A note on impressions of Tokyo

[18 million people - the city goes all the way to the horizon - have a click and a look]

I'm loving Tokyo, and its great to be here with a colleague too, especially a very very nice colleague which Patrick is. I think this is without doubt the tidiest, politest, most civilized and refined place that I've ever been. It's indescribably fantastic, and the people enormously cool, and friendly, and hugely groovy (Japanese clothing, for example, and this is not something that I particularly notice, is fabulous, and stylish - so many styles - so many combinations of styles). The politeness of people is stunning, and lifting. I never thought that something like that would make a real impact on me, I suppose I've just found most places to be quite similar (perhaps if ruder in driving, then more polite in supermarkets... that kind of minor difference) but Tokyo is outstanding. To illustrate, just one example from many: we went to a meeting, the man we met was lovely, sharp, and very gentle. We really enjoyed the meeting. At the end of the meeting he took us back to the lifts to say goodbye, we got in, and you know how you get into a lift, but then turn around and face the doors, and he stood outside the lift and bowed when the doors were closing. Where on earth are people like that elsewhere? And it's my impression of the way people everywhere talk, and buy things and interact - all super-polite, lots of bowing, and 100% zero aggro. I had read that it's considered rude to talk on a mobile phone on the subway platform, in the train, basically in public places other than walking along the street. OK, but how truley observed is that? Well I've not seen anyone talking on a phone in any of those places. I went into a Starbucks to get a coffee fix before coming up here to write you this note - no one in Starbucks is talking on their phone (you are with people, pay attention to them). This whole thing has made me think a lot about what it means to be a man, and how this is interpreted differently in different places, and not just the big pitcture (like different cultures) but also within places. I'm mindful of the sort of man that different schools see one becoming, for example. So there was a particular set of things that encompassed being a man when I was at school, and some of them were quite at odds with each other. So there was a formal politeness that being a man meant; you had to stand up when a woman entered the room; you had to greet people (who were in positions of authority - which was generally conferred by age - so "Good morning Sir", walking past a teacher in the corridor, or "Good morning Ma'm". But then, peversely, it was also a culture of bullying and power, where might was right, and matric boys had "skivvies", junior boys who acted as servants, and who were in many instances mal-treated. And there was a lot of conquering sort of stuff, and sport was very much interpreted this way, where you had the people who were in the first team elevated socially, particularly with rugby, that most conquering of sports, where the rest of the school had to go and watch first team rugby matches, and sing war cries (such aptly named things, in the context of this). And the subtext of all this, played out off the rugby field all the time, was also that might was right, and the mighty held sway over the rest (some of the mighty were mighty good with their fists; some mighty because they had authority conferred apon them (some prefects, for example) and interpreted this authority as might. For me, this brand of maleness, the way of being a man that involves control and conquering and being right about things, being respected, and holding others to account is so unhelpful to this planet and this species of ours going forward. It seems that we need people, and that means men who are communicators and contributors, who worry about respecting rather than being respected, who ask questions rather than impose answers, who try to offer accountabilty rather than demand it of others. What has made me think about this particularly is seeing you in South Africa, and now coming to Japan. It seems you are at a great school, that offers opportunities to grow into yourself, rather than telling you what to be; it seems that you are making such good use of that; you seem to me to be gentle and gracious, and thoughtful of others. And coming here to Japan, I can see a collective of gentility and graciousness, and I like the way it feels; it seems to make sense. So, this little city of 18 million people (it is just HUGE) has the feel of something much gentler to me, as an early observer. And why not. I'm told the Japanese have the smallest carbon footprint per person in the developed world, for example. How's that for not conquering, and instead contributing.

Something that I think you would have liked ...

Monochrome expressions of Evan - thinking of you

Let me start by saying that while these photos are of Evan (they seem to be a set) what's written here is about you, and how I perceived you on that fantastic night of the sixteenth of October, 2009. It was amazing, a delight, a terrific fascination seeing you Josh. You felt to me so calm and strong and grown, with a fabulous balance of seriousness and humour (one of lifes engrossing challenges, it seems: what to take utterly to heart, and what to see the funny side in). If indeed this is how you are increasingly feeling, I really hope that it is something that you are proud of (in the positive sense of the word - not the sense that it is warned against by at least two major religions; I mean it here as quietly confident, humbly satisfied, reassured, self-affirmed) because yours has been very much a journey against the grain, uphill, windswept. And that is why I said to you, your mom would have been so delighted, so utterly delighted by you, indeed amazed, I'm sure. I talked to my beautiful friend Steven D recently. We laughed that we are at this forty age, which in it's own way means so little and so much; so little because you know if you are fortunate enough to live to be something older than that - you might look back and think how young you were, and how much you had still to experience and learn (this has happened to me throughout, so I see no reason to think that it would abruptly stop now in recognition of a particular calendar point). But it means so much too, because there is this nagging sense, a hint, a whiff of suggestion on the air, that maybe you have become everything that you are going to become, and my god is it not so entirely unexceptional? So for me to see someone as young as you are, and again it's all perspective, and so from my perspective, going on sixteen is young (it must be, because you got there so fast) but yet you have such an ease about you it seems to me, such a purpose and quiet wisdom; an increasing comfort in your own skin. And I think that is something profound, and something worth working for and thinking about and jelously guarding - self knowledge and confidence - the jet fuel of opportunity. And in case you think I've got depressed or defeatist - Ive not at all - and I think (certainly hope) that discovery and reinvention of purpose and potential does not stop at forty, or sixty, or eighty for that matter - because I think it is the real business of living, rather than just existing. And one of the things that I like and admire about little Ev at the moment is his unposed authenticity, and hence my choice of this set of photos for my note to you here (I could however shoot myself for not taking a thousand pictures of you - they would be such treasures to have).

I feel it has been much too long since I saw you, and I'm sorry about that. And this was far too short, and in many ways an artificial setting - but I am so thankful for those moments too. I saw briefly some special people in my life in Jhb and Cape Town - some of them for the first or second time in 8, 10, 15 years. And experiences change all before them - no doubt - the longer the time the greater the wealth of experience.