Life in Japan during the Coronavirus

Japan was one of the first few countries to be infected by the coronavirus thanks to a regular influx of people from China. Inspite of that, Japan remained largely unaffected till March. The first case was detected as early as January but the rise in number of cases remained extremely slow.

While the world locked down and frantically prepared to battle the virus, life for those of us in Japan went on as usual. The only major impact was on the tourism industry. Although it was cherry blossom time and peak tourist season, a lot of people had started cancelling their international trips and there was a drastic drop in tourists. This had an unexpected effect. The Japanese suddenly realized that perhaps for the first time in their memory, their country was not inundated with foreigners at this peak tourist season and they all came out with a vengeance to enjoy the good weather. Popular destinations like Kyoto recorded almost no foreign tourists but a marked increase in local tourism. I visited Kamakura, the temple town near Tokyo, sure that I would have the place to myself but was surprised to find the shrines choc a block with the Japanese. It was as if the virus did not exist at all.  

 By March, Japan started taking the virus a little more seriously and a lot of tourist spots as well as schools were closed. But there was no stopping nature! Cherry blossoms were blooming and like every year popular cherry blossom spots were crowded with people. In true polite Japanese fashion, the government kept requesting the people to avoid crowds. The Japanese however, were not the ones to let a mere virus dampen their pleasure of enjoying the cherry blossom season that lasts for a mere two weeks but is something that they wait for the entire year. A few did stay home, but they were the minority.

Meanwhile the world continued to speculate on how Japan continued to defy the virus. The majority of Japan's population is aging (like Italy) and that along with its proximity to China should have posed a great risk. However, Japan had clamped down on visitors from China right from the beginning and had promptly isolated the infected cases. The population though aging is in great health with a strong immunity. Another reason is that social distancing has always been a part of Japanese culture. This is a country that shies away from handshakes and casual touching. Bowing is the acceptable form of greeting. Another factor was the widespread usage of masks in Japan. Even before the world discovered masks through the coronavirus, they had always been a common sight in Japan. With their fetish for hygiene and health, the Japanese use the masks as protection against germs and allergies. Hay fever season begins around January here and a lot of people were already wearing masks to avoid inhaling any pollen as well as any cold germs that might be floating about.

Having said that, it was still baffling how Japan with its densely populated areas and crowded trains managed to keep the numbers so low.

A very strong opinion was also that the government was hiding the true figures or testing less because Prime Minister Abe had his eyes set on the Olympics and had no intention of letting go of his Olympic dream.

 Things started going downhill by the end of March when suddenly a lot of cases with no travel history popped up. While it took Japan around 70 days – from January to mid-march to reach 1000 cases, it took a mere 10 more days for the figure to reach 2000. The identified clusters were mainly entertainment areas with restaurants, karaoke and pachinko parlors. Governors in the most affected areas of Tokyo and Hyogo started asking people to stay indoors on weekends and evenings. Perhaps the Japanese felt that the virus here worked only nights and weekends !

After intense pressure from the medical community, on 7^th April Prime Minister Abe finally declared a state of emergency in Tokyo, Osaka and a few more areas. Unlike India where lockdown was clamped almost overnight, the Japanese government took its time. The leaders huddled in meetings day after day while we kept hearing reports on how 'discussions to prepare for the announcement of an emergency' were being held. There is a lot of emphasis in Japan on following the proper procedure and protocol and reaching a mutual consensus before making a decision. There was no reason why things should be expedited now.

The emergency when it finally came was very different from other countries. As per Japanese law, the government cannot force people to stay indoors or ask the businesses to close or work from home. All it could do was strongly request people to avoid the three Cs – crowds, closed spaces and conversations at short distances. There can be no fines or punishments if people don’t comply. Public transport is still running, the roads remain open. The emergency is just to make the citizens aware of the gravity of the situation and allow the government to take economic measures.

So how successful this emergency is, depends entirely on the people of Japan. They are a highly disciplined society, known to follow their leader, view all requests from the government as orders and always put society and Nation first.

But at the other end of the spectrum is the hard-working Japanese who considers his work as the highest duty. There are still people who would consider working from home as shying away from responsibilities and not being a good employee. Unlike the west, work from home is still a very alien concept in Japan. With their emphasis on face to face contact a lot of traditional companies just cannot comprehend remote working. Also, there is still a lot of paperwork here and digital signatures have not yet replaced the company seal.

With the current figure of around 8000 cases, the numbers still remain comparatively low as compared to other countries like US, UK and Italy.

Let’s see what the coming weeks bring !

Glories of a Japanese Spring

Most people associate spring in Japan with Cherry (Sakura) blossoms but before the cherry blossoms drive people into a flower viewing frenzy at the end of March, there comes the Plum blossom season in February. According to me, it is the Plum or Ume blossoms that truly herald spring in Japan. With colors ranging from pristine white to light pink and almost reddish the Plums looks very pretty against the clear blue of a typical Japanese winter Sky. It is still cold in Japan when the plum blossoms start to appear and they do a marvelous job of adding color to the drab leafless winter landscape.

After the long cold Japan winter seeing the first plum blossoms always fills me with happiness. The cheerful flowers seem to tell me that the air might still have a nip in it, but spring and warmer days are not too far! They remind me of a line From Shelly’s poem If Winter comes, can spring be far behind!

The Beginning of March brings a new kind of excitement. The days are longer and warmer but this is not what makes people more cheerful. It is the anticipation of Sakura. Right from end of February, the newspapers and magazines start publishing region wise predictions about cherry blossoms – when they will first start blooming and when will they be in full bloom. The Japanese follow these reports with as much interest as some of us follow share prices. In Tokyo the cherry blossom season is officially declared open when the first blooms or Hatsu hana appear on an ancient cherry blossom tree at the Yasukuni Shrine.
Yasukuni shrine may be the official symbol but all of us here in Tokyo have our own personal Cherry blossoms spots that we keep our eyes peeled on to see if the blooms are out or not. The park near my apartment is lined with sakura trees and everyone right from the joggers streaking past, sedate old ladies walking their dogs, the salaryman quickly crossing the park on his way to a meeting or young mothers pushing strollers, would glance up in anticipation to see if the blooms are out yet. For a week or so I watched the buds grow bigger and bigger every day during my walks. And suddenly one day there they were, the first cherry blossom of the season. They sure did put a spring in our steps.

Cherry blossoms can be found all over the city but there are some areas in Tokyo like the Ueno park and the Meguro river front that are known for their cherry trees. All sorts of events are organized during this time and food stalls are put up everywhere. The cherry trees are lit up at night for night viewing or Yozakura. There are also Hanami or flower viewing parties that are usually loud and boisterous get togethers where friends and family gather under cherry trees and have a daylong picnic. It is a cheerful time, everyone is happy to leave the winter behind and looking forward to spring and summer ahead. 

This year, the pleasure of cherry blossoms was marred by the corona virus. By the times the blooms came out, the government had started asking people not to go to crowded places. Hanami parties were banned and all events canceled.
The Japanese however, were not the ones to let a mere virus dampen their pleasure of enjoying the cherry blossom season that lasts for a mere two weeks but is something that they wait for the entire year. A few did stay home, but they were the minority.
I chose to not go to the popular, crowded cherry blossom spots but I did have my local park where walks under the tree-lined paths gave me a lot of pleasure.  

Sometimes just viewing rows after rows of cherry blossom trees is just a bit much for the senses, but the park is very green with a lot of other trees and the white and light pink cherry trees popping out against the greenery made the perfect visual experience.

This selective viewing in peace was perhaps much better than being jostled by crowds and trying to take a picture of the trees without a thousand people photobombing it.
When the flowers appear on the cherry trees, there is not a single leaf on them. Perhaps this is what makes them so special, a drab brown tree with naked branches one day and the next day covered with delicate petals. But when tender young leaves start appearing on the sakura trees and the ground under them becomes a carpet of cherry blossom petals you know the cherry blossom season is about to end. 

The season lasts all of two-three weeks and reminds us of the impermanence of things. Whatever has come will go, to be replaced by something else – something different but perhaps equally beautiful.
Cherry blossoms may have gone, but soon the bright and happy summer flowers will arrive – The Japanese lavender, hydrangea, azaleas,sunflowers and so many more. I wait for them in anticipation of better times ahead so that we may all go out again and rejoice in nature!

The Tall Girl in Japan

A lot of you who follow me on Facebook must have realized that I now live in Japan. It is an enchanting land but between you and me I think I have chosen the most unsuitable country to live in. Let me give you a very sincere piece of advice if you must work out of India chose a country according to your size. I mean look at me, all five feet nine inches living in a country that even on the world map seems narrow and cramped.

I could have chosen Canada – where everyone is tall (and handsome), where there is enough space for you to take long strides without banging into things and where the shops overflow with lovely clothes – all of which fit you. Instead I chose to live in Japan, a country that makes you feel as if you are living inside the dollhouse you had as a kid.

Space is at a premium here. The apartments are handkerchief-sized, the rooms so small that when someone as tall as me stretches out on the bed, my legs hang out of the balcony. This is a world where you get used to standing in tubs and showering because the tubs are so small that the only way you can have a bubble bath is if you curl up in a fetal position with your knees touching your ears. I am just thankful for a detachable showerhead. Washing my hair in a crouched position would be no fun at all. The loo is an interesting place with all those high tech toto toilets but the toilet is so low that you keep wondering when your butt will finally hit the seat.

The kitchen platform and bathroom sinks are perfect for a five-feet person but for someone like me, it is like viewing them from space. I never know if I am applying my makeup correctly because the mirror cuts me off at the neck. My greatest achievement in Japan has been finding a bed that fits me. Of course, that huge bed now takes up most of my apt and leaves space for nothing else. Sheets and quilts are another business altogether. I don’t think there is a quilt ever made in Japan that can keep me completely warm. If you like to pull up the quilt till your shoulders be prepared for frozen toes when you wake up.

It is not only the apartments. One would think a better world awaits once you leave your tiny claustrophobic abode. But that is not to be. It is as if the Japanese in an attempt to save space started making everything in child sizes. The seats in buses are so small that I sit with my legs jammed against the seat in front of me and half my butt hanging out. Obviously, I take up most of the two-seater leaving no space for the poor petite Japanese wanting to sit down.

In trains seats are not a problem but you do tower over everyone else giving you a nice birds-eye view over everyone’s head. The positive is that you don’t have to breathe in everyone’s sweat during the hot Japanese summer because your nose is high up in the air. But things are not hunky-dory here either. You need to be on a constant lookout against the advertisements hanging from the roof lest you bang your head against them and with every lurch of the train the handrails play a tattoo against your head.

Sometimes you just want to escape from everything and have a nice relaxing meal. So, you go to a restaurant dreaming of a piping hot bowl of noodles. A lot of restaurants have counters where you sit in a row with other diners. If the restaurant is even slightly crowded, they will request you to sit at the counter if you are eating alone. There needs to be an award for tall people who need to fit their butt on to the tiny bar stools and also somehow fit in their laptop bag, handbag and long legs and pointy elbows in the narrow space. I barely enjoy my meal because I am always worried about my elbow dipping into my neighbors Ramen bowl. Everything is so close to each other, even If I manage to get myself a table, I am always in a perpetual state of anxiety about how I would manage to squeeze out between the tables without juggling the table and toppling my neighbor’s meal on his or her lap.

Japan is known for its great fashion sense. I remember on my first visit here I entered a clothing store with great excitement. Only to slink out totally embarrassed a while later. The only thing that fits me well in Japan is a scarf. This is a country where S is normal, M is what XL is to the rest of the word and sizes beyond that just don’t exist. If you manage to buy a shirt you can button yourself into, the sleeves will end well above your wrists, the shirt length will be so short that it will barely clear your navel and your ankles will invariably peep out of even the longest pants that you find on this island. I now walk past all those fashion clothing stores with my eyes averted. Buying shoes is equally embarrassing. The salespeople will not even bother to assist you. They will glance at your feet shake their head and tell you nothing exists in your size. The best thing to do is stock up when you go home. You start treating clothes and shoes with more care than your diamonds because you know you will never be able to buy more here if you run out.

Back home, you may be a normal human being, but in Japan, you turn into a combination of Gulliver and Bigfoot.

So, dear friends in keeping with my current state, this blog has been renamed the Tall Girl in Japan. I promise to bring you the stories of my latest escapades and adventures from the Land of the Rising Sun and Short people!

I do hope you will enjoy them!

City Of My Heart - A Book Review

Delhi is supposed to be the heart of India and Delhi’s heart beats in the Red Fort.The Red Fort has been a witness to many things – The rise and fall of the Mughal Empire,the British invasion of Delhi,India’s independence movement and finally the moment when the flag of an independent India was first unfurled from it.
Living in Delhi we have always taken the Red Fort for granted. It has always been there, defining Old Delhi’s skyline, a part of our history and heritage. We have all visited it, know the basic history, how it was built by the Mughals, how it was turned into British barracks after the 1857 revolt. But how much do we know of the people who actually lived inside the Fort and the kind of life they led. It was not only the Mughal emperor who resided there, the red fort was a city in itself housing thousands of people. A peak into their lives would give us such a fantastic idea of the life in that era.

Rana Safvi’s book “City of My Heart does just that. It gives us a unique and never seen before glimpse into the lives of people who lived inside the fort. The book is a translation from Urdu of four narratives written by people who had a very deep insight into the life within the Red Fort during the twilight years of the Mughal Empire. 

The first three books; Aakhiri Deedar (The Last Glimpse of Delhi) by Syed Wazir Hasan Dehlvi, Bazm-e-Aakhir (The Last Assembly) by Munshi Faizuddin, Qila-e-Mu’alla ki Jhalkiya’n (Glimpses of the Exalted Fort) by Arsh Taimuri all have colorful snippets about the daily life of the emperor, the antics of the queens and princesses and others living in the Fort as well as the intrigues and jealousies that form the intricacies of every court. It also describes in detail about the festivities and celebrations and how “Delhi was a gay and lively city where every day was Eid and every night was Shab –e Barat”.

It is very clear from these narratives that though the Mughal Empire was at a decline, culture and literature thrived and Delhi’s people were considered to be the epitome of etiquette and grace. What I found the most interesting to read was how some festivals unique to Delhi such as the Phool Waalon Ki Sair came into being and how both Hindu and Islamic rituals and festivals mingled together and created a very cohesive, pluralistic way of life.

The last book, aptly titled Begamat kein ansoon (Tears of the Queens) by Khwaja Hasan Nizami describes the life of royals who fled the fort after the British took over it after the 1857 revolt. Most of the inhabitants were captured and hanged at the kotwali chabutara where the present day Gurudwara Sisganj stands. The ones who survived lived a life of abject poverty and misery.

The book has been translated from Urdu. Urdu is a flowery language full of nuances and idioms and is not easy to translate. Rana Safvi has done full justice to the translation, even better she has left some idioms and phrases as they are in Urdu (providing a footnote of course) so that those of us familiar with Hindi and a bit of Urdu can get the full flavor of what the writer is trying to say.

Before I read the book, I had an opportunity to attend a heritage walk to Red Fort by Rana Safvi. Reading the book was delightful as her translation is flawless but it was the heritage walk with her that actually brought alive the Fort for me.

At the start of the walk Rana Safvi told us that the Red Fort was originally called Quila e Mubarak and represented the zenith of Mughal grandeur, money and architecture. But slowly as the Mughal empire declined, the Mughals themselves started using the jewels embedded in the walls and it’s gold and silver panelling to fund themselves.The last straw was when the British took over the fort after the revolt, built barracks and started demolishing buildings they felt were not required.Had it not been the intervention of Lord Canning the British would have changed the face of the fort completely. To feel and experience the actual grandeur of the fort Rana asked us to see the Jain Temples in Old Delhi. The paintings and art there is very similar to what the Red Fort had at one point of time.

As she took us through the Fort, telling us stories and narrating snippets from the book, the noise and the pollution of modern Delhi slowly receded and we were transported into a bygone era.

Red Fort was no longer just a cluster of buildings.They came alive as she described each one as it once was.We felt as if we were witnessing the Diwan e khas in all its imperial glory,with the emperor sitting on the peacock throne surrounded by courtiers. The Rang Mahal and the Heera Mahal were no longer bare empty walls but lavish living quarters full of gold and silver and precious stones and brocade and lush carpets. We could almost see the Nahar –I – Bihisht ( The river of paradise) as it came through the marble flooring to form a graceful fountain. We could almost taste the dishes in the royal kitchen as Rana described them and hear the laughter of the royal ladies as they flitted through the Hayat Baksh Bagh dressed in their finery.The anguish that we felt as she described the British taking over the fort and turning the beautiful garden into barracks was very real !

The Red Fort no longer looked over busy a road teeming with vehicles, we could see the Yamuna flowing from it’s pavilions and the citizens gathered on it’s sandy banks for their first glimpse of the emperor or to watch the sports that were played there every winter.
Rana peppered her talk with interesting tit bits like how the royal women spoke in a “Begmati zabaan” that was full of idioms but beautiful to hear and how the emperor released a Neelkanth bird (considered auspicious to Hindus) every Dushera.

Rana is a passionate Historian and a story teller par excellence. Her knowledge is based not only on her translations but her very extensive research and study of Delhi and it’s Quila –e Mubarak.

Her attempt through her walk and her book to show us a Delhi that was once the epitome of the Ganga Jamuni Tehzib and a perfect example of social and religious cohesiveness is truly commendable.

Himalayan Orchard - The Hidden Gem of Apple Country

A few hours beyond the crowds and mayhem of Shimla, in the quiet village of Rukhla, lies a charming farm stay called the Himalayan Orchard.

I was there earlier this month when the monsoon was still lingering in the mountains and the apple season was at its peak. With all my love for Himachal I have never been there at apple picking time. I have looked longingly at the trees when they were bare and shorn of their fruit or when the apples were the size of small green golf balls but an Apple Orchard in its full glory had continued to elude me.

The roads from Chandigarh are excellent and we made good time inspite of the constant rain. I can understand the concerns about not traveling to the hills during the monsoon, but the peaks playing hide and seek behind the mist, the verdant greenery, the sudden flashing streak of sun through the clouds is something you will only see when it rains in the mountains.

As we neared apple country we could see apple trees dotting the mountain side, looking like shrouded giants under the white nets to protect them from parrots who love to feast on the fruit. As we went in deeper, the apple trees started appearing on both sides of the road, tempting us to just reach out and grab the ripe, shining red fruit. The trucks trundling down the winding roads carrying their loads of apples were another sign that we were really and truly in Apple Country.

Himalayan Orchard sits prettily on a sloping hillside, besides a pocket handkerchief sized garden with an immaculately kept lawn laced with a riot of multi coloured flowers. Painted a pristine white with a pink roof and green trimmings, pretty flower displays peeping out of huge windows gleaming in the sunshine, the cottage looks very welcoming. Beyond the cottage are steeply terraced hills, with their patchwork quilt of apple orchards and thick deodar forests, bumping and merging into each other before stretching on to the rugged peaks beyond.

The Farmstay is run by Devanshe and Mike and is actually Devanshe’s family home. They both met when they were teaching English in Japan and they decided to come back and turn this delightful property into a Farm stay.

Himalayan Orchard is a very beautifully curated home, tastefully done up with either family heirlooms or curios that Devanshe and Mike picked up during their travels. The art and artefacts, the various musical instruments, the ceramics from Japan, the colourful canvases on the walls, the wind chimes and the Koi nobori blowing gently in the wind all reflect a very personal style statement. This is a home where every nook and corner has a story to tell.

The pretty picture windows in each room allow an unhindered view of the mountains and the orchards. I loved the morning times the best with everything serene and quiet and the soft sunlight pouring in through the windows.

We had all staked our favorite corners at the Farmstay and mine was this sit out where Mike and Devanshe have made a pretty trellis for the grape vine. The view from here was picture perfect. The brown knobs that you see supporting the vine are actually from fishermen’s nets in Japan that Mike has painstakingly collected over the years during his walks on the sea shore.

The best thing about Himalayan Orchard is that it is not exactly on the tourist map so along with a peaceful and unspoiled environment you also get a chance to see what life is like in rural Himachal.

The farmstay has its owns stock of cows, chicken and a few goats. There is also a cock that will make sure you are up at day break whether you like it or not. The first morning when I was woken up by the insistent crowing I stumbled outside to hear a different kind of noise, somewhere between shouting and screeching. I started to wonder if this is how the people in this village greet each other but then I couldn’t see any one in sight. Devanshe told me later that this is the noise the workers make to scare away the birds from the apple trees.
The Farm is always busy but there was feverish activity going on in the orchard since it was apple picking time. Usually extra hands are called in to work during the picking season but Himalayan Orchard also gets people from Workaways to stay and volunteer with them. It is a fantastic concept where you can live with a family as a volunteer and in turn get a fabulous insight into the local culture. 

When we were there, we met Olivia and Luke from Britain and Dominique from Slovenia. They not only helped Devanshe and Mike around the farmstay but also chipped in with the apple sorting. 
We decided we wanted to ‘help’ too and made our way down to the apple shed where Devanshe’s father was busy supervising the work. After the apples are picked from the trees, they are brought into the apple shed to be cleaned and then sorted according to size using a machine that has different sized outlets through which different sizes of apples fall into different trays. After sorting the apples are packaged for their Journey in to all corners of India.

Later we made our way down to the orchards where workers were busy picking the apples. Our intention was to help again but I think the only help we did was eating half the apples off a tree!

Tired by my efforts to pick and sort apples I was delighted to discover that the Farmstay has a library and a game room. The library warmed my heart. The book collection is eclectic and the view from the windows fabulous. You not only have hundreds of interesting books to choose from but very picturesque surroundings to read them in. I had to be dragged out of there at meal times.

Meals at the farmhouse table were ambrosial. There was Devanshe’s home made sourdough bread, cheese, plum, gooseberry and ginger chutneys, mushroom pickle and jams and of course freshly made apple juice along with other Indian and continental dishes. When we were there, we had pasta with home grown kale pesto with delicious apple crumble one day and Sidkus made by Devanshe’s mother the next. Sidkus are a traditional Himachali dish made with wheat and stuffed with either lentils or Jaggery. I have eaten them before but I have never eaten more tastier ones than the ones cooked by Devanshe’s mother !

Everyone ate together and the conversations hopped from one topic to another with Devanshe’s father telling us about the orchards, Mike talking about the local folk lore and history, Luke, Olivia and Dominique discussing their travel plans while Devanshe kept an eye on all of us making sure our plates were full and we were eating well.

Devanshe is a wonderful artist and glimpses of her art can be seen everywhere, from the beautiful signboards, the décor inside the house, her gardening, her flowers to the food she cooks.

If you are lucky, in the evenings when the frenzy of activity has died down and every one is in a relaxed and mellow mood, you might catch Devanshe at her Piano, playing something soft and beautiful. Olivia, one of the workaways happened to be a Piano teacher and both she and Devanshe made our stay that much more memorable by their music.

Mike very good humouredly says he is good at something the British would call bodging but we in India call Jugaad. He is excellent with his hands and can do anything from making an apple juice press to building a yoga studio on his own. As you go around the farmstay you would see always see him tinkering with something or the other.

His interest and knowledge about the area’s natural history and topography surpasses that of even the locals. He has spent months mapping and curating trails around the farmstay and has up to 12 trails clearly marked till now. This is no small feat considering the terrain. One of the highlights of our trip was the trek up to Sararu pass with him to get milk for Devanshe’s cheese making and a hike into the surrounding areas for mushroom foraging.

Himalayan Orchard has something for everyone. For people interested in the outdoors there are hikes and treks as short as two hours to as long as two days. For nature enthusiasts and photographers there is an abundance of flowers and plants and butterflies to photograph and identify. You can potter about the farm and take part in the milking, the cheese making and other farm activities. For writers and artists there is peace and solitude and a picturesque view for inspiration.



If you are someone like me who just wants to vegetate, there are many cheerful corners with comfortable chairs and plump cushions that invite you to doze or read or simply be.

Himalayan Orchard is the best of Immersive tourism where you get a deep insight into local culture and lifestyle. There is no television there but fabulous views, books to read, delicious home grown food and interesting conversations.

For me this was a fabulous Detox not only from the digital but also the urban world and an invaluable opportunity to explore the beautiful surrounding area. I will definitely be back for more.

Himalayan Orchard from a Distance 

For more Information about Devanshe and Mike and their farmstay, please refer to their website.


Coming up next – Hiking up to Sararu Pass with #JugaduMike and artisanal cheese making with #FarmerDevanshe