Small and quiet

It's a cliché, but in general the Japanese are small compared to north-west-Europeans. Small in almost everything, in length, in foot size, in steps when they walk, in space that they claim around themselves, in the movements they make, in noise that they make, in cars that they use and in living space. The population of this island empire (app.126 million)  is mostly concentrated in the coastal areas, where there are some flat spaces to build and live on. This is only a very small part of the country and for this reason they live very close to each other, often in very big cities. Consequently there is very little private space per capita available. So - still generally speaking - houses are small and in the house the rooms are small. And parking spaces for their cars are small. Now it's my observation that they are car-lovers. No wonder, they produce the best brands of cars in the world. Now some of you will start staggering and mumbling words like 'German' etc., but just check the statistics: Japanese cars prevail.

So what choice do car owners have when they belong to this generic type? Own a small car, it seems obvious. And small doesn't always mean small in capacity. Although you see all kinds of cars the number of compact space cars are great. These cars are 2.5 meters long, 1.5 meters wide and have the hight of a man. Like driving biscuit boxes. Suzuki even has a model namen N-box, so there's no beating around the bush here. Small boxes that can transport the whole Japanese family any place!

One more striking phenomenon here: it's quiet! Cars hardly make any noise as they drive quietly, you don't hear people shouting (there are not many people about), there's no loud music, no hassle. As far as we know Japan now we find it a pretty silent place. 

How to pray in a shinto-shrine

we walked through this typical Japanese arch onto the premises of what we soon learned was a shinto-shrine. Various wooden buildings with the beautiful bent tiled roofs, some with entrances behind a row of similar arches. Various people performing rituals. Among other stone statues there was also a "Manneke Pis". We looked at all this with interest, when a man addressed us. If we would be interested to know more about praying in a shrine like this, and before we had answered he assured us that it was no temple. His English was rather modest, but we learned a lot. The Shinto religion knows various gods, a bit similar to the Greek gods, we were told. These gods are like humans, they have their good and their less good qualities. They do not punish when a beleiver has done wrong. They will question the wrong-doer about his motif, not judge him. Quite contrary to most monotheist religions that the world knows. The man was very particular about how prayers should be done. He handed us over a scheme that is meant to make it clear to the foreigner (see photo). And indeed, as he performed the ritual for us, it became clear.

Not very difficult at all: check the note he gave us. Walk up to the shrine and donate a coin (very little amount) in the big bowl or stone jar, then pull the bell cord hard so that the bell strikes loudly, make 2 deep bows, clap your hands twice and loud, then say your prayer (= express your hopes), make one bow again, step backwards and leave. Done.

He had developed a formula as to make it easy for the novice: CB22P1, obvious after checking the note:

Is it a ball.....?

No....., it's a work of art by Anish Kapoor and at first sight, when you walk up to it, it looks like a huge ball. We saw it in the Museum of Asian Art in Fukuoka, Japan.

No ball, but a deep blue, 2 meters wide, round and hollow thing. We were impressed.

Right on time

for the first spring blossoms. We arrived at Fukuoka airport on a cold afternoon and in the evening we made a shivering walk to the park near our hotel. The next morning it was sunny and nice and in the park, the former location of a samurai castle, the first of the hundreds of japanese cherry trees were blossoming. Preparations are being made for the national mania here, picnicking and partying under the blossoming trees. It's obvious that the people here have a deep connection with this outing of spring, we notice it's in the air. Now this is only the beginning, we are looking forward to the next few weeks.

On the road again

Here we go again. Next week we'll fly to Fukuoka on the island of Kyushu, south Japan. There we intend to ride round the island and get a glimpse of the cherry blossoms before crossing by ferry to South-Korea, where we will make a round tour as well.
There will be regular blogs by myself and by Eveline (click in the right column) and the photos will be posted daily if possible (click in the right column).
Below the intended routes (roughly):

Back home

As I mentioned before Viñales, though the village was quite convivial, was a bit of a dissappointment. After Viñales we rode further west and then turned back eastward, direction Havana. These were nice cycling days. 

Beautiful countryside and dito casas particulares, especially in San Diego de los Baños and Soroa. 

On March 4^th we arrived back in Casa Aléman, our Havana home. We were welcomed with a hug by Yo, the housekeeper and got an even nicer appartment than the one nextdoor, that we had on our first arrival in Cuba. We spent the next two days packing, the bike boxes were still there, a visit to the museums of the Revolution and of Ron (rum), some beers and mojito's on Plaza Vieja and nice dinners in the old city centre.

Our flights home, via Madrid, went well (though they charged us USD 110 extra for the bikes) and now we're back in the usual routine. Which, no worries, is not bad at all.  

Rectification

Cycling in a foreign country makes me aware of the differences in culture, politics and economics in the world. As a matter of fact, it is the only reason why I have always wanted to travel. Rather than base my opinions on the media in my own country I have always felt the need to go and see myself. This made me travel into the communist European countries – behind the iron curtain, which was not easy – in the seventies (seems ages ago now) and to so many other parts of the world. I wanted to see and experience how culture and systems (governments) shape societies and determine the lives of their citizens.

So I did in Cuba. To tell the truth, I loathed the Cuban goverment many times for the results of their policies for the Cubans. Many times I felt pity for the Cubans, for their poverty, for the empty shops, for their waiting, endless waiting.

My mistake is that I compare it to the Netherlands. I know that my country is one the most organised, reliable, free and prosperous countries in the world. So this comparison is unfair.

What I ought to do is compare Cuba with the countries in the region. And then the result is opposite. Haïti, the closest neighbour, is the poorest country in the world. Then there are Nicaragua, Honduras, Mexico, Venezuela, Brasil (a Brasilian couple made this clear to us), countries where there are many homeless people, where crime and corruption are horrandous. The Cubans are a merry and friendly people, all of them have access to education and health care, they are well fed and the middle class is growing. In this comparison Cuba earns the best marks, thumbs up and great compliments, despite the fact that it is no democracy and that the US-bloccade has still not entirely been lifted.

My apologies.

The (too many :-)) photos are now to be seen. Click on the link in the right column.