3" long. From the signage, it is made of wheat and sugar, and is a bit lighter than bread. I haven't tried it, but I was convinced by a shopkeeper to buy a bag and bring it home for sampling.

The Kita-in Temple was on my walk back. The original building was destroyed after a fire in 1638, but shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu ordered buildings moved from Edo Castle to the temple.
The grounds also include Hie Shrine. It's funny how many Bhuddist temples and Shinto shrines share the same grounds. When's the last time you ever saw a combined Catholic cathedral and Jewish synagogue?

I am not sure what god this statue is supposed to commemorate, but it seems to be a protector of children based on the offerings: pinwheels, Care Bears, pacifiers, juice boxes, a persimmon, candies...

Finally, the courtyard contains Gohyaku Rakan, or the 500 disciples of Bhudda. Amusingly enough, the monks are depicted in all manner of expression: laughing, drinking, and even picking their noses.

Akihabara or Geekdom, Ground Zero

Faced with the dismal failure of my quest for soba noodles, I thought, "F that, I'm going to Akihabara." For those of you unfamiliar with Akihabara, it is known as Tokyo's center for electronics and the focal point for otaku (nerd) culture. This is the place to go if you are looking for the latest digital cameras, video games or anime releases.

On the way there, I spotted a Mister Donut, a donut chain that Steph had raved about on the plane. Since my stomach had just been denied soba, I stepped in and began translating the katakana on the display labels. Chocolate, honey, curry...whoa, curry? There comes a point in every man's life when he should consider eating a curry donut, and for me, that point was now. I ordered it. It was indeed filled with a savory curry, with a crunchy panko coating on the outside of the donut.

They really like their buildings big and tall over here.

And they're not really ones for subtlety.

I was warned beforehand that Akihabara can be rather intense, but I shooed that aside. I mean, how bad can it possibly be? As it turns out, Akihabara is the munincipal equivalent of LSD in terms of sensory overload (not that I would know). The streets are filled with neon signs, blaring loudspeakers, flashing displays, music cranked to the highest decibel and girls in French maid outfits. Wait, what? Yes, somewhere along the way, Japan decided that it was a) obsessed with Paris and b) obsessed with servility in women and the two have happily combined in the French Maid Cafe phenomenon. At a number of fine establishments in Akihabara, you can indulge in your wildest fantasy of being served and pampered with French maids. They will greet you as master or mistress, cater to your whims and serve you overpriced coffee. I thought about going into one, then decided that it wasn't worth waiting in the line spilling out the door.

I'd been expecting more cosplayers, but instead there were French maids on every corner.

The sign is hard to read, but these girls (and a dude??) are advertising an opportunity to eat at the same table that the Backstreet Boys used for their music video "Bigger" (released on November 2).

Aside from French maid cafes, Akihabara is filled with electronics stores, vendors hawking duty-free items (some specialize in overseas models that will work abroad), and anime and manga media shops. My neurons were overloading. Ceramic knives! Rewritable Blu-Ray discs! Gorgeous, phenomenally crisp 60" TVs with resolutions better than my eyes (for the low, low price of ¥648,000)! Monitor cleaners shaped like a hamburger! Arcades filled with adolescent boys who looked like they hadn't showered in some time!

A capsule pod in an arcade, there is a list of machines that you can fight as.

I was really amused by this taiko drumming video game.

All right, focus Crystal, you don't really need a WiMax router. Or a USB key with a figurine attached that does crunches.

Akihabara's raunchier side also made its presence known from time to time. On more than one occasion, I would be browsing a perfectly respectable manga store, then go downstairs and suddenly notice that all the covers feature scantily clad, big-breasted women and that I was conspicuously the only female in the room. Or, I'd be drawn into a shop by a display of short skirts (I figure I can augment my collection of one). Then the next floor up would feature lingerie and vibrators, and the next floor up would feature clamps and dildos, then the next floor up would feature dolls...

Anyway, I was on a mission with this trip. After a lot of searching, I managed to find a copy of the first Cowboy Bebop album. It took me a while to realize CDs were being sorted alphabetically in hiragana, and even then, the first couple stores I tried didn't carry it. Then, I did some monster hunting for the Tokyo Anime Center, which turned out not to be on the main drag of Soto-Kanda. The Tokyo Anime Center is worth a short sidetrip though; I thought their selection of trinkets and paraphernalia was well-thought out compared to the average jam-packed store.

Several hours of browsing later, I was drained and ready to move elsewhere. Next up, the Asakusa Temple.

Chicago's 1893 World Fair

The year was 1890 and Chicago had just won the right to host the next world's fair, beating out rival bids from New York, St. Louis and Washington. How could the World's Columbian Exposition of 1893 top the previous exposition in Paris, with its imposing yet graceful Eiffel Tower? The city was abuzz with civic pride and felt the enormous weight of upholding the nation's honor. The impossible had to be undertaken; failure was out of the question. Meanwhile, as construction remade Jackson Park into a "White City" (so named because each building was whitewashed), the seedy reality of the Black City was still very much present. Sewage ran openly in the streets. Rats and cholera outbreaks abounded. The poor and the wretched came to seek their fortunes in the city and quietly disappeared without notice.

In a tightly written nonfiction masterpiece, Erik Larson's Devil in the White City weaves the tale of the World's Columbian Exposition (celebrating the 400th anniversary of Columbus' discovery of America) with one of the century's most insidious serial killers, H. H. Holmes. As a resident of Chicago, the interplay between people and events in the Guilded Age and present-day locations is particularly thrilling. Names and places are brought to life as though a century of time has been magically dissolved. If I taught a high school history class in Chicago, this novel would be mandatory reading.

The fair was saddled with bureaucratic infighting, a deteriorating economy and an impossibly tight schedule. Chicago's severe winters hampered the pace of construction and organized labor used the fair as an opportunity to demand concessions for workers. Despite the specters of violence, fire and bankruptcy, the fair did go on to open on time, though not in a fully finished state.

As the fair neared opening day, Daniel Burnham, the chief architect, was desperate for a plan to challenge the Eiffel. In a speech tinged with recrimination, Burnham addressed a group of engineers at the Saturday Afternoon Club, calling on them to perform their civic duty and envision something more spectacular than the Eiffel Tower. "Something novel, original, daring and unique must be designed and built if American engineers are to retain their prestige and standing," he exhorted. As the audience bristled, one engineer from Pittsburgh had an idea come to him. He began hurriedly sketching this faint whisper into hard lines. It would take three attempts before his proposal for out-Eiffeling Eiffel was accepted, but George Ferris was eventually triumphant.

Larson does a tremendous amount of painstaking research and meticulously cites his sources at the conclusion of the book. His mining of the Chicago Historical Society archives and other primary source documents results in many savory tidbits which unapologetically trumpet the voices from the period. An examination of the menu at a grand 10-course banquet held at (old) Madison Square Garden in honor of the fair's architects reveals a country aspiring to ape French cuisine, and show itself sophisticated and worthy of respect:

Consommé printanier. Bass rayée, sauce hollandaise. Pommes parisiennes. Amontillado. Petits Moules fantaisies. Roquefort et Camembert. Cordials. Cigars.

Victorian era mores prevail, as fair organizers succumb to pressure to close the fair on Sundays. The seeds for women's suffrage have been planted, but are far from blooming.

Visitor hunting for an exhibit of wax figures: "Can you tell me where the building is that has the artificial human beings?"

Another visitor: "I have heard of them. They are over in the Woman's Building. Just ask for the Lady Managers."

Of course, there are certain things that never change, as evidenced by the following records of patients treated at the fair hospital:

820 cases of diarrhea
154, constipation
21, hemorrhoids
594 episodes of fainting, syncope, and exhaustion
1 case of extreme flatulence
169 involving teeth that hurt like hell

The fair was remarkable for its international breadth. Over 27 million people (about half of the US population at the time) attended the fair, and many of the sights they encountered were completely novel. Eskimo women wearing blouses of walrus skin. Japanese in red silk. Amazons with bushy hair and teeth necklaces. Algerian belly dancers in robes and turbans. A number of products were debuted and marketed at the fair, including Shredded Wheat, Cracker Jack, and a curious concoction called Aunt Jemima's for which you only needed to add water to get pancake batter. Pabst Brewing Company won an award for their beer, which resulted in the moniker Pabst Blue Ribbon. In a landmark decision, the fair opted to use alternating current circuitry to light the grounds, resulting in a tremendous cost savings and setting the prevailing standard for American cities.

A broad variety of historical figures make cameos in the book, with all the prominent figures of Chicago society (Armour, Pullman, Field, McCormick, Palmer) present. Archduke Franz Ferdinand, described by an escort as "half-boor, half-tightwad," tours the fairgrounds, but especially enjoys Chicago's vice districts. The inventor of the Braille printing press exhibits his new device and is hugged by a gracious blind girl. Her name is Helen Keller. Mark Twain comes to Chicago for 11 days, but ends up sick in his hotel room for the duration of the trip. He never makes it to the fair. Louis Sullivan discovers that one of his firm's junior architects is designing houses on the side for his own clients, and decides to fire him. His name is Frank Lloyd Wright.

In one of the more inadvertent contributions of the fair, Sol Bloom, the director of publicity, was invited to present his Algerian belly dancers at a performance for the Press Club of Chicago. Upon arriving, he realized that the club had provided a hapless pianist for musical accompaniment, who had no clue what sort of music might be suitable for an exotic Middle Eastern dance. Without hesitation, Bloom hastily improvised the following tune:
If only Bloom had bothered to copyright his diddle, the royalties would have run into the millions.

The fair ended with a bang. More specifically, Patrick Prendergast, a deranged Irish immigrant, assassinated Mayor Harrison at his home. The grand closing ceremonies were scrapped and a memorial service was held instead. The 600-vehicle funeral procession slowly made its way to Graceland Cemetary on the Northside.

Burnham and Olmstead's work in planning the fair helped spur the development of the City Beautiful movement. In later years, Burnham would continue to revolutionize modern urban planning, creating citywide plans for San Francisco, Cleveland, Washington, and of course, Chicago. The 18 miles of the present-day Lakefront Park system and Magnificient Mile on Michigan Avenue are the result of his vision. It is also likely that Walt Disney's Magic Kingdom and L. Frank Baum's world of Oz drew inspiration from their visits to the Columbian Exposition. (Elias Disney, father of Walt, was a construction worker for the White City.)

Ultimately, most of the fair's buildings and works were destroyed, and the land converted back into park space. Only a couple buildings remain in Chicago, and these include the Palace of Fine Arts (now housing the Museum of Industry and Science) and the World's Congress Auxiliary Building (now the Art Institute).

If you have even a passing familiarity with Chicago's geography, you know that the city's Southside is not the safest area to be in. In an ironic twist, the areas surrounding Jackson Park and the Midway Plaisance have fallen far from their heyday as the homes of the rich and wealthy. Chicago is currently vying to host the 2016 Olympics, and much has been made of the opportunity for the games to revitalize the Southside. Perhaps this will be the stimulus we need, but I am inclined to think that like the shining fairgrounds a century before, any changes are likely to be fleeting.

Green House

Some people save up for that BMW convertible. Others splurge on designer clothing...well, I can't wait to completely redesign my kitchen. It'll be ridiculously pimped out, wait and see. I've got my heart set on hanging pots, a stand-alone freezer and magnetic strips for knives, for starters. Then, let's throw in lots of extravagantly cute Alessi products, like their classic bird teapot or this coffeemaker. And I'll finally have space for all those impractical one-use-only kitchen appliances and gadgets. Paella pan, juicer, ice cream maker, egg slicer, creme brulee torch...this is starting to read like my Christmas list.



Viki visited Chicago over the weekend, and had read a magazine article about a new "Fit House" that was recently built in Lincoln Park. Basically, this is part of a series of eco-friendly homes that have been constructed around the country with the help of corporate sponsors, and the Chicago Fit House is the sixth home built. It features local construction materials, triple paned windows, and rooftop gardens. Unfortunately, the house closed for public tours on Sept 2, otherwise we would have gone to check it out. Although, now it's for sale on the market, so I suppose we could call up the agent and pretend to be interested in buying a 4-story, 5400 sq ft home.

Anyway, here's a shot of the kitchen. I am in love with the chalkboard walls. You can post recipes and shopping lists on your walls, or write notes to other people in the family. How awesome is that?



For all the talk of building a green house though, I do think this home is too ostentatious (read: big) for a single-family home. 5,400 sq feet? That is a megaton of space, and it just reeks of American consumerist excess. And the sauna and temperature-controlled wine cellar can't possibly be energy efficient. Don't get me wrong, the house is very nice and I'd love to live there, but it's still a long way from what I'd consider truly green construction practices.