don’t land on my tomatoes


Imagine waking up one morning only to be told that the farmland you are living and working on would be expropriated.

Some nightmares seem to never disappear. Back in the ‘60s the government must have thought it was a good idea to choose the middle of nowhere in Chiba for the site of the New Tokyo International Airport (aka Narita). Faced immediately with strong resistance from the local farming community, the project got off to a bad start even before the first slab of concrete materialized. When it finally opened in 1978, eight years late, it didn’t even have a train station. For the next twelve years travelers had to change onto a bus for the final journey to the terminal — a short but scary ride that took them through a maze of high walls, barb-wire fences and gates manned by riot police with more armor than your average samurai. Quite a way to enter and leave Japan! In December 1990 they finally managed to complete the underground tracks linking the terminal to the rail network.

Today a total of 45,000 people work for the airport, which provides ¥10 billion in tax revenue and 40% of the total budget of the Narita municipality. A second terminal has since been added and a second runway is planned. But let’s look at the sequence of events in more detail.

When selection of the site near Sanrizuka in Narita City and the northern part of Shibayama Township was announced on July 4, 1966, it came out of the blue. In choosing this site for the New Tokyo International Airport, the government had failed to consult with local residents about the project. Until then, the primary candidate for the airport had been neighboring Tomisato Village, but farmers there learned about the project and promptly organized to oppose it, forcing the government to revise its plans and adopt a less honest approach.

Afraid of another rebuff, the government purposely avoided prior consultation and without any warning announced the selection of the Narita-Shibayama site following a cabinet meeting. No attempt whatsoever was made to obtain the consent of local residents beforehand, although, after the decision had been made, a public hearing on the airport was held in Chiba City. At that time, people were allowed to air their views and let off steam, but the hearing was primarily for public consumption as the government refused point blank to reconsider its decision.

To make their voices heard, the effected people formed the “League of Sanrizuka and Shibayama Farmers Against Narita Airport,” drawing up the front line for the battle that was to follow. In October 1967, the government mobilized riot police to forcibly restrain local farmers angered by a survey of the outer site. In 1971, the government and the farmers clashed violently on two occasions as authorities forcibly confiscated land inside the site designated for Phase I construction. In September that year, during the second round of expropriations, an elderly woman, Koizumi Yone, was evicted from her home. Her house, the land around it and a rice field were confiscated. To resist, the farmers (their ranks swelled with supporters from the student movement) built underground strongholds on their land, chained themselves to trees and defended themselves with their bare hands. Images of this fighting flashed around the world, and Sanrizuka earned the unflattering sobriquet of “Japan’s Vietnam.” During stage-two expropriations, three riot police were killed in the fighting, and one of the farmer’s friends took his own life in despair. Tragically, the loss of life on both sides did not stop there.

The government originally set completion of the first 4000-meter runway for April 1971. Because of widespread local protests and problems building a fuel pipeline, however, Narita’s Phase I was postponed numerous times. In March 1978, just days before the airport was scheduled to open, supporters of the farmers occupied the control tower, causing damage that resulted in a two-month delay. A single runway was finally inaugurated on May 20, 1978.

In the early 1990s, a group of opposition farmers began seeking a peaceful solution to the airport problem. From November 1991 to May 1993, they sat down with local and national government officials as well as airport representatives in an attempt to analyze the underlying causes of the airport dispute and find an alternative to physical confrontation. The “Symposium on the Narita Airport Problem” met 15 times. When it ended, farmers and officials convened the “Narita Round Table Talks,” which were held 12 times between September 1993 and October 1994. Through these face-to-face discussions both sides agreed to renounce the use of force and negotiate in good faith.

In July 1991, the Narita Airport Corporation began building a second runway inside Toho Hamlet. However, protests forced the Corporation to cease work. Then, in December 1996, the Transport Ministry announced it would complete the project by the year 2000, a date it subsequently revised to March 2001. In May 1999, ignoring the wishes of Toho residents, it suddenly announced it would finish the second runway by June 2002. This is the same attitude the authorities displayed over 33 years ago when they dropped their original bombshell. Once again, they failed to obtain the consent of local residents. Their current attitude seems to be: If you don’t sell up, we’ll build a runway right up to your front door. Having been bullied for over 33 years the residents of Toho Hamlet are unlikely to give in to this latest round of intimidation.

The second runway will effect eight families, or a total of 36 people, that live and work in the Toho hamlet. In addition, 14 employees commute to the hamlet every day from nearby villages. Five dogs and eight cats complete the community, not to forget 6,000 hens and 40 ducks. Toho Hamlet has a vegetable packing center, chicken farms, a pickle factory, an organic compost center, a lodging house, a hamlet shrine, and a cemetery. An old unpaved road runs through the hamlet, built by the farmers who first homesteaded the land here after World War II.

Due to resistance from the inhabitants of Toho Hamlet and their refusal to sell their land, the project to build a second Narita runway has had to be repeatedly revised. Originally aiming for a 2,500-meter runway with completion by March 2001, the airport will now have to make do with a runway shortened to 2,180 meters with the whole site shifted by some 800 meters. But worse than this, if the runway is actually built, its southern end will abut on three homes, three chicken farms, the vegetable packing center, the pickle factory, the lodging house, and some fields.

Airplanes continually taking off and landing at very low altitudes directly above the homes and farms — with the accompanying noise, high-intensity vibrations, jet exhaust fumes, and the constant threat of falling debris — will make life in the hamlet intolerable. Even before the first airplane takes off, however, the building of access roads and related prefectural projects will bring the disrupting influence of heavy construction right to the eaves of the hamlet’s houses and the edge of their fields. In short, the new runway is nothing less than a threat to the continued existence of the Toho community.

People may ask why the farmers don’t just sell their land and move to a different location. Or perhaps, why the farmers can’t just step aside in the interests of smooth travel for the legions of passengers who use Narita yearly. To find out about the deeply entrenched views of the farmers, Tokyo Journal sat down with Noriko Ishii, one of 10 female supporters who married into the Toho community some 25 years ago. Ms. Ishii was a student when the fight against the airport was at its height. In the ‘70s a lot of students sympathized with the plight of the farmers and showed their support by helping to protect the land.

 

 


Ms. Ishi who married into the Tokyo farming community

tj: Ms. Ishii, would you accept a reasonable payment from the government to abandon the land?

Noriko Ishii: To answer this, you need to understand farming and what it means to be a member of a farm community. Take the soil for instance. Farm land is different from a piece of commercial land. Each plot of farm land has its history and its unique micro-ecology; it is a combination of complex natural and human factors that have interacted over time. The degree of exposure to the sun, soil quality, the direction and strength of prevailing winds, the depth of the water table, the extent of frost mean that no two plots of farm land are the same. Even on the same parcel, some areas are marshy, others well-drained. An old farmer who lived in the hamlet used to say, “It takes about 10 years before you really get a feel for the land.” It takes many years of being in constant contact with a piece of farm land, and observing it, before one knows which crops are best suited to it, which crops should be rotated on it and which should not. Each parcel has its own unique requirements, and it takes time, effort and patience to recognize what those are.


Readers wishing to show their support for the farmers of Toho Hamlet may do so by joining their list of satisfied customers for organic vegetables.

Once registered with the One-Pack Group, products will be delivered to your door once a week.

Call Ms. Ishi
at 0476-32-0327
for details.

tj: Are you using organic farming, and since when?

shii: In the early 1970s we began farming with organic methods. That was before organic foods were popular in Japan. Mixing chicken manure, seedcake, and rice bran with the soil, we made compost. Spreading the compost on our fields promoted the growth of microorganisms, worms and a multitude of earth-dwelling insects whose excrement further enriched the land, producing a particularly fertile organic soil. All of the fields now being threatened by the construction of the second runway are organic fields that we have gradually built up over many years.

tj: But wouldn’t it make you feel good to sacrifice your community life for the sake of the safe travel of millions of Japanese? Doesn’t the airport need a second runway to reduce congestion?

Ishii: In the eyes of the Toho farmers the airport as it stands now is very well equipped to handle heavy traffic such as during Golden Week and New Year’s holidays. There is no need for a second runway, especially not for such a short runway (2,180 m) that is only suitable for mid-sized planes, not for those commonly used for international flights.

tj: If all goes as planned according to the Airport Authority (Kuko Kodan), your community will be almost completely surrounded by up to 6-m high walls and will have to endure airplanes flying as low as 20 to 40 meters above your heads. Doesn’t that make you want to move?

Ishii: Of course, under these circumstances, the Kuko Kodan would love to get rid of us as soon as possible. How the noise and pollution will affect our health nobody can say. Noise levels will be up to 95 dB, with 80 flights per day after completion of the new runway.

Capture for map below:
Yellow – Owned by Toho farmers
Pink – Planned local road system
Green – Jet blast protection walls
Blue – Runways and taxiways

carved in skin


Art can quite literally get under your skin sometimes. Especially when applied under the pressure of up to 36 specially sharpened needles. Dr D. Vice visited the studio of top Japanese tattoo artist Horitoshi, looked into the eye of the needle, pricked up his ears, and finally got the point.

Dr D. Vice: When and how did tattooing in Japan get started?

Horitoshi: According to the “Gishi-wajin-den” (an ancient Chinese Wei dynasty account of the early Japanese), the people of the Japanese archipelago already used tattooing some 1200 years ago as a means to identify tribes or for religious reasons. The Ainu, the indigenous people of Japan, used tattoos to prevent evil spirits from entering the human body. Traditional Japanese tattoo, the art that I am practicing today, can be traced back about 300 years to the mid-Edo period. Back then, prisoners were being tattooed according to their crimes for easy identification. After their release, these ex-convicts would seek the services of specialists (irezumi-shi) who would tattoo flowers or other patterns over or around the prison marks in order to conceal their past. Over time more complicated patterns evolved, developing into elaborate full-body designs and finally becoming an art form. However, in the old days the ex-convicts as well as their tattooists were generally regarded as outlaws or yakuza. It is only recently, through exchange with western-style tattoo art, that the traditional Japanese tattoo is being recognized as an art form and is slowly shedding its stigma.

 

ddv: Through these western influences getting a tattoo in Japan has become quite fashionable in recent years. Today you can see young kids, even young women, sporting all kinds of tattoos — all part of an ongoing body modification trend . . .

h: Yes, but these are mostly western-style tattoos done by machine that can be done within a few hours. That is completely different from what I am doing. Some of my full-body tattoos take up to five years to complete.

ddv: What about firefighters? Don’t they have some kind of tattoo tradition too?
h: In the Edo period many firefighters (hikeshi) had tattoos that were meant to protect them. Their work was quite dangerous, climbing up on roofs and high places to locate fires. They had to be very courageous, and tattoos were believed to raise their spirits.

ddv: What about the actual technique used in traditional Japanese tattoo?
h: Japanese traditional tattoo is all done by hand. However, due to contact with foreign tattoo artists I have recently started using machines for doing the sujibori (outlining work). The machine makes outlining easier and faster, and even allows for much smoother lines than would be possible by hand. All the rest, all the coloring and so on, I am still doing by hand. That’s why some of my more complex works can take several years to complete. ddv: How did you become involved in this art? h: I am originally from Sapporo, Hokkaido. The first time I came to Tokyo, I was only 15 years old. Very early on I started to get my own tattoos and most of the people around me had tattoos of one form or other.
I started in earnest to study the craft when I was about 21 years old. I basically learned it all by myself. A friend of mine, who had started irezumi two years before me, was also a good source of information and help. It took me ten years before I could support myself as an irezumi artist. And it took me even more years before I truly mastered the art.

 

ddv: Are you passing on your art to others?

h:My son, Horitoshi II, already operates his own studio. And at present I have about 17 deshi (apprentices).
Young people today can acquire their skills much easier than before. In my time, I had to work with trial and error, often using my own skin to try out some new technique or new type of pigment and so on. My friends and I also used to tattoo each other a lot, and in the process ended up with lots of mistakes. I had to do everything myself, looking for the most suitable type of needle, getting black ink, mixing the right colors, selecting designs. Today’s apprentices don’t have to worry about this. It’s all here. They just have to watch me work.

ddv:How do you select your deshi?
h:There is no exam or anything like that, but I do study an applicant’s resume and take a good look at them. I know by looking at a person if he is suitable to work under me. There is no point in having people that quit, so I am very careful to choose students that I feel will stay until they have fully mastered what I can teach them. Out of ten students there may be one who resigns within the first three years.

ddv:Are your deshi living with you?
h:My students only visit the studio for two or three days a week. Everybody comes at designated times on designated days. For example, this boy here [points to his attendant] comes to the studio today and tomorrow from 11a.m. to 11p.m. They all do other jobs to pay for their rent and food.

ddv: Any special curriculum for your apprentices?
h: For the first three months the new deshi must learn proper manners and etiquette. If I tell them to clean, they must clean. If I tell them to do this and that, they must do this and that. Next I teach them sterilization. After six months they may start actual tattooing under me. They will continue for another three years. Students who haven’t reached perfection after that may stay on for another two years. Before, I did not let my students handle the needle for the first three years. All I taught them were manners and etiquette. Today, they handle the needle after six months by tattooing each other. They have an easier life now, except that they still have to stay here many hours.

 

   ddv: Do many of your students open a studio of their own?

h: Not so many. There are only five or six that have done so. And then there is the “Horitoshi family” — one in Taiwan, and one in San Fancisco. Though they haven’t gone through the deshi system, they follow my style and I consider them like kind of younger brothers.

ddv: How do your customers find you?
h: A lot of it is by word of mouth, but people also contact me because they have read about me in magazine articles and like my style.

ddv: How do customers decide on a certain type of tattoo?
h: The first step is a meeting where they can look at my design samples. There is a common misperception that the kind of tattoo that I do can be done within a matter of hours or perhaps days. However, applying the tattoo by hand, just a few square centimeters actually requires an hour of painstaking work. Then there are some customers who think they can get a full-body tattoo within a one-year period although in reality it will take about five years. For example, the customer you just saw visits three times a week. He chose a design with nine dragons. He has already been coming here for over one year, and we haven’t even started the fifth dragon yet. It will take another year before I can start applying the color. Altogether this tattoo will take five years at the current pace.

ddv: How many customers are visiting you a day, and how much time do you spend with each?
h: Currently, I have three customers coming here three times a week, and then there are other customers that come at more infrequent intervals. Depending on my physical condition, I work on a customer for 60 to 90 minutes. I cannot spend too long on a customer because I have to attend several customers a day. For example, today I worked on the first customer for 90 minutes, then another for 150 minutes. At my age, the appropriate workload is four customers a day, 90 minutes per customer, or six to seven hours a day. Some customers request sessions that last two or three hours, but I decline this as much as I can. Towards the end of such marathon sessions my concentration becomes less, and then I am not satisfied with the result of my work.

ddv: Do a lot of customers quit before the tattoo is complete?
h: A lot. Approximately 80% give up prematurely.

ddv: Is it because the customers are losing interest, are running out of money, or cannot stand the pain?
h: It takes a certain amount of character to endure the pain and to see the work to completion. After a few sessions I can usually see whether a person will be strong enough to finish what was started. Also, if a person cannot stand pain, then I cannot do a good job. It is very hard to do a good tattoo while the person wriggles and moans in pain.

ddv: How much does it hurt?
h: Very much. Do you want to try?
Another reason why people are quitting is that they are moving to a different part of Japan. In such a case they maybe seek out another hori-shi (traditional tattoo artist) in another town. In fact, some of my present customers’ tattoos were started by other hori-shi.

ddv: How many needles do you use?
h: It depends on the type of work and on the particular part of the body. It is anywhere between 5 or 6 to 35 or 36 needles.

ddv: Are there any work-related hazards to your health?
h: You get very tired from the work. Sitting on the floor for hours at a time, the knees become very tired. Actually, my knees have become so weak, that I can only walk a short distance before they start to give me trouble. The constant needling motion gives you stiff shoulders, and the wrist is also prone
to inflammation.

ddv: How about your eyes?
h: Not so much. Anyway the eyes are going to get tired whether you use machines or tattoo by hand. It depends on how many hours you work.

ddv: Is it difficult to “draw” on a living, three-dimensional canvass?
h: Some hori-shi are using paper as a template on the skin. However, I draw completely freehand. Because my drawings are very complicated, they also make me tired very easily. In any case, the first task is the sujibori (doing the outlines). After that, the gradations and colors will follow.

ddv: Artists working in oil can usually change their mind and redo certain parts of their paintings without any penalty in terms of quality. But once ink is etched into skin, there is no return, is there?
h: Irezumi requires full concentration. You cannot allow the smallest mistake. A master at my level cannot make a mistake. Someone who tattoos his friend, and ends up drawing a hand with six fingers, can always apologize. But if a customer is paying money . . . !

ddv: What type of ink do you use?
h: Because people in Japan always used the same ink for writing, the black ink hasn’t changed much for the last 300 years.

ddv: Over the last 300 years, has anything changed at all?
h: The method of disinfecting has changed dramatically. In the Edo period, they used alcohol. Then, in the Meiji period they started sterilization by boiling. Nowadays sterilizers commonly used in hospitals are the norm.

ddv: What characterizes the design?
h: Many of the designs are based on stories taken from Japanese history and mythology. I want young people to always remember and appreciate traditional Japanese design. I don’t like to mix in western elements. I don’t want Japanese design to vanish. I want my students to inherit my style and respect traditional irezumi.

ddv: What about the colors?
h: Today, most of the pigments used for creating colors are imported. Maybe there are Japanese pigments, but it will take a long time before I can use them on my customers. I must try them on my own skin to test whether the color will fade. I need at least one year to test. Look here [Horitoshi shows his left leg full of color spots], I tested colors on my leg before. Young people today don’t have to do this.

ddv: Do you develop special relationships with your customers, after seeing them several times a week for many years?
h: I have a group called “Horitoshi-mutsumi,” people who have received a tattoo from me. We get together once a year or so. Of course not all customers will attend all the time. Out of 100 customers, perhaps only 20 or 30 people come.

ddv: Horitoshi sensei, thank you very much for your time.
h: You are welcome. tj

The design chosen by Hideto Yoshida depicts a scene from Susanoo no Mikoto, a deity in Japanese mythology. Susanoo no Mikoto is known as the younger brother of the sun goddess Amaterasu Omikami. The tattoo shows Susanoo with an eight-headed, eight tailed dragon.

new millennium ninja

new millennium ninja the secret art

The ninja were so successful at keeping their arts, methods and activities in the background of history that they almost wiped themselves out of it. To find myths, folklore, ancient texts and even cartoons related to the ninja and their art is easy in modern Japan. Finding something that still has a basis in reality is next to impossible. Ancient texts are written in codes or flowery language that to this day historians cannot understand. This reinforces the popular, present day, mistaken stereotype of what the ninja really were and what they really did. Through time people tend to forget that history, folklore and legends all have a basis in reality. These super humans were human beings.

Entering the 34th Grandmaster’s training hall is an experience. The eyes are greeted by paintings, pictures, green tatami, and a huge assortment of exotic weapons. Near the ceiling on the far wall, shrines are dedicated to the ancestors of the nine martial lineages the grandmaster inherited from his teacher. He is a ninja. His name is Dr. Masaaki Hatsumi.

A medical doctor in the science of bone setting, and a master in the art of Koppojutsu . . . the warrior science of smashing the bones and attacking the sensitive points of the human body. He is a living paradox.

The Grandmaster acts in a relaxed and carefree manner, not like a wizard casting spells or a drill sergeant training his men to die for a cause. He is light, quick, and smooth with conversation, at times even a comedian.

Our meeting seemed destined to take place as Hatsumi Sensei spontaneously hands us a recent photograph of himself posing with his awards from the Imperial Family. An honor that has been bestowed upon less than one hundred people since the close of WWII. The royalty of Japan not only recognized Dr. Hatsumi as a true grandmaster of a ninja tradition but as the only living one left in the world.

But to him it is more important to lead a simple life than to be overly concerned with history and tradition. He stresses the essence of the art of the ninja, a way of life with rules like any other. The rules of the ninja are simple:

* The ninja’s primary goal is to use the art to gain entry into enemy territory, gather as much information as possible to prepare a strategy and return without ever being detected.
It is a natural instinct to deceive to survive. It can be seen everywhere in biological life.

* The ninja should always strive for righteousness through acts of justice and reflect on the betterment of his soul for his teacher and parents.
* Ninjutsu emphasizes deception. It is best to confuse your enemy by spying, stealth and investigation when planning an effective strategy.
* Secrecy was a matter of life and death. Anyone who betrayed the group to which he belonged was killed, along with close relatives.
* A ninja must not kill others, hurt innocent people or steal for personal profit or pleasure.
* Fitness must be maintained at an optimal level.
* Arts such as music, painting, poetry, singing and dancing should be enthusiastically pursued.
* The ninja is expected to train intensively in a myriad of areas: weapon skills, unarmed fighting methods, strategic analysis, covert building entry methods, swimming, improvisation, escape and evasion, disguise, chemistry, meteorology and geography to name just a few.

These are the rules the ninja must live by, 900 years ago and today. Of course pupils do not train as intensively today as their predecessors in the Iga and Koga areas of Japan during the long periods of civil war, but the essence of the teachings from the many masters is readily applicable to today, nearly a thousand years later. To master the art of Ninjutsu and remain healthy (physically and mentally) all pupils must abide by these rules. Those who break them will surely lead themselves to the grave or go insane. The grandmaster often compares his art to the sciences. Just as drugs can be used to hurt or heal and technology can create or destroy, so too can the ninja’s art be misused for personal gain or a desire for adventure.

During our break for tea, Hatsumi Sensei sat with the Tokyo Journal for an interview. No prepared speeches or preplanned thoughts. Relaxed with a microphone in front of him the master smiles away full of confidence. He is used to this by now with tens of thousands of practitioners worldwide. Being interviewed and photographed is a regular part of life.

tj: Sensei is it true that you are the last true Ninjutsu grandmaster in the world?
mh: No I am not the last, I have all of my students (laughter)! The Bujinkan is here and alive. This is important for everyone to understand. I am not the last, actually my master was the last active ninja and he has passed away.

tj: Why did this come to be? Why did many samurai styles survive while Ninjutsu almost died out forever? Was it all the wars in Japanese history?
mh: No, it was not the wars. It was the long period of peace commonly called the Edo period. It fell into disuse and was no longer needed. Ninjutsu is a true combat orientated martial art that takes a whole lifetime to master. I guess that there became fewer and fewer people who liked this type of thing..

tj: How did the three ninja schools of the nine martial art lineages you head now survive this period of peace?
mh: People who really loved and cared for the martial arts, who cared for the art of the ninja, not people making a living from it are responsible. You raise and take care of the things that you love right? It’s natural right? That is why I worked as a bonesetter. I didn’t make the martial arts my living. I really love Ninjutsu and the martial arts. This is why I have cared for it and kept it alive. It is important to keep this aspect of our culture alive for future generations and for the good of all humanity. For many generations spanning over 900 years, ninja have passed on their experiences and lessons of life and death, of how to survive and endure. I would like to protect these treasures for future generations, let people understand these lessons and if they can be of any use or value to them in their own lives I will be happy.

tj: So it is important not to teach the martial arts or Ninjutsu as one’s living or profession?
mh: No, no, you can! That is fine with me. I don’t mind either way! What is important is the caring for what you are teaching. A kind of respect for what you are teaching. It is important to protect important things, for humanity’s sake. Nowadays people who have the desire to look after such important cultural treasures are becoming fewer and fewer. One of the most beautiful things about human beings is the ability to care and love, to want to protect and the ability to protect. In Japanese this is called ningensei. So I believe, to really care for the art and protect it is what matters the most. It was the same in any other period of time, not just today. This is what has always been the essence of our art.

tj: How is your Bujinkan Dojo different from the other martial arts out there today?
mh: It has not been changed from its traditional form or turned into a sport. Also the concept of change and variation; in old days flint and steel were scraped together to make a fire and now a lighter gives the same result. This is what has kept my art alive and why I am able to use pistols, rifles or any other modern weapon. This type of thinking is also what makes my art different.

tj: Did you study many other martial arts before you met your grandmaster, Takamatsu Sensei?
mh: Yes, it was in this way that I came to meet him.

tj: Was Takamatsu Sensei famous?
mh: He was famous within the professional martial arts community. There were many strong and famous fighters at the time but none of them could even be compared to him. You could say he was the master of all masters..

tj: Did Takamatsu Sensei fight in World War II?
mh: No, he was in China for ten years and had many fight-to-the-death battles. He even received the death penalty three times while he was there, obviously escaping every time. The reason he did not go to war was he had injured one eye during a fight in his youth and could not hear in one ear. These injuries prevented him from becoming a soldier.

tj: Was his intention to go to China to make money?
mh: He held many jobs there including construction..

tj: Some say he was a spy?
mh: Well, a spy? Hmmm? What would you call it, let me see . . . he did do those types of things, yes. He was friends with the last emperor, and protected him.

tj: Now you have many students across the world, what do you see for the future of your tradition?
mh: Ahh! They have all become great people! Many of them have really started to come to understand my art. That is why I traveled the world for many years teaching. I wanted people to understand this art, I did not go to spread the martial arts. It was enough to let them see what real Ninjutsu is and along the way I met some truly beautiful people. The art’s future is in good hands. They have become a strong group.

tj: Congratulations on your awards from the Imperial Family!?
mh: Thank you very much. I feel grateful because I was honored with the Kokusai Eiyosho (International Achievement Award) and the Shakai Bunka Korosho (Society & Culture Distinguished Service Award). In over fifty years since the end of the war only ninety-two people have received this.

tj: Are non-Japanese pupils allowed to study your art even to the deepest levels?
mh: No problem! All are the same! I have no borderline! But pupils must be pure of heart or they just disappear. Isn’t Ninjutsu an amazing thing? People with a bad heart eventually go away. My art can only come to live in those who have a good heart.

tj: The last question is not directly concerned with the martial arts, but what do you think about the future of mankind? Will mankind be able to endure and survive the next 1000 years? Nuclear War? Chemical Weapons? Pollution of the planet?
mh: What mankind must do to survive is to observe and correct each other! Help each other educationally, scientifically, in physics and even in the arts of war. That’s why I often say that my training hall is a place for correction and reflection. It is important for us to correct each other! To tell each other “hey that’s not right!” when it is valid to do so. Mankind must also learn balance. Balance with the planet. Nature’s balance. And to do this we need to help each other, we really need patience and endurance. This is the martial arts!
The martial arts provide a method for self-defense, fitness and spiritual growth. All animals in nature have their own way of defending themselves. Human beings were blessed by a superior intellect and dominated the animal kingdom with the arts of war. To protect our community, family and self from danger needs no justification. Human beings are the only animals that can choose to be passive or aggressive, but the determining factors should always be righteousness and love. To break the law of nature and use the martial arts for personal desire of power, fame, or money can only lead to the destruction of the self.

born under a wandering star

born under a wandering star
by Michael McDonagh

As Tony and Maureen Wheeler sat at their kitchen table in Sydney in 1973, preparing what was to become the first Lonely Planet guide, Across Asia on the Cheap, they couldn’t have imagined the extent of the journey on which they were embarking.

 
 
 

The couple met on a bench in Regent’s Park in London in 1970, got married a year later, bought a minivan for around ¥10,000 and set off on an overland journey from London through Asia to Australia. They only intended to travel for a year and then settle down but when they finally arrived in 03, with just 27 cents between them, they were bombarded with so many questions — no doubt from Aussies with the urge to get out from down under and see the rest of the world — the ready-made audience inspired them to turn their diaries into a book. The first print-run of 1500 copies, hand-sorted, trimmed and stapled by the authors and hawked around the bookshops of Sydney, sold out in the first week. Thirty years and 55 million copies later, Lonely Planet guidebooks still manage to retain some of that personal touch. The attention to detail, gleaned from first-hand experience, is one of the keys to their phenomenal success. “These days you can do an awful lot of research just sitting at your desk and clicking on yet another website,” comments Tony Wheeler. “But at the end of the day what makes our guidebook better than another is writers getting out there and pounding the streets, wearing out shoes, trying out things personally. You can’t fake it.”

Lonely Planet has published over 1500 different guides including titles as diverse as Trekking In East Africa, Cycling Cuba and the Ethiopian Amharic Phrasebook. “What started out as a rather appropriate way to help fund our next big trip has morphed into an organization with offices in Melbourne, San Francisco, London and Paris,” explains Wheeler. The company currently employs more than 400 staff publishing 600 titles in 17 languages and has spawned a television series, Lonely Planet Six Degrees, and an award-winning website, www.lonelyplanet.com, which receives over 2 million individual hits a month.

All things considered it’s probably safe to surmise that Tony and Maureen no longer travel in the way in which we have become accustomed through their books, but they still remain thoroughly engaged in every stage of the process of producing the guides. Wheeler himself spends around six months a year road-testing new editions.
The progress of Lonely Planet’s evolution from cottage industry to market leader has paralleled and hastened changing travel habits. Lower airfares, young people with more time and money on their hands and dissatisfaction with homogenous package tours and holiday resorts has spawned an army of independent travelers wandering around the globe, Lonely Planet in hand.

Tourism wasn’t the huge industry thirty years ago that it is now. Lonely Planet’s first guides used to include things like “if you get to this island in Indonesia, walk down the main street to the docks, turn left, there’s a house there and a man called Wayan will take you to . . .” Of course they can’t put things like that in now, because 20,000 people will turn up, all looking for Wayan.

Success has helped make an alternative the norm. Clutching a Lonely Planet guide makes us feel like Indiana Jones in the same way a Michelin guide induces the illusion of being a gourmet & connoisseur. Self-styled travelers find themselves merely one of a horde of adventurers descending en masse for a hill tribe trek in Thailand, the tribe solely devoted to catering to the crowds that Lonely Planet bring stomping to their door. A few years ago I was amused to find myself in a Western-style restaurant in Delhi sheepishly sipping an expensive milkshake and waiting for a veggie lasagna and chips, in a room full of fellow travelers, all of us with our Lonely Planet guides on the table, all relieved to be somewhere certified clean and tasty to take a break from the adventure raging outside.

Tony Wheeler concedes the point that DIY holidays are as unique as assemble-yourself-furniture but maintains, “that it’s still remarkably easy to escape the crowds and have your own adventure.” On the subject of well-trodden paths he emphasizes “everyone’s trip, especially the first, is an adventure. The people you meet, the streets that you walk down, the feelings and emotions you get from that, they’re yours — it doesn’t matter how many people are there.”

Times change, as do demographics and technology. The baby boomers are retiring, society is graying and technology is impacting on the publishing business. Wheeler foresees a boom in activity-related holidays — yoga, cooking, surfing, hiking and the like. He also reckons the day is fast approaching when PDF file guides are downloaded at the airport with a swipe of a credit card. That day may already have passed. Lonely Planet is developing WAP sites, palm pilots and mobile phone guides.

For all the changes the essence of travel remains the same. “I’m a firm believer in the value of travel,” says Wheeler. “In a world of misunderstandings and suspicions, travel is the best possible way of turning our misconceptions upside down.”