Ueno Park (Tokyo) - sensory overload

My apologies. There are no pictures included, it's a descriptive post and pretty long one, too (taken from my travel journal). If you've got ten free minutes and an interest in Tokyo, please take a read.

I sit uncomfortably upon a cold hard concrete step, flanked to my left by a young family. The two young sons slurp feverishly at orange ice-sticks as their mother waits patiently armed with what looks like a KFC refresher towel. To my right, a young couple, possibly in their late 20’s huddle together, not in warmth but affection. The late September sun struggles to generate sufficient warmth as the early evening chill closes in. I sit in silence, pensively observing the antics and movements of thousands enjoying Tokyo’s most active park, Ueno Park.

I’ve chosen a prime vantage point; adjacent the large fountain at the park’s main junction. Tomorrow is the Autumnal Equinox public holiday, so today citizens of Tokyo and tourists flock to the park en-masse. Unsure of my seating position and with lower-back pain imminent, I stand and re-position myself upon the metal railing. Now basking in the sun’s rays, I take my pad and pen in readiness for a possible literary onslaught. Following a momentary mental block, I decide to allow my senses to write for me.

My sunglass-covered eyes quickly inspect the surroundings and park-goers. My first discovery is the concrete and the shoes walking across it. Footwear of all sizes, styles and colors are worn by people of various races, heights and frames.

Tomorrow’s holiday brings many families to the park. I see prams being pushed by parents, siblings, grandparents and even toddlers. The faces of children sparkle with happiness and excitement as they chart new surroundings and chase butterflies, pigeons and even the park’s stray cats. I hear the laughter and squeals of older children playing in a small playground while parents stand at arms-length, cautiously watching over proceedings. Instantly my mind returns to Melbourne, my childhood summers spent playing in parks or on beaches around the city. I recall the fun, the mishaps, the fights, the bumps and bruises I shared with my sisters and friends. How lucky Australian children are - graced with endless personal space and greenery!

Suddenly, the sweet strumming of a guitar forces my attention back to the junction. Next to me, a young man cuts his favorite tune, his fingers voraciously attacking the six strings. Unperturbed, even spurred on by this melodic noise, I continue to focus. Turning to examine the surroundings behind me, I observe hiding in the distance the Tokyo National Museum. A majestic building, it stands proudly behind two large elk, like a child behind its mother’s legs. People enter frequently, just like at a Tokyo subway station.

Turning back around, my focus returns to the junction, my eyes spanning once more its width. My eyes locate a sign post, a stop and think point for tourists and locals alike. Many paths lead through the park to shrines, museums and other various attractions. Such varied entertainment options bring people of all persuasions; art lovers, families bringing their children to the farmyard exhibit at Ueno Zoo, science buffs visiting the National Science Museum, and foreigners hoping to experience the architectural beauty and simplicity of a historic Shinto shrine first hand.

Suddenly another sense springs into action. The sun fades behind the tall trees, the sky, however, still blue and clear. I move again into the sun’s warmth, instantly lessening my goose bumps. The wind rustles the trees’ leaves, although I’m unsure of their botanical name. Soon the park will unleash a new beauty. The leaves will alter color (colour), then fall to the ground during autumn.

A Red Cross bus parks just a stone throw away. A steady flow of people seeking information from volunteers move to and from the bus. Many step inside, possibly to donate blood, a most valuable community service. Putting my poor Japanese reading skills to the test, I attempt to decipher the signage. It reads (I think) – Please donate blood (400 ml) today, you never know when you may need it. The donors re-emerge pale-faced and woozy as expected. I consider volunteering but decide against it. Another day perhaps.

Then there’s the fluttering of birds’ wings. Hundreds of pigeons, feeding frantically on popcorn and breadcrumbs. High-pitched screams can be heard of excited children feeding and chasing the birds all over the junction, completely oblivious to others walking nearby. I recall Trafalgar Square in London and Piazza San Marco in Venice, other examples of bird-feeding extravaganzas. I watch the children closely, most for whom the concept of fear doesn’t exist. Even when the birds climb atop their shoulders, they laugh and yell happily, in contrast to their older minders or family members who appear frightened by the pigeons.

Now standing on my half-asleep legs, I stretch and then walk toward the National Museum. Looking back on the junction I feel the same sense of peace and tranquility that today’s visitors must also be feeling, that is escaping the concrete jungle and relaxing briefly in the Tokyo sunshine at a vibrant location. Before returning to my original seat I stroll across to the baseball diamond. There, a middle-aged coach takes fielding drills with a group of youngsters aged between five and seven. I’m truly astounded by their level of enthusiasm, repeating the drills countless times while chanting continuously.

Two more things stand out. First, the number of people riding bikes or running is refreshing. I am glad that the exercise regime is still booming in Japan. I know such culture exists in Australia, however, statistics don’t lie – there are still too many inactive people who’d rather drive sixty seconds than take a five-minute walk. If we ignore the obvious physiological differences between Caucasian-rich populations and those in Asia, it seems clear that Japanese are healthier and far more interested in their appearance and health than Australians.

Secondly, a man with a battery-operated replica motorbike fascinates passers-by. Grasping the remote control, he maneuvers the toy between the swelling audiences. In a land of technology it was fun to watch people viewing a product that was so popular in the 80’s so intensively. Obviously many had forgotten what they looked like or were remembering the hours of enjoyment they themselves had experienced.

Senses still attune to the sights and sounds around me as time ticks by slowly, I can’t help but notice a feeling of togetherness. Hand holding, snuggling next to a loved one, father’s carrying little children exhausted from the day’s activities, couples young and old walking arms locked. This surprises me somewhat; it is one of the few times I have witnessed large-scale displays of public affection in Japan. A previous journey to Rome, Florence and Venice springs to mind, where public affection can be seen daily from couples of all ages, at times a little too saucy. I appreciate this other side of contemporary Japanese, often categorized as lacking or shying away from physical contact with others. Not so today.

Unfortunately the fading sun and hunger pains deep from within my stomach have cut short this visit. A final loop of the junction and I see thousands making their way for JR’s Ueno Station near the National Science Museum. And again it strikes me - the amazing collections of Japan’s sublime fashion culture.

However that, fellow Steemians, is a tale for another day …………, and I can assure you, that post will include an array of pictures, as only images can do Tokyo and Japan's fashion culture justice.

Have a great day.