I have started using Twitter again. I gave up on my last account because I wasn’t using it much, but having switched to a smartphone (and very smart they are too!) I figured it may become more useful. The recent earthquake in the Tohoku region has also encouraged me to make use of Twitter as it seems a good way to let people know that I’m safe in this quake-prone land.

You can find me on Twitter here: http://twitter.com/#!/eleanoracr I plan on “tweeting” in both English and Japanese.

In addition, whilst I’m on the subject of SNS, if you are a Mixi user, you can also find me here: http://mixi.jp/show_profile.pl?id=3936686

On LinkedIn I’m here:

http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=10430287

And on Academia I’m here:

http://kobe-wu.academia.edu/EleanorRobinson

With globalisation (or, globalization, take your pick) becoming evermore relevant to our world, the social networking sites have become an indispensable element for bringing us all together, so I look forward to connecting with you!

All the best,

Eleanor@you don’t have to be religious to say a prayer for Japan

It’s been some time since I wrote a blog having moved to another post, but before I digress further let me tell you about a new publication.

Britain & Japan Biographical Portraits, Volume VII, compiled and edited by Hugh Cortazzi (Global Oriental, 2010).

This, the seventh book in the series, has chapters on many characters who have played a role in Anglo-Japanese Relations. This particular tome includes chapters on Nakai Hiromu’s good friend Inoue Kaoru (written by Andrew Cobbing) and one of Josiah Conder’s (of Rokumeikan fame) students Tatsuno Kingo (written by Ian Ruxton) as well as British diplomat Francis O. Adams (written by Hugh Cortazzi) along with a plethora of other interesting and key persons.

It had long been a dream of mine to get a chapter on Nakai Hiromu in this excellent series and finally that dream has come true!

More about the publication can be seen here.

I intend to write a fuller review in the near future, but for the time being, I would just like to get word out about the book. You can purchase a copy via Amazon.co.jp of course, as well as other online bookstores.

The author, Mr. Yashiki, came to Kyoto last weekend. I arranged to meet him at the Ryoma bar in Kiyamachi in order to express my congratulations on his publication. He was accompanied by several other members of the Yokoyama/Nakai clan. What a great honour it was for me to meet them all! History is really brought to life on such occassions. Nakai Hiromu is not just some old character from the history books. He was a real, living and breathing person, and meeting his descendents really reminded me of the fact.

Watch this space for my review of Mr. Yashiki’s book in future!

Having been a member of the administrative team for the Global MBA (GMBA) for the past year, my perspectives are naturally from an administrative point of view rather than an academic one. However, this in itself has been a useful exercise in getting to see the workings of a Japanese University at a structural level. My one word for this experience is “interesting”.

As the key initial programme geared toward globalization at Doshisha University, the Global MBA has been the leading force in the university’s successful bid for the Global 30 initiative.  Before coming to work full-time at Doshisha in May last year, since September 2008 I had been coming once a week to help out translating information from Japanese into English for the  GMBA website. Upon subsequently joining the Business School office team, I was initially busy translating many of the documents for our new incoming GMBA cohort. 

The entire GMBA programme is in English and our students are not expected to have any knowledge of the Japanese language (though, of course, it helps in daily life). Therefore, many documents (library information, student handbooks, official notices, application forms, etc.; everything needed to be translated into English. At one point, I was even making little English labels for things in the building and doing simple things like creating instructions in English for how to use lockers…)

Then, in September 2009 our international students arrived, and I have since been busy translating, interpreting, advising, helping to organise and so on, carrying out all manner of administrative duties. It was an interesting experience because prior to that I had been studying for such a long time as a student at Kyoto University, pouring over books alone in my quiet room with little contact with the outside world unless I sought it in the company of friends. It has been very interesting and eye-opening to observe the dynamics of working in an open-plan office with a team of other people, albeit a little difficult to concentrate sometimes because I am used to the silence of my own study.

The students seem quite happy with the programme, and because the programme is still in its early years, as the initial cohort, there are many opportunities for them to put forward ideas on the development and running of the programme. The 2009 cohort is a diverse  body of 20 students from 13 different countries around the world; they are a close-knit community of very enthusiast, dynamic people, and therefore, a lot of fun to be around.

My own field is not related to Business Studies and I have been asked on occasion why I am working at DBS. My first thought is, “That’s the way the cookie crumbles…”, but actually, in a  roundabout sort of way admittedly, my work here is very much related to my field, that is, the field of international relations. Granted, my research is more historically based, but a historical base is not much use if it is not to be made reference to in the context of the present, and indeed, the future. Therefore, it is important to understand the present situation too.

I have learned a great deal about globalization and internationalism during my time at DBS. I have also learned a great deal about what constitutes professionalism, and I have developed quite a strong opinion about what does not constitute professionalism. I have been fortunate enough to have been surrounded by colleagues who have taught me a great deal about professionalism, and about the world of business, of which I really knew nothing before.

As my interests lie in the history of Bakumatsu/Meiji Japan, I  wonder what the founder of Doshisha, Niijima Jo (or Joseph Hardy Neesima, as he is also known, 1843-1890), would think of his university’s Global 30 initiative and the Global MBA. I assume he would be proud of the developments, although admittedly sometimes during my time here I have sensed frustrations amongst those involved regarding the pace of these developments, and I have an inkling Niijima-sensei might have felt the same. There is still a lot to be done in terms of the general mindset toward globalization within the university as a whole, but small and gradual steps may be better in the long run rather than a dive into the unknown.  This begs the question, what is globalization (and should I spell it with an ‘s’ or a ‘z’)? What does it mean to globalize (I’m still not entirely comfortable with that ‘z’… nevermind, I’ll try and get over it)?

For me, an important element of being global however, is multiculturalism. As a child, I grew up in places like Birmingham, Dudley and later Liverpool, which are very multicultural places. Britain is a small island nation like Japan, but it is much more culturally and racially diverse. If the colour of somebody’s skin is different to mine, so what? They still have the same red blood coursing through their veins. If somebody has a different cultural background to mine, so what? Diversity makes the world a more interesting place. Multiculturalism is still pretty low on the cards in Japan. I still get stared at for my white skin and red hair in some places, at least I think it’s that and not my poor dress sense Being in the environment of the Global MBA at Doshisha however, is a very multicultural experience. With so many people from so many different backgrounds working together, the environment can do nothing but give you a sense of being a true global citizen.

 The one or two movers and shakers at Doshisha are gradually influencing their colleagues and the “fear of the unknown” seems to be steadily dissipating. I imagine that Niijima-sensei came up against a lot of opposition and stick-in-the-mud mindsets himself when he first established his school. Certainly, his escape to the United States of America in 1864 was against the rules; at the time, no Japanese was allowed to leave Japan on pain of death, but off he went anyway to learn about the west. He studied at Amherst College, Massachusetts and was baptised a christian. Then he brought his religion back to Japan and established Doshisha on christian principles. That would have rankled quite a few people in Japan at the time having been a very anti-christian nation for so many years. Christianity had long been forbidden in Japan by the Bakufu government and it was still feared as a method for the western take-over of Japan by many. State Shinto was in many ways established as a means to counter this. Nevertheless, Niijima brought his christianity, set up an English school under its principles and the school eventually became one of the best private universities in the country. Doshisha is now faced with a new challenge, however; does it wish to get left behind, or does it wish to enhance and expand itself to meet the global era? I’m pretty sure Niijima-sensei would want it to move forward into globalisation and make its mark as a world-class university, and it is now taking gradual steps toward this.

Doshisha recently succeeded in becoming a member of AACSB International - the Association to Advance Collegiate Schools of Business. I was helping to organise the application for that and I am very glad that we managed to become a member before my work here finished (it gives me a bit of a sense of closure). It may perhaps be some time before Doshisha can become accredited by AACSB (the process usually can take anything up to 5 years, apparently), but if the University stays true to its goal of globalization, I really think Doshisha Business School can make its mark on the world stage. I think Niijima-sensei would be proud of that. Doshisha Business School aims to be a world-class business school. The standards must therefore meet the standards of international institutes. That means much more participation in the global sphere (ie participating in international symposia etc) and Doshisha Business School is certainly progressing towards that.

My time at Doshisha has been interesting. I truly learned a lot about the behind-the-scenes running of a Japanese university. More important to me personally, I also learned a great deal about myself and about what I want out of life. I would be lying if I said my time at Doshisha has been a breeze. If I am honest, it has been quite a struggle for me. I am grateful for all I have learnt however, and I am very happy that I was able to work with some very lovely people. Thank you to the GMBA team.

I hope the Global MBA will continue to go from strength to strength.

I have never much been interested in women’s studies or gender studies in particular. I have spent most of my time investigating “samurai dudes”, and that it should be surprising for a woman to do anything other than fit into the narrow-minded stereotype of wife/mother seems fairly irrelevent to me, if only because I don’t fit the stereotype myself and not many of my female friends do either, but that is perhaps the subject of another kind of blog.

My field, especially in Japan perhaps, is dominated by male figures, but I have never questioned, or found need to question that. It was only because the character of Chiba Sana was questioned that the issue of exceptional females in history was brought to my attention. My immediate reaction, however, was to ask whether she really was all that uncommon in her time?

I’ll wait for the next lecture from Miyakawa-sensei to find out more.

I attended another lecture  hosted by the Kyoto Ryoma Club. This time the speaker was Machida Akihiro of Meiji Gakuin University. He spoke about Shimazu Hisamitsu, younger brother to one of the great lords of Satsuma, Shimazu Nariakira, and the father of that lord’s successor, Shimazu Shigehisa.

Although Machida-sensei did not really touch upon the subject in his talk, what interests me about Hisamitsu is his role in the famous Namamugi Incident, or as it is sometimes known, the Richardson Affair, in which the British merchant Richardson was murdered by Satsuma men.  The incident led to the Anglo-Satsuma War, which in turn led to much cooperation between Britain and Satsuma and to the sending of Satsuma students to Britain in 1865 (a subject I have touched upon in a previous post).  The British residents in Yokohama were in uproar over the Namamugi Incident and were initially baying for the swift arrest of Shimazu Hisamitsu, however he managed to get away and was not pursued further. I’d like to delve into this topic further in a future blog; will keep you posted.

Saturday, 10th October 2009

Today was the 115th anniversary of Nakai Hiromu’s death. In the morning I visited his grave at Sokushû-in within the precincts of Tofukuji Temple.

This was the second time for me to visit on the anniversary of his death. Last year I was joined by two Kyoto Ryoma Club members, but this year I went on my own. I washed the grave, placed flowers and lit incense as an offering before paying my respects with a prayer. I felt somewhat guilty about not having my completed my PhD thesis yet, and could only report that I am STILL working on it. My only excuse is not having the time as I currently work a full-time job now. There was a young priest cleaning up the temple gardens after the recent typhoon. There were leaves and twigs all over the place so he really had his work cut out for him; still he had some time to chat to me briefly. I spoke to the mother of the house too. She told me how Hiromu’s descendent, Nakai Hiroko used to often come and visit the grave all the way from her home at the foot of Mt. Fuji. Nakai Hiroko is one of the ladies who established the Nakai Hiromu statue that now stands in Kyoto’s Maruyama Park in 1964. According to the mother at Sokushû-in, Hiroko is an elderly lady now who can’t really get to visit the grave these days. I gave her a copy of one of my papers and she said she would pass it on to Hiroko-san. The first time I met one of Nakai Hiromu’s descendents, I felt the reality for the first time. Until that point, Hiromu had just been an historical figure from dusty history books. On meeting one of his descendents the realism hit me. I’ll never forget that feeling. Hiromu is somebody’s grandfather, great-grandfather…

Saturday, 17th October 2009

I attended Day One of the Japan Writers Conference (JWC) at Doshisha Women’s College of Liberal Arts (DWCLA). It had been my intention to go and listen to Juliet Winters Carpenter speak about the translation project she is now involved in, that of Shiba Ryôtarô’s Saka no ue no Kumo. There are eight books in the series and Prof. Carpenter will be team translating them. She informed us she will be doing three of the books over the next two years!

Whn I lived in Aomori (1999-2002) I bought a copy of her translation of Shiba’s Saigo no Shôgun, or The Last Shogun. It was from this publication that I first learned of Prof. Carpenter. Shiba’s books are well-known as fairly difficult to read and with all the historical references his books must be terribly difficult to translate. As Prof. Carpenter herself said however, Shiba is one of, if not the most influential authors in Japan. Some might even argue that to understand the Japanese mindset it is essential to know Shiba’s work. However, to my knowledge, despite the tremendous amount of works that he has written, only The Last Shogun, translated by Prof Carpenter, The Tatar Whirlwind: A Novel of Seventeenth Century East Asia translated by Joshua A Vogel, and Kukai the Universal: Scenes from His Life, translated by Akiko Takemoto have been translated and published in English. It has always been one of my dreams to translate Ryôma ga Yuku; that too is eight volumes long, so if I am going to do it, I had better get started….

I have since updated my “About the Author” page, and if I am honest, lately I have been feeling the pinch of not having more published papers out by now.

My only excuses for not keeping up with this blog are that now I am working full-time as an administrator at Doshisha Business School where a new Global MBA Programme has starting this autumn.  My PhD thesis is still not complete, and I have  been hit by health troubles.

I am also working on several other projects too. Although, I am beginning to wonder when any of them will be completed! “A woman’s work is never done”, and all that.

Amongst the chaos of everyday life, recently I attended a lecture at Campus Plaza Kyoto hosted by the Kyoto Ryoma-kai. Curator of the Kyoto National Museum and author of Ryoma wo Yomu Tanoshisa (Rinsen Sensho, 2003), Miyakawa Teiichi, gave a talk about the photographs of Sakamoto Ryoma’s wife, Oryo. It was a fascinating lecture. One of these photographs of Oryo in particular  is a relevant artifact for my own research because the photograph album of which it is a part is said to have been put together by none other than the star of my own thesis, Nakai Hiromu.

Unfortunately, there is no direct physical evidence that states the album, which is one of a set of two, was put together by Nakai Hiromu. There is no signature written by Nakai himself, for example. There is not even a photograph of Nakai included in the collection. The only evidence we have is word of mouth.

Collectively these two albums are known as the Iguchi Albums, as they were donated to the museum in Autumn 2000 by Iguchi Shinsuke, a descendant of the same Iguchi Shinsuke who ran a Soy sauce shop in Kawaramachi Street where Sakamoto Ryoma and Nakaoka Shintaro were assasinated in 1867. When Shinsuke, the younger, donated the albums to the museum, he informed them that they had been given to the Iguchi family by Nakai Hiromu. Iguchi Shinsuke, the elder, had been a good friend of Nakai Hiromu during the Bakumatsu/Meiji years as he had to many of the samurai heroes of the time.

How a soy sauce shop owner became friends with a prefectural governor is an interesting story…

According to the story by Miyakawa-sensei in his book Ryoma wo Yomu Tanoshisa (p.166), Nakai met Iguchi when the former had collapsed from hunger near the Takoyakushi Bridge over the Takasegawa river after having run away from his domain, Satsuma. Iguchi Shinsuke and his wife Sumi took Nakai in, fed him and looked after him until he regained his strength. Then some years later in 1884, Nakai Hiromu became the governor of Shiga prefecture and he called Iguchi to the prefectural office to thank him. Iguchi is said to have wondered what the governor of Shiga would want with him, until of course, he got there and realised who it was.

Another version I could have sworn I’d heard somewhere, but could well have confused it with something else, was that Nakai had collapsed near the bridge in Kiyamachi after a fairly hard night of drinking, and had been taken in by Iguchi. Some days after that Iguchi was called to the Shiga Prefectural government offices where he was surprised to find the governor Nakai wanting to thank him… Personally, I quite like this second story. It paints a picture of a typical scene that might be still seen in Kiyamachi today after a wild weekend of partying!

Upon the death of Nakai Hiromu, Iguchi Shinsuke was entrusted with several of Nakai’s items, including the two photograph albums. Also in the collection, which was given to the Kyoto National Museum, were a number of scrolls with letters to Nakai from several illustrious Bakumatsu and Meiji period notables as well as a medal given to Nakai by the Meiji government.

Along with the letters housed in the Kyoto National Museum and the Reimeikan Museum in Kagoshima, these two photograph albums give an excellent idea of the sort of connections and famous friends that Nakai had. Although throughout the recording of history thus far Nakai himself has been a background figure, there is evidence enough to show that through these many connections, he was able to make not the smallest amount of influence on the history of his time.

I was recently in Tokyo in order to send off some relatives who had been visiting here in Kyoto. After seeing them through the gates at Narita Airport I dashed off to visit the Edo-Tokyo Museum near Ryogoku Station. I had been desperate to go there for some time as I had heard about the model of the Rokumeikan building they had. However, after being mighty impressed at the sheer scale of the museum itself and the somewhat elaborate method for actually getting into the museum building itself, I made a beeline for the Rokumeikan display and found myself utterly  disappointed with what was on show. Or rather, not on show, because the Rokumeikan model could hardly be seen. I felt most put-out. It was a little bit like that feeling you get when you’re all expectant and excited about seeing a movie you ‘ve heard rave reviews about and then you watch it and it’s quite simply ‘rubbish’.  What depressed me most of all was that all of the other exhibition pieces were brilliant! Only the Rokumeikan, or rather the method of its display, was a real disappointment. The model itself, what I could see of it at least, was amazing.

It simply could not be seen properly. It was fitted into a hole in the floor and over the top of it some thick glass was placed for people to walk over to see it from a kind of bird’s eye view. This might not have been such a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that because the model was so large in scale (it included both the Rokumeikan building and the large front garden and gate) one sheet of glass alone was not safe enough for people to walk over, so the glass cover was split into smaller sections with what appeared to be thick iron girders in between, thus blocking a clear view of the model beneath.

After this disappointment, I wondered despondently around the rest of museum and then decided to try the museum shop. I found some postcards with one being of the Rokumeikan model. The photograph on the front gave a much better perspective and clearer view. I wondered why the display itself could not have allowed a view like the one on the postcard. Thinking that was all they had in the way of Rokumeikan goods I was about to leave, but then, in the far corner of the shop I saw some publications, one of which gave a description of the Rokumeikan and the construction of the model by the modeller, Uchida Yoshio who is an architect and lecturer at Toyo University. I bought a copy of that and two copies of the Rokumeikan postcards and headed back to my hotel.

The following day, weighed down by heavy luggage, I went to the site where the Rokumeikan once stood. Now, the Yamato Life Insurance company building stands on the spot. Exhausted from the weight of my bags, I was glad to find a trusty old Starbucks coffee shop on the ground floor of the building. After taking a couple of pictures of the plaque commemorating  the Rokumeikan, I went and enjoyed a Matcha Tea Latte and pondered the significance of the Rokumeikan.

The Rokumeikan was highly criticised within Japan for its unnecessary lavishness. Inoue Kaoru, the driving force behind the Rokumeikan project, was eventually forced to resign from his position as Foreign Minister for failing to rid Japan of the bonds of the Unequal Treaties with western nations, and his so-called ‘failure’ is also seen to be part of the failure of the Rokumeikan.

My interest in the Rokumeikan began when I discovered that it was Nakai Hiromu who, apparently, suggested the naming for the Rokumeikan. It comes from a Chinese classic poem in the collection called the Shi Jing. In the book by Pat Barr, The Deer Cry Pavillion (which is how the word “Rokumeikan” translates into English) quotes the English translation by Arthur Waley of the Chinese poem:

Yu, yu, cry the deer

Nibbling the black southernwood in the field.

I have a guest.

Let me play my zither, blow my reed-organ,

Blow my reed-organ, trill their tongues,

Take up the baskets of offerings,

Here is a man that loves me

And will teach me the ways of Chou.

The poem represents the welcoming of guests, which is exactly what the Rokumeikan was for. The prevailing idea that its purpose was to rid Japan of the bonds of the Unequal Treaties appears to me to be more an idea that came with the after-thought of the contemporary media and critics of the time. The original purpose, I think, was that it would merely be a place to welcome foreign guests. Certainly, if anything positive had come from it regarding the unequal treaties, the Rokumeikan would perhaps not have been so highly criticised, and it could well have been in existence today.

There is an excellent translation by David Rosenfeld (2001) of Pierre Loti’s vicious attack on the Rokumeikan. Loti tells of his personal experience when he was invited to a ball at the Rokumeikan to celebrate the Emperor Meiji’s birthday in 1886. I was absolutely shocked to read his account; his racist attitude seems to know no bounds. To give an example, he calls the rickshaw men that drive the guests to the ball “little black imps”! Need I say anymore?!

I am glad I finally made it to the Edo-Tokyo Museum. As long as you don’t get too excited about seeing the Rokumeikan exhibit as I did, I can really reccommend a visit there. It’s a pretty big place and one of the bonuses is that you can use your ticket for multiple re-entry for one day, so if you fancy going to get some “chanko-nabe” (sumo wrestlers’ hot-pot) for lunch you can! Ryogoku is a famous Sumo mecca, of course; home to a number of Sumo stables, restaurants that serve Sumo hot-pots and there is also the famous Sumo Stadium. I always enjoy watching the Sumo on TV; I’d like to go there again to see a tournament. Perhaps by that time, the Rokumeikan model will have a  better form of display.

]]> http://eleanorinjapan.wordpress.com/2009/05/30/rokumeikan/feed/ 3 Eleanor Robinson http://eleanorinjapan.wordpress.com/2009/03/31/a-stone-marks-the-spot/ http://eleanorinjapan.wordpress.com/2009/03/31/a-stone-marks-the-spot/#comments Tue, 31 Mar 2009 06:58:00 +0000 Eleanor Robinson http://eleanorinjapan.wordpress.com/?p=166 ]]>

Stone marker

On March 29th 2009, the unveiling ceremony was held for the stone established by the Kyoto Ryoma Club to show where Sakamoto Ryoma’s wife Oryo lived in her days before marrying Ryoma as well as where Nakai Hiromu lived during the end years of the Tokugawa Shogunate.

I attended the ceremony which was led by Akao Hiroaki, head of the Kyoto Ryoma Club and I helped out with the unveiling. Nakamura Takeo, a Geographical Historian who teaches at Kyoto Women’s College gave a brief speech about Oryo to the crowd that had gathered to come and see the event.

I was suddenly also asked to speak a little about Nakai Hiromu, but unfortunately became incredibly tongue-tied and perhaps didn’t make much sense to the listeners; whereupon I was rescued by Miyakawa Teiichi, a curator at the Kyoto National Museum, who also spoke a little about Nakai. I regret not having been better prepared to say something (a lesson for any similar future scenarios!) but I had no idea I would be asked to say something. The day then continued with a mini tour of Kyoto led by Nakamura-sensei who took us round some of the places related to Oryo’s life and times.

Finally, in the evening there was a celebration to commemorate the 2nd anniversary of the opening of the Ryoma Bar in Kiyamachi Street, Kyoto; after which we all ‘piled in’ to the Ryoma Bar and lots of karaoke was enjoyed.

My only other regret was not having prepared some handouts about Nakai Hiromu to give to the crowd. What with having to write a PhD thesis and everything else that is going on I didn’t really have the time to make something up. Nakai Hiromu is still not very well known so I have to get word out as soon as possible. Time is always something I wish I had more of these days.

One of Nakai Hiromu’s descendents is currently in the process of publishing a biography in Japanese about his great ancestor so that will be a big step forward (one I am looking forward to). Once the thesis is out of the way, my plan is to get to work on an English version of a biography.

Nakai Hiromu saved the life of the British ambassador to Japan, Harry Parkes, in March 1868 at the Nawate Incident in Kyoto (when  Parkes was on his way to an audience with the Emperor Meiji) so he is an extremely key figure for the history of Anglo-Japanese relations history.

The “What if?” concept within historical studies has been utilised much in recent years and I for one think it is a very important concept to consider. What if ambassador Harry Parkes, or those that accompanied him: the famous Japanophile and diplomat Ernest Satow, or grandfather of the famous Mitford sisters and later Lord Redesdale, Algernon B. Mitford, had been killed that day? I believe that Anglo-Japanese relations would have developed in a considerably different manner. In what way different? Maybe Robert Cowley will do some more “What If?” books and he’ll let me ‘sling in’ a few of my ideas?

I got all excited today because I found some photographs of Nakai Hiromu on the Internet that I had not known about previously. The photographs are in the “Izeki collection”, and can be viewed here:

Nakai photos in the Izeki Collection (Photo no. 20, 104, and 105)

Seeing Nakai in Japanese dress (photo no. 20) was nice because he is more usually portrayed in western dress. He is the one in the middle at the back . Also in the picture is Yamaguchi Naoyoshi (1839-1894), a samurai from the domain of Saga who joined the famous Iwakura Mission on a tour around the world. Tanaka Moriaki (1843-?) is second from the left, and he is one of the Satsuma students who travelled secretly to Britain in 1865. Ueno Kagenori (1845-1888) is second on the right. He was a well-known scholar of English from Satsuma and became the Japanese minister for Britain. Finally, on the far-right is Komatsu Tatewaki (1835-1870) the famous samurai from Satsuma who is recently gaining much attention in Japan after the airing of the NHK period drama Atsuhime. Also, the picture of Nakai Hiromu sat next to a women (photo no. 104) was intriguing. She looks very stern; I wonder, who she could be? The description at the bottom tells us the picture was taken in London in Meiji 2 (1869) after he had finished working for the Foreign Department, so it was taken on his second visit to London.  I think however, that he looks his most “dashing” in photo no. 105, again which was taken in London.

March 26th, 2009, glorious Spring weather!

I had a little bit of time in between tasks today so I cycled into Kiyamachi as the weather gave me my first real feeling of Spring of the year. The blossoms have just started to come out a little along Kiyamachi. My reason for going there was to take a photograph of the pre-unveiled stone I mentioned in my last blog entry that informs passers-by that Nakai Hiromu and Sakamoto Ryoma’s wife Oryo lived around that area. Here’s the picture (the stone and plaque are still covered up in white tape waiting for the unveiling on the 29th):

A still covered stone

]]> http://eleanorinjapan.wordpress.com/2009/03/27/some-recent-occurrances/feed/ 0 Eleanor Robinson Still covered