Category Archives: Asia

China Through Its Movies

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The cinema of China has a rich and troubled history that intrigued me even before I studied abroad in Beijing. In the past, most Chinese movies that have made it to the states have been lushly illustrated martial arts numbers (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Hero) or quirky Jackie Chan comedies. However, a number of lesser-known Chinese films have been shown in international film festivals and at arthouse theaters since the 1980s, and they offer much more compelling portrayals of Chinese people and events throughout China’s turbulent modern history.

During my semester abroad, I interned at a Chinese film distribution company and had the opportunity to learn more about Chinese cinema and issues of media censorship. Chinese cinema is often divided into different “generations” chronologically. Many of the extremely diverse films that have been made since the twentieth century have explored and captured the sentiments left by cataclysmic events in China’s history, particularly the Cultural Revolution. Their political overtones have led them to be banned by the Chinese government, even to this day.

Besides meeting locals and exploring hutongs, it’s also entirely possible to learn about China within the comforts of your own bed with a bag of popcorn and some juice. From the thick rich depths of Chinese cinematic history I’ve dredged up a list of Chinese movies that are not only great movies in and of themselves, but also formative films that capture pieces of China’s modern history:

Yellow Earth (1984) was one of the first films made after the Cultural Revolution and is considered the signature piece of the Fifth Generation of filmmakers. It was directed by Chen Kaige, and the cinematography is by Zhang Yimou—both of whom would become prominent filmmakers in their own right. The vast, parched landscape of Shaanxi province is the backdrop for the journey of a Communist soldier through impoverished villages searching for rural folksongs to turn into propaganda for the Communist army.

Farewell My Concubine (1993) is the only Chinese-language film to have won the Cannes Palme d’Or. Directed by Chen Kaige, it explores the relationship between two men in a Peking opera troupe and a woman who comes between them, and how the effects of China’s mid-20th-century political turmoil permeates their lives.

Raise the Red Lantern (1991), directed by Zhang Yimou, is one of the most iconic movies of Chinese cinema. Noted for its opulent visuals and sumptuous photography, it tells the story of a nineteen-year-old girl who becomes the new concubine of a wealthy lord, and the tension and intrigue that arises among her and the lord’s three other wives. The film was interpreted as a metaphor for the fragmented civil society of post-Cultural Revolution China and was banned in China for a time.

The Last Emperor (1987), directed by Bernardo Bertolucci, is a biopic about the life of Puyi, the last emperor of China, from his early royal upbringing to the foundation of the early Chinese Republic, to his exile and eventual return. It won the Academy Award for Best Picture and Best Director in 1987

Unknown Pleasures (2002) is a film about three aimless, disaffected youths growing up in China as part of the new “Birth Control” generation, fed on a steady diet of Western and Chinese popular culture. It is directed by Jia Zhangke, a Sixth Generation filmmaker widely lauded as perhaps “the most important filmmaker working in the world today.”

Being a Woman of Color in Kyoto

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Being a person of color and a woman of color here in Japan is pretty complicated. There have been a lot of instances for me here in Kyoto where I felt uncomfortable because of my race and gender.

There was a time earlier on in the semester when I was walking through the cafeteria one afternoon. A worker whom I didn’t know walked up to me and started petting my hair. My hair is a naturally thick texture, something I don’t think the worker had seen before. She petted it for a while and then said, “It’s very soft. I like it.” When that happened, I forced myself to think that this was a different country. In the USA, I would’ve been up in arms over the racist undertones of a stranger touching and studying my hair.

Still, Japan has a different history. There aren’t a lot of people of color here, so rather than malicious racism, I think that the worker in the cafeteria felt an innocent curiosity. (Which doesn’t change the fact that I felt uncomfortable!)

Throughout the semester, my host family and I have often sat down together to watch TV. Sometimes on TV, a random black man or woman would appear on screen in a commercial. Whenever that happened, my family would say, “It’s your mom!” or, “It’s your dad!” At first, I laughed it off, thinking that they were joking. But after a while, I started to wonder if they were serious. I eventually explained to them that there are a lot of black people in the world, and that I don’t know all of them. There was another moment when my host mother received a call from a young woman in Kenya. They spoke for a while, and after they hung up, my host mother said, “Kenya is in Africa. That means the young woman is black. You’ll be great friends.” I had to ask her if she would be great friends with all of the Japanese people across the world for her to understand why it’s problematic to think that.

Similarly to those examples, I was once in a hair salon in Sendai when I told the hair stylist that I’m from the Caribbean, and he asked me if I was related to Rihanna. I think that because there aren’t many foreigners here, it’s hard for some people to imagine a world where everyone isn’t Japanese.

Yes, race is an issue here. On the other hand, I’ve been having the time of my life. I’ve met a lot of great people and made a lot of great friends. Despite the examples I’ve written about, I’m glad that I came here. I don’t want to deter anyone from studying in Kyoto. I just think it’s better to be prepared for some of the images you might see or some of the things you might hear.

Being Queer in Kyoto

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As a queer person living in Kyoto, I really lucked out. Though I worried constantly about the reaction I would receive from Japanese people, the host family with which KCJS placed me turned out to be very open-minded. Whether they really understand it as much as they claim when I say that I’m queer and gender-queer is open to debate, but I know they respect me and make legitimate attempts to make me feel comfortable in a foreign culture that can, given the opportunity, be stifling for members of the LGBTQIA, call it what you will, community.

My perspective of what it’s like to be queer in Japan is, I admit, a bit skewed, because every time I meet someone new, I have to address the issue as immediately as giving my name, and correcting pronouns, which do not, for some people, seem to align with my body type. However, I will say this: in Japan, much more so than in the US, I can easily pass. I often find Kyoto, a city generally infatuated with traditional Japanese culture, to be rigidly fixed on gender roles and differences; once a person thinks you are a certain gender, they hold you to all of that gender’s expectations. Crossing boundaries seems unheard of. For example, for KCJS’s Community Involvement Project, I volunteer at the Manga Museum; when filing out my paperwork, I circled the kanji for “male (男)” instead of “female (女)”. I explained this to my boss, saying that even if it’s confusing, I’m actually male, and if he could please address me as such, I would be incredibly grateful. He said that he understood, and not five minutes later, told everyone else in the room that they should consider me their daughter.

Things like this easily frustrate and depress me, and I face it constantly in Japan, where even explaining the same thing in clear Japanese several times doesn’t seem to do the trick. However, in my experience it is always better to try to address these issues than not to do so. In the instance of my host family, I told my host mother that I only use a name different (and differently gendered) from my legal name, and that I use male pronouns; in turn, she told me she would be uncomfortable with me using the first-person pronoun “boku,” more often used by males than females, and she almost always calls me “this person” or “that person” rather than using any pronoun at all. At the same time, however, when she talks about me as though we’re related, she calls me her son.

As I said before, however, I’m very lucky to have the host family that I do. Other host families are by far not so accepting or understanding. Other students have related to me stories about varied reactions to the idea of gay friends—name-calling, making assumptions about what a gay person must look or act like, even imitating vomiting at the idea of two men together.

For these reasons, in my opinion, it’s important to explain one’s situation to one’s host family as soon as possible, or even to write it on KCJS’s housing request sheet. Don’t be scared away from living with a host family, as it’s an absolutely essential experience for many first-timers in Japan, but do ensure that you’ll get a host family that isn’t closed-minded.

I don’t mean to make it sound as though Kyoto is all negative things for gender-queer people; in fact, there are amazing benefits, as well. I’m often pleasantly surprised to find that fast food places and sit-down restaurants often have a women’s room and a gender-neutral bathroom, taking off the pressure of figuring out which bathroom it might be safer to use at any given point. For queer people in general, acceptance is on the rise, and while, as my host mother likes to tell me, “being gay is a secret,” I’ve met with far less hostility than in the US, where more people are likely to justify discriminatory beliefs with religion.

In my experience, I’ve found that KCJS also does its best to be supportive. At the beginning of the year, I told Shore-san that I don’t use my legal name, and within a few days, my name had been changed on both my mailbox and my locker. My monthly allowance also comes with my preferred name, and these things combined make me feel as though I can be who I really am at KCJS.

To any other queer and/or gender-queer individuals considering studying abroad in Kyoto, I definitely recommend KCJS. The sensei are accepting, and if you have any concerns, they’re always willing to listen. As for Kyoto in general, there will be bumps along the road, and issues that you might not expect, but equally surprising benefits. Just remember that everyone’s experiences are different, and everyone’s only human.

Keeping Kosher

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As a Shomer Shabbat / Kashrut Orthodox Jewish individual at Columbia University, I was able to study abroad in Japan without compromising on any of my observance. That being said, it was not easy and the decision to Study Abroad in Japan should be made after careful consideration. Here are some of the problems I anticipated, and how I prepared for them.

1] Kashrut: As you might imagine, there is NO kosher food available in Japan except the few items one can find at large supermarkets and International Stores. However, if you are comfortable with the prospect of making all of your food from scratch, eating is not that difficult. I spoke with my Rabbi before I left who told me that some foods, such as tofu and soy sauce, could be purchased without a hekshur (Kashrut certification). Anyone interested in observing Kashrut in Japan should have a similar conversation to determine what they are comfortable eating without a hekshur. Additionally, fresh fruits, vegetables and fish are available at any local supermarket, and cheap kitchen supplies are available for purchase. Besides actually keeping kosher, someone interested in keeping kosher while studying in Japan should understand that observing Kashrut means living in a dorm or an apartment. It would be unspeakably rude to your host if you arrived and told them that you would not eat the same food as the rest of the family. In Japan, eating different food from that which is served is rude even under normal circumstances.

2] Shabbat: This is easy because observing Shabbat is simply not doing things.  However, one should make certain that one’s program does not have requirements on Friday afternoon or Shabbat. For example, my program offered trips many Saturday’s in which I was not able to participate. If observing Shabbat is important to you keep potential conflicts in mind, but remember than many programs are willing to make exceptions and accommodations for religious observance.

3] Holidays: I always went to the Chabad in Tokyo (Rabbi Sudakevitch http://www.chabad.jp/). It was really not very difficult for me to make the trip or prepare for the holidays, though one should know that Rabbi Sudakevitch responds better to phone calls than e-mail. I was even able to build a Sukka at my dormitory during Sukkot much to the bewilderment of the locals (though other locations might be more reluctant to give permission to build a Sukka).

4] Jewish Community: There are three Jewish communities in Japan. A Sephardic community in Kobe, and the JCC and Chabad in Tokyo. Unfortunately, due to my limited time in Japan and my location in Nagoya, I was only able to experience the Chabad community, however, I have heard positive reviews of the other communities, especially that in Kobe. Unless you are located near one of the communities, you should not expect to be able to travel to one of these centers frequently. I went to Tokyo for all of the holidays at a price of about $200 round trip. Obviously, I was not able to make the trip on a regular basis. However, that does not mean that Shabbat was not meaningful at my dormitory.

Every week I prepared a Shabbat dinner and invited all of my friends, both Jewish and non-Jewish. And every meal, except one, I had a small group with whom to share Shabbat dinner. However, there were times when it was difficult to convince people to join me. Jewish or not, for most study abroad students in Japan, there are more interesting places to be on a Friday night than a Shabbat dinner. My point is that one interested in spending a significant amount of time in Japan, while observing Jewish customs and law, should be prepared for some level of cultural isolation and cultural shock. Of course, I feel my time in Japan was worth every moment and one of the most formative experiences I have ever had.