Gion Matsuri…Why?

It’s Gion Matsuri time in Kyoto. There is no doubt that this is worth attending despite the heat and crowds. There is simply nothing like it. And I’m very grateful I had the opportunity so many years ago to soak it all up.


And soaking it up is exactly what I did. I never took a single shashin (didn’t even own a camera back then… gasp). It makes me wonder whether people are experiencing it now or photographing it.
I love looking at the photos of Gion Matsuri and watching videos. But I wonder how it is for the person behind the camera. How does filming it impact their own experience?
Another thing I wonder about is the commercialization. Some of it is traditional, some of it is promotional, and a lot of it is just plain old fun. For example, a Chinese restaurant has a shimidare nikuman for just three days. You can only get it at that time. Are there lines out the door for them? You bet!

How about the people of Kyoto? Are they avoiding it? Are they enjoying it? I’m sure there are both types of Kyotoites though I think that after a few years of COVID, they are happy to be free to celebrate without fear, albeit wearing a masuku… still… for many of them. But there are those Japanese who attend with a specific purpose.

If you have a gakusei at home and they have an important entrance exam coming up, you may want to visit the Hakurakutenyama [float] and purchase one of their souvenirs. In fact, I recently read about a family that simply purchases a pair of 500 yen chopsticks at this season and then the student uses them everyday until the day of their exam. It is meant to bring academic success.

Now, that’s personal. Maybe that’s just as Gion Matsuri should be—at least for the locals.

  • shashin – 写真 -photograph(s)
  • shimidare nikuman – しみだれ 豚まん A kind of dumpling literally called a stained dumpling. The stain is soy sauce. In this case it is a speciality of a certain Chinese restaurant and is only served a few days a year.
  • masuku – マスク mask, a face mask. Ubiquitous in Japan even before COVID.
  • gakusei – 学生 student
  • Hakurakutenyama – 白楽天山 That’s a mouthful, isn’t it! It’s one of the floats of the Gion Festival. Read more here.
A short clip I took at an exhibit at The Kanji Museum in Kyoto.

What?!?

The seventies in Kyoto were special. And I know there is a tendency to romanticize them now, but hey folks, it wasn’t all good. I have no lost love for non-flush toilets and rooms with no heat or AC. And… we didn’t know very much.

Imagine coming to live in Kyoto with maybe a little nihongo speaking ability, but certainly zero or a very low reading ability. That left a lot of us lost. We had to rely on eigo sources. But, remember, this is before the internet. So what was there?

For me, there were just three sources of jōhō available in English. The first was The Japan Times. This English shinbun was about ten pages long and a far cry from American newspapers, I thought. But that wasn’t the entire problem. It was very expensive for a poor student. I’d have to get on my bicycle and go into town to get a copy. It was sold in the lobby at both the Kyoto Hotel and the Royal Hotel. I metta ni indulged. However, both hotels also had nice clean Western bathrooms off the lobby. When my mother visited me, we’d make regular stops there since she wasn’t a fan of my squat toilet.

Another source of English information was the Kyoto Tourist Bureau. They had a few publications and would answer questions. But it was located across the street from Kyoto Station and I rarely headed down that way. Also, I wasn’t a kankōkyaku and it was slightly embarrassing to go in there and collect pamphlets that would tell me how to use a Japanese toilet, ohashi etc.

There was one more source of English information. The Armed Forces radio station didn’t come through very clearly on my cheap rajio, but I sometimes caught the news or some music if the air waves were right.

So, one day, I was cleaning my room and I put the radio on to see if I could catch the Armed Forces radio. I did and the DJ was a talkative one. I don’t remember what song he was playing, but he said “… and the late John Lennon.”

WHAT?!? John Lennon was dead? How could I not know such an important thing? When had he died? Why didn’t I know? How could he be dead without me knowing it? I was shocked.

Can you imagine not knowing something like that today? You’d have to be totally off the grid, so I guess it is possible, but the shokku was great and it still remains as a strong memory of the isolation that I didn’t fully realize I was experiencing until that moment. And, by the way, this is why I was compelled to learn to read in Japanese.

  • nihongo – 日本語 the Japanese language
  • eigo – 英語 English (language)
  • jōhō – 情報 information
  • shinbun – 新聞 newspaper
  • metta ni – 滅多に rarely
  • kankōkyaku – 観光客 tourist(s)
  • ohashi – お箸 chopsticks. Note the honorific “o” here as well.
  • rajio – ラジオ radio
  • shokku – ショック shock(s), surprise

Don’t eat cucumbers in July

Now why on earth would I say that? And to be clear, the rule only applies if you live in Kyoto and if you’re a true down-to-the-bone Kyotoite. And I wonder if today’s wakamono even know about this.

If you go to Nishiki Market now, you’ll see kyūri being sold on a stick as a snack. How refreshing and nice for a hot day, right? Even in jūichigatsu, my daughter enjoyed her cucumber greatly.

The problem with the cucumber, it seems, is the katachi that you see when you slice it. Apparently it resembles the crest of Yasaka Shrine. So, just as one might fast on Yom Kippur, or give up something for Lent, the people of Kyoto give up cucumbers for the month of July so that Gion Festival will come off successfully. Or, at least that’s one theory.

Any other green vegetable is fine….

On another note, one hot summer in August I was visiting my in-laws and my giri no okāsan and I were preparing lunch. An old uncle came into the daidokoro and got alarmed to see the sōmen.

Hosonagai no wa dame desu…” he said. His wife was very thin and ailing and giving her a very thin noodle would be bad luck.

One more. When I had my daughter in 1984 we were told at the hospital to eat white food to bring in our milk. But there’s a basis for this. The ideal white food would be omochi. Back in the day when food was scarce, mochi was a good way to get some nutrition, i.e. karorī. In fact, that’s why to this day, a bowl of udon with mochi in it is called Chikara Udon!

  • wakamono – 若者 young people
  • kyūri – きゅうり cucumber
  • jūichigatsu – 十一月 November
  • katachi – 形 shape, appearance
  • giri no okāsan – 義理のお母さん mother-in-law
  • daidokoro – 台所 kitchen
  • Hosonagai no wa dame desu – 細長いのは駄目です。”No long and thin foods, please.” My uncle considered this to be bad luck because the noodles could easily break, as could his wife’s health.
  • omochi – お餅 We know what this is, right?
  • karorī – カロリー calories or calorie
  • Chikara Udon -力うどん a type of udon that usually has a piece or two or mochi in it.

Fat in Japan

So, here’s the thing. I was never fat in Japan. Each time I disembark from the hikōki after landing in Japan, it is like my karada says, “Oh, we’re in Japan. Let’s immediately lose ten pounds or more.”

It might be a body memory thing due to my first trip to Japan where I became ill with natsubate and ended up in the hospital unable to eat. And then there were all the unfamiliar foods that took awhile to like. (Luckily I did know how to use ohashi, so that wasn’t the issue.)

I do hate to exercise and only once in Japan did I join a class for that purpose. It was a jazz exercise class. We’d go out to lunch afterwards and virtuously eat sarada. And feel really really hungry. So, that didn’t last.

But what did last was the lifestyle. Here are some examples:

  1. In Japan I had a washing machine, but no kansōki. That meant hanging the clothes out to dry as opposed to shifting them into a dryer.
  2. The futon we slept on also had to be regularly carted over to the window and hung out in the sun to air. They also had to be beaten with a futontataki and flipped over and beaten again. This as opposed to either making a bed or … not.
  3. I didn’t have a kuruma in Japan. This covers a LOT, including grocery shopping by bicycle and looping the bags over the handlebars to cycle home. It also covers taking my kids on the jitensha to cart them anywhere we were going and daily trips to daycare.
  4. In Tokyo there were the subways that could be way down deep underground. Esukareetaa? Who had the time and they weren’t a given.
  5. Sightseeing. Obviously Japan is charming and hilltop temples and shrines especially so. If the old grannies were climbing, so were we.
This is the tool we used to beat the futon. And when you lived in an apartment building you wanted to be sure to get your futon outside early in the morning to appear more virtuous than your neighbors.

So even though I never watched what I ate, I was always slimmer in Japan. However, it is the curse of the gaijin woman to never feel that way next to the lithe Japanese women. But that’s a whole other story.

  • hikōki 飛行機 – airplane
  • karada 体 – body
  • natsubate 夏バテ – A special word used to describe suffering in the summer due to the oppressive heat. When you get natsubate you don’t feel like eating and you can quickly succumb to the heat. Natsu means summer and the bate comes from the verb bateru which means to be exhausted.
  • ohashi お箸 – chopsticks
  • sarada サラダ – salad
  • kansōki 乾燥機 – clothes dryer
  • futon 布団 – not a sofa. REAL Traditional Japanese futon are mats that you sleep on. You put them down at night on a tatami surface and then fold them up in the daytime.
  • futontataki 布団叩き – the tool that you use to beat the futon when you are airing them out. You can see puffs of dust arise when you do this. Necessary? Not sure. Traditional? Hell, yes.
  • kuruma 車 – automobile
  • jitensha 自転車 – bicycle
  • Esukareetaa – エスカレーター – escalator
  • gaijin 外人 – foreigner. This is the short form of gaikokujin. Some foreigners take offense at being called this and would prefer the longer and more polite form. Your mileage may vary.

Pink Blues

I have a confession to make. My facebook feed is filled with beautiful and glorious photos of cherry blossoms. Quite early this year thanks to climate change. But quite honestly, I have never been a great fan of sakura. I know, I know. It’s practically a harenchi to say something like that.

My favorite blossoms are the plum blossoms that normally bloom in nigatsu in Kyoto. They have a slight fragrance that is simply wonderful. And their shape is more pleasing to me. In my own neighborhood here in Massachusetts, I’m surrounded by apple trees. They traditionally bloom around Mother’s Day and are lovely.

When I lived in Tokyo, I lived along one of the nicer greenways that featured a line of sakura. And, yes, they were pretty when they bloomed, but when they fell to the ground they were slippery in the rain and just looked ugly. Though there are many shades of pink, to me most sakura simply look washed out and unattractive.

Then there are all the yopparai on the trains as they return from partying beneath the blossoms.

And the sakura seem to herald the beginning of arerugi season.

Flowers I like:

Those are the ones that come to mind this morning!

  • sakura – 桜 – cherry blossoms
  • harenchi – 破廉恥 – a disgrace
  • nigatsu – 二月 February
  • yopparai – 酔っ払い – drunkard
  • arerugī – アレルギー allergy. This is a hard one to say!
  • kakitsubata – 杜若 – iris
  • jinchōge – 沈丁花 – winter daphne. They smell like SweetTarts!
  • ajisai – 紫陽花 – hydrangea. They are an in-your-face type of flower, but the colors….!
  • fuji – 藤 -wisteria. So elegant!

The Baby on the Bus

The one thing you have to get used to if you live in a Japanese city is the hordes of people. That’s no different from any city in America, but you tend to feel it more in Nihon because it is likely that you use public transportation more than your own kuruma. There are a few reasons for this.

First of all, Japan does public transportation really well. Densha and buses are dependable, clean, and benri. Of course they are faster than driving in most cases and you don’t have to work to find a parking place. I don’t know if it is true, but I have heard that to buy a car in Japan you have to prove you have somewhere to park it. I never had a car in Japan and never felt I needed one. A bicycle and public transportation covered all of my needs.

The best way to travel with a child in Japan!

But when you have kodomo, you have different issues. Try taking a baby on a train. If you’re lucky, they are lulled to sleep. But if you are unlucky, they are going to bawl their eyes out in distress. And then all eyes turn to see what’s going on. Here’s what happens next:

It becomes a project and everyone gets involved. The obāsan sitting next to you jangles a key ring to distract the baby and if the baby reaches for it, she’ll let the baby grab it and hold it. The slightly older mother across the aisle will open her bag and reach into it for a small omocha and offer that up. The grandmother sitting two seats down pulls out some plain cookies and offers the baby those. The teenage boys standing up near you make funny faces to amuse the baby. And the older men do bero bero bah — the Japanese version of peekaboo or any antic done to amuse a baby.

Everyone’s been there. Right?

Recently I read in the news that people sitting in the airline’s first class think that babies should not be allowed to sit there. They pay extra for the luxury and listening to a crying baby disturbs them. Sekkaku okane o dashita noni! You can just imagine the indigence.

You can also imagine what I think of that. They are missing a chance to make a connection and be of help. Too bad for them.

Once I’d experienced the treatment of a baby on a bus in Japan, I began to carry small toys in my own bag and look for opportunities to give them to mothers with a fussy child. When I took a flight a few years ago, a mother with a toddler sat down next to me in the middle seat. I offered to hold the little girl while she settled herself. I am a nervous flyer and having a toddler on my lap diverted my fuan. She ended up having fun looking out the mado and then eventually fell asleep on my lap. I told the mom that I was a grandmother and this was a joy for me. We all had a very good flight!

  • Nihon – 日本 Japan
  • kuruma – 車 car, automobile
  • Densha – 電車 train
  • benri – 便利 convenient
  • kodomo – 子供 child
  • obāsan – おばあさん grandmother
  • omocha – おもちゃ toy. Be careful not to confuse with matcha! And yes, somehow toy takes the honorific ‘o’
  • Sekkaku okane o dashita noni -せっかくお金を出したのに Literally, “Even though I went to great pains to pay for this.” Sekkaku is a good word to know. You could say, “Sekkaku benkyō shimashita noni, I flunked the test. Get it? (Even though I went to great pains to study, I flunked the test.” It’s a good word for when you want to bitch about something.
  • bero bero bah – ベロベロバー Used like peekaboo with a baby. You say it and then make a funny face perhaps.
  • fuan – 不安 uneasiness, worry
  • mado – 窓 window

Disco Fever

It’s possible that you don’t think of me as any kind of disco dancer. And you’d mostly be right. I’m pretty sure I never went to a disco in the United States. But… when in Japan you end up doing all kinds of things that you might never do in your bokoku. Of course this is mostly because you’re in a atarashii country which has new things to do, places to visit, foods to try etc. But just as my first lesson at Japanese cooking school involved (surprisingly) hamburgers, there was a time in my life that involved a disco. Both the hamburger and the disco were Japanese takes on Western stuff.

For those of you who know Kyoto, would you believe me if I said there had been a disco in Pontochō? Pontochō is that lovely little lane downtown that houses the kind of restaurants and exclusive bars that we think geisha and maiko frequent. Some places require an introduction and if you need to look at nedan, you’re in the wrong area of town.

Yet, in the late 1970’s there was indeed a disco not-so-hidden in a lower level of a Pontochō establishment. It was called Samantha. Or, in Japanese Samansa. They had a large collection of soul music and their focus was on Black musicians. It was a quirky kind of place but it did indeed have a small dance floor.. A friend of mine found it and we became jōrenkyaku there. Most of the time it was filled with single men. It was the first time I ever saw people dancing without partners. It was freeing. Lucy and I would often get out on the floor and dance with abandon.

An old photo of Samansa

I have no idea what the cover charge was because we never paid. In fact, we rarely paid when we went out in the evening. Even a raggedly hippie girl like me was enough of a bonus for any shop that they’d welcome us with open arms, and men would ply us with nomimono with few expectations. We were mezurashii and we soaked it all up. We were young and just loving it. Of course now we know that what we experienced was white privilege. But at the time we didn’t think twice about it. The scarcity of young foreign women worked in our favor. Looking back on this I feel like we definitely took advantage, but this was also a prosperous time in Japan and –okay, I should stop making kōjitsu. We had a blast.

I have no idea what happened to Samansa and how long it lasted. I moved to Tokyo while it was still popular and in Tokyo I’d sometimes find myself in the discos of Roppongi which were notorious in the 1980s. While there were many more gaikokujin in Tokyo, including military and rich expats, I still don’t remember ever paying to get into a disco. Privilege…. and I bet cute models are still reaping those benefits.

  • bokoku – 母国 mother country
  • atarashii – 新しい new
  • geisha – 芸者 Honestly, if you don’t know what a geisha is, why are you even reading this?
  • maiko – 舞妓 apprentice geisha and you.should.know.this.
  • nedan – 値段 price
  • jōrenkyaku – 常連客 regular customer. When you live in Japan you want a few places where they know you. It helps you feel at home there.
  • nomimono – 飲み物 drink. At a bar it usually refers to alcohol of course, but it includes any kind of drink and is used broadly.
  • mezurashii – 珍しい rare, unusual
  • kōjitsu – 口実 excuse
  • gaikokujin – 外国人 foreigner

Kōenji

Oh lordy. My old neighborhood is now a hipster place. It’s turning up on lists of cool neighborhoods or hidden gems or ”places to discover.”

I moved to Kōenji in 1983. I would take the Chuo Line from Shinjuku Station and it took about fifteen minutes. You’d get off the train and have a choice between the minami and kita exits. Mine was the south exit. From there I’d walk ten minutes or so through an old shōtengai. I loved that walk. It’s worth saying that the shōtengai extended all the way to a subway station of the same name. And there was another shōtengai on the north side. If you like shōtengai, you were all set.

As I would walk home, I’d see a futon store to my right where I’d often browse looking for new covers for my zabuton. Next to that store and on the second floor was a restaurant that served fried rice with an ebi furai on top of it and a dab of curry. It’s a great combination that I’ve rarely seen elsewhere.

I was surprised to find a photo of my old apartment building on the internet. Though it looks nice from the outside, it was dark and damp inside.

On the right side I’d pass a few pharmacies and small grocers. Eventually I’d pass a kōen on the right that was featured in the novel 1Q84 by Murakami Haruki. It’s always a quiet thrill when you unexpectedly encounter a place you know in a shōsetsu.

From there, things got seedier. Kōenji, for some reason, was where many bar hostesses and other creatures of the night chose to live. There were a few jazz coffee shops, and some good oden spots. But what really proved to me that this was indeed the home of the tattered butterflies of the night was the public bath. And it was simple. Unlike any other public bath I’d been to, this one stayed open until 1 AM. Every other bath I’d ever been to—be it in Kyoto or Tokyo—closed at 11 PM.

I’d sometimes go right before closing and join the raucous group of women hanging out there. I never really chatted with them. I usually came with the guy I’d end up marrying and I didn’t linger or try to make friends. We’d meet outside after bathing on our respective sides of the bath and then go eat some oden.

Checking the internet now, I see that our bath had been around since 1929! I’m very happy to see it is still open and still open until 1 AM. I guess there are still some things that do not change!

  • minami – 南 south
  • kita – 北 north
  • shōtengai – 商店街 shopping street
  • zabuton – 座布団 floor cushion
  • ebi furai – エビフライ fried shrimp
  • kōen – 公園 park (the kind children play at)
  • shōsetsu – 小説 novel
  • oden – おでん a type of food that is sold by street venders and in bars (it practically cries out for beer) and now in 7-11 and other stores. It has an unmistakable smell to it due to the fish products it uses. A lot of non-Japanese fail to see the charm of it. But in the winter, before many homes had heat, it was a great way to warm up before returning to a stone cold room.

A Consultation

In America as well as Japan someone might idly ask you, “So, what are you cooking for dinner tonight?” I often ask this of my own musume, curious to know what she’s feeding my beloved mago and also curious to know what local foods she might be eating. In Japan, my neighbors often answered with “Reizōko to sōdan shimasu.”

Exactly like my first fridge!

I get the meaning, but it still makes me smile. You could translate that literally as “I will have a consultation with my refrigerator.” This is especially meaningful at the end of the month before a gekkyū rolls in. And it also is a good way to ensure that you don’t end up with rotting vegetables or oniku past its prime.

I think there are two ways to grocery shop. In America, where people shop less frequently than in Japan, my friends often make up a menu plan for the week and then buy based on what is needed to prepare these dishes. I’ve tried doing that, but I cannot. I also can’t shop just once a week, or heaven forbid, once every two weeks.

When I was living in Japan most people shopped for food daily or once every couple of days. Many women my age still do it that way. Food shops are conveniently located near train stations so you could come home from work or school and buy what you needed for yūhan on the way home. My homestay mother went to the same local shōtengai daily to shop. Why? Why daily?

One reason is that Japanese homes are small and thus storage, be it reizōko or pantry is very limited. Think of the kind of refrigerator that you might find in a dorm room. Now they sell bigger ones, but they are still narrow and are simply taller. But I believe many women are still shopping daily or three times or more a week. This is because you want to see what is shinsen, what is in season, what is on sale and what simply looks good. In theory one should always be eating with the seasons and that is reflected in both food and tableware. It’s a lovely way to cook and eat. There’s not a Japanese alive who couldn’t tell you what month bamboo is in season and what fish is eaten in the autumn. The closest we have to any of this would be a pumpkin spice latte. (I cringe.)

It’s the end of the month today and I did indeed consult with my refrigerator. Plenty of carrots, so I pulled some chikuwa from the freezer and made a stir-fry with soy sauce and sugar. What else? Oh, this is embarrassing. But I had some sad looking broccoli and a lot of celery. A knob of ginger appeared and I always have miso.

So I cut the celery into small pieces, zapped the broccoli, and sautéd both vegetables with the ginger in sesame oil, adding miso and mirin to make a sauce. Not bad! But I now have two very rich dishes so I’ll add rice (already cooking in my suihanki) and daikon pickles—and cut up some fruit to eat along with it. Oshimai!

There’s enough left over for tomorrow at which point I’ll cook up a dashimaki to go along with it.

And…it would not be at all out of character to see me thanking my refrigerator for this gochisō!

  • musume – 娘 daughter
  • mago – 孫 grandchild
  • reizōko – 冷蔵庫 refrigerator
  • to – と particle and or with
  • sōdan shimasu – 相談します to consult or to confer with, adding shimasu makes it a verb
  • gekkyū – 月給 monthly salary
  • oniku – お肉 meat
  • yūhan -夕飯 dinner. You can also call dinner bangohan. Maybe this is like supper and dinner?
  • shōtengai – 商店街 shopping street
  • shinsen – 新鮮 fresh
  • chikuwa – 竹輪. a tube shaped fish paste product. It’s cheap and easily found in Japan. And it tastes better than it sounds. Unfortunately, in America I can only get a frozen version.
  • suihanki – 炊飯器 rice cooker
  • Oshimai – お仕舞い Finished! Done! You could also use it to say “I call time.”
  • dashimaki – だし巻き a Japanese rolled omelette made with dashi.
  • gochisō -ごちそう a feast. Used to praise food not just for a real feast.

You’ll Never Find It

I’m a big fan of SMS and the internet. The ability to make connections, quickly find jōhō and verify old memories is invaluable to me. Thank you, world, for inventing such a great tool. I use it daily.

This isn’t it. But it might look like this. Just less fancy, though!

There’s a little resutoran near the Heian Shrine in Kyoto. Let’s call it S Restaurant. It’s an old style eatery that serves a setto breakfast and a wide variety of ippin ryōri during the day. You never know what you might find, be it a dish of Japanese poteto sarada, kitsune soba, hamburger with catsup spaghetti or ebi furai. It’s that type of restaurant that puts dishes out on a table or shelf and you can choose what you want on top of what you order. Nothing “extra” here. Plain old good food, but nothing gourmet, mind you.

S Restaurant does not have a website. It doesn’t have a facebook page or Instagram. It does have a denwa bango, but they don’t take reservations. It’s a neighborhood kind of place despite being near one of the top sightseeing spots.

You can’t pay with a credit card or your phone or any other way other than genkin. There’s no parking lot. Children are welcome, though. But it is what is known as a taishū shokudo. There used to be many of these in Kyoto, very similar to the cheap dives that catered to students—students who are now frequenting cafes and Starbucks.

So, how are you going to find S Restaurant? First off, you won’t find anything written in English about it (I checked). If you don’t speak or read Japanese and you walk by it, trust me, there’s no welcome sign for you. You have to do the work; learn the language.

Thanks to the internet, now anybody can become a Japan tsū. If you can’t read Japanese, presto… use Google translate and years of Japanese study become unnecessary. We live in the era of short cuts, instant gratification and instant expertise.

In 2016 I was astonished to see the multilingual signage in Kyoto. No more wondering about the history of a jinja or a street name’s pronunciation. Easy peasy. A wonderful boon to tourists. But for serious students of Japanese perhaps it might make them lazy since everything is done for them. I hope I’m wrong. Surely they are still huddled under their kotatsu memorizing kanji for hours upon hours. No?

So, I still think it is worth taking the time and making the effort to learn the language if you really want to know Japan. Or as they say, it’s not the destination, but the journey to get there. But hey, I’m just a grumpy old lady! Meanwhile, S Restaurant continues much the way it always has, hopefully never to be found in an article entitled “Top Ten Quaint Eateries of Kyoto.”

  • jōhō – 情報 information
  • resutoran – レストラン restaurant
  • setto – セット set, as in set menu
  • ippin ryōri - 一品料理  à la carte items
  • poteto sarada – ポテトサラダ potato salad (the Japanese version of the Western version of it)
  • kitsune soba – 狐そば a kind of soba dish with seasoned deep-fried tofu. One of the cheapest items on a menu.
  • ebi furai – エビフライ fried shrimp
  • denwa bango – 電話番号 telephone number. Literally telephone + number
  • genkin – 現金 cash
  • taishū shokudo - 大衆食堂  literally a “restaurant for the masses.” It describes the type of eatery that is simple, cheap, filling, unpretentious, and with no surprises. They seem to be few and far between these days.
  • tsū – 通 an expert or connoisseur. Often used as a suffix to indicate a subject one has expertise in.
  • jinja – 神社 Shinto shrine
  • kotatsu – 炬燵 a low table combined with a special futon that is used as a heating device