
CELEBRATING THE SPIRIT OF FILIPINOS IN JAPAN: an online version of Jeepney Press www.jeepneypress.com
Friday, September 24, 2010
Jeepney Press 2010 September-October Issue Page 15

Jeepney Press 2010 September-October Issue Page 16

"Class Reunion"
Jeepney Press 2010 September-October Issue Page 17

Jeepney Press 2010 September-October Issue Page 18

Jeepney Press 2010 September-October Issue Page 20

Jeepney Press 2010 September-October Issue Page 21

Jeepney Press 2010 September-October Issue Page 22

Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Jeepney Press July-August Issue Centerfold

All of us Filipinos living in Japan, at one point in time, would have to address our own personal dilemma of whether it’s time to return to our home country. We will have to ponder if the stay here was worth the while, and what have we done to earn our keep under the sun in this part of the globe. What did we get out from all of these, and, more importantly, what can we give back in return?
In the pilot issue of Jeepney Press a number of years back, we have covered in one of the columns the topic about bridging the two distinct worlds of Japan and the Philippines. In the last issue, we featured a young person’s take on how to partially serve that purpose. Jeepney Press now presents one of its resident writers who actually went back home to contribute in realizing that much needed personal integration in his own right. And, what could be a more sustainable way to reach out and do that than to publish a book about it.
These days, reference to Gino Matibag, MD, PhD, is increasingly becoming synonymous with his literary work, “JAPAN Lights and Shadows.” Aside from being a licensed physician, a seasoned medical and academic researcher, and now a published author, Gino is a traveler at heart. A different one. Yes, he stayed in Japan for about 8 years although he was most often out of the country visiting 12 others and their total of 29 cities. And, yes, without doubt, his highly respected track record and dedication to excellence will most certainly bring him to further myriad locations. But Gino, fundamentally, is otherwise an extraordinary traveler of life. He transforms in every stage he is in. He adapts in every place he has been. He leaves his marks through every task he has done. But what makes him different? He dreams of always making his path a better way for others.
Prior to his life in Japan, he was a medical practitioner for 5 years in the Philippines. Never tiring of furthering his credentials, he also obtained a Master’s Degree in Hospital Administration. But his thirst for answers was not within the confines of credentials. He considers them merely a means to an end aligned towards a more meaningful purpose within a system and environment that would cater to his personal standards. He was on a quest at the time. He needed answers. Not only to take advantage of career opportunities but he was clamoring for a way to test his caliber in a different way. While most medical professionals would be afraid to relinquish their hard earned degrees and field experience, Gino knew he cannot allow that to limit his search for answers. When everyone else entertains the fear of leaving a profession, Gino leverages on it. Sending applications to many various international universities in search of a rightful host, he got a tip from colleagues who used to be Monbusho scholars. Surprisingly, he got a response from Japan, which was not even on the top of his list of options to explore due to language challenges. But as fate would have it, just like it would for people who brave to dare, he accepted the invitation of the Hokkaido University Graduate School of Medicine on September of 2002 as its initial foreign researcher. His arrival in Japan then marked his way to achieving his second doctorate degree in a relatively short span of 4 years, backed by a grant he received from the Japanese government.
The moment he looked around through the window of the first room he settled in upon his arrival, Gino knew it was not just a correct choice, it was the right move. There may be a language barrier but it felt right. And that feeling did not need any language to justify itself. He knew he could create a home for himself here. And so he did. He became a master of something he enjoyed doing – research – and everything that culminated around it, through it, and because of it. He got to travel. A lot. Travels, research, weekend works, community participations, and cultural immersions. All of these comprised his life for years to come until a discovery urged him to face a new turning point. As much as he loved his stay in Japan, it was not enough for Gino to compromise the integrity at risk if he succumbs to a system not known to and by many, both Japanese and foreigners. And, thus, the birth of his literary work where he illuminates his readership with how he sees Japan based on his memoirs.
Gino loves Japan as clearly detailed in his book. He identified himself so much with this country that, in fact, the time he got homesick was when he was back home in his native Philippines. To some, regrets about leaving Japan for the Philippines and not the other way around may be a sign of unpatriotic sentiments. But irony has no place in the mind of a realist. For Gino, his belief that everything happens for a reason was proven true when he claimed that his being in Japan was the biggest factor that helped him learn and deeply understand the Philippines even more, only from a different yet characteristic viewpoint that can only be enjoyed not necessarily by merely visiting a foreign land but specifically by experiencing this unique country. His challenge to relate back to the style of living and social attitudes in Manila is not an indication of colonial mentality. Instead, he takes it as a need to help raise awareness that cultures and best practices can be integrated. It is just a matter of practical acceptance. Just as one will not deny if a loved one is ailing and instead provide cure in the most effective way, Gino aims to find ways to promote, if not provide, possible solutions to what he imbibes as factors that limit our progress. But first and foremost, we need to openly but objectively welcome the gaps between the Philippines and Japan not just in terms of scales of economies but more importantly on the basis of social mindset. This, Gino strongly believes, is a fundamental necessity for a real change.
There are some 120,000 students coming to Japan every year. How many went back to their own countries with a book manifesting what’s real in Japan, Gino wonders. His book surely includes his domestic travels that unfolded the beauty of the country to him but at the end of its 11 chapters, his work was essentially about educating the readers. The main reason for writing the book was not out of commercial purpose but a way for him to allow transparency to take its proper place in a system that does not have the best interest of its working guests at its core. In a land where silence is considered the pure sound of beauty, it can also have a chance of being used to mute an accepted disorder. The book was his way of ensuring that his experiences and academic attainments are used to a more noble extension and be an honest source of realistic wisdom. The book, at its basic core, is about choices.
When asked what will be missed the most if we leave Japan, most of us would opt for infrastructure, pragmatic setups, food, culture and the likes as quick answers. For Gino, it’s the purity of the drinking water famous in Hokkaido. Even for someone who has already been through and accomplished a lot, fundamentals and simplicity of this kind remain to be what gives color to his persona that boldly accepts the challenge to unveil shadows and provides light for others that follow.
And with that, the book may not just be a memoir. It’s about how he welcomes life as he reinvents himself regardless of titles and degrees. It’s about how he reaffirms his faith and fight for his integrity in the face of risks and chances. It’s everything concerning how he made the most of the past, lives in the present, and will move on forward. It’s a testimony of how one learns by taking the chance, dealing with the pains, and sharing the gains. Basically, his work is about what he himself was from the start, and always will be – a researcher of his own passion, a doctor of his own path, and a traveler of life.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Jeepney Press July-August Issue Page 3

Major Convenience Store’s New Dessert Line, Inspired by Filipino Delight
Mini Stop, a major convenience store chain in Japan, famous for its halo-halo, will be selling a new line of dessert packages using Filipino fruits. The tasting of the new product line was done at the Philippine Embassy on June 18 by members of the Philippine Department of Tourism and Embassy members. There was also a surprise visit by former President Ramos, which Mini Stop presented the new sweets to.
The “hit maker,” Ms. Harumi Onodera (dessert and drinks product development manager of Mini Stop) came to know the Philippines during the summer golden pineapple halo-halo campaign that Mini-Stop did with the Philippine Department of Tourism had in 2009. Ms. Onodera says that the Filipino “pelican” mango has a different flavor from that of the most frequently used alfonso mango from India. The pelican mango has a refreshing tartness and fruitiness, which is turned into a mango puree to make a delicious “Pelican Mango Pudding.” The mango is also used in the “Tropical Fruits Parfait,” which you can taste fresh mango, pineapple and nata de coco (all from the Philippines!), with a layer of grapefruit jelly in the bottom to make the creamy parfait so light and appetizing even in a hot summer day.
There is also the “mix fruits and mild pudding,” which was inspired by the favorite Filipino sweets, buko pandan. Instead of using coconut milk, this beautiful piece is made of milk pudding with a tad of coconut flavor that contains tropical fruits, and melon jelly instead of pandan.
The most popular dessert at the tasting was the “caramel banana.” On top of a light caramel cake, there are fresh Filipino bananas covered in caramel sauce, accompanied by whip cream. This was well received even by President Ramos, which he finished during the dinner that day.
These desserts will be sold along with many other sweets using tropical fruits, from July 20 until mid-August. There will also be a raffle campaign with fun prizes during the selling period. Stop by at your nearest Mini Stop this summer to take home the new dessert line, and get a new “flavor” of the Philippines.
Jeepney Press July-August Issue Page 5

“Following the leader, the leader, the leader
We're following the leader wherever he may go
We won't be home till morning, till morning
We won't be home till morning
Because he told us so…”
—from Peter Pan, “Following the Leader”
The road to summer seems like a long journey, after waking up to many months of rainy mornings, hot mid-afternoons, and sleeping through cold nights, on and off, since winter. As of this writing, I have just put away the futon! But, we all know once the summer heat in Japan sweeps in, hot is hot! And, foreigners just can’t wait to take off on their summer holiday. But, how does one really get an easy vacation from working in a Japanese company? Japanese are known for taking the shortest vacations on earth—the average, being from three to five days—and, one week is considered a luxury; two to three weeks, a fortune; one month, either a miracle or your next step to being fired! I know someone who flew from Tokyo to Paris for just one night, just to watch one day of the Paris Roland Garros tennis match, then returned to Tokyo the next morning. Why? Because, he had work.
So, this brings us to the senpai-kohai Japanese tradition of inter-relationships. Yup, senpai-kohai does matter when you want to take a holiday from work, because if you’re a kohai, you have to get your senpai’s permission, and normally your senpai’s vacation schedule is more important than yours, so you have to make sure your schedules don’t conflict; and, if your senpai doesn’t take a holiday off, it’s most likely you’ll be pressured mentally to do the same…well, out of courtesy. We, foreigners, don’t probably realize it but so much of Japanese life is dictated by the senpai-kohai system.
Ano ba itong “senpai-kohai”? It can be literally translated to a senior-junior relationship, like a leader-follower, or a supervisor-subordinate system. This system is uprooted in ALL aspects of Japanese life, and even in ordinary circumstances, it is important to know if the person you are relating with is on a senpai or kohai level. The kanji character for senpai begins with the “sen” character meaning “ahead,” or “first,” and the “ko” character in kohai means “after.” Both have the characters “hai” in the end that means a generation or a lifetime. Just imagine, you are a senpai or kohai for a lifetime! And, it probably is so if you live in Japan!
The senpai-kohai system originated from Confucianism that influences most of the ways of Japanese life, especially in their family systems and civil laws. Confucianism arrived in Japan from 6th-9th century, and became the underlying doctrines of the Tokugawa regime. That is how long the senpai-kohai system has existed. It came from the Chinese system of “cho-ko,” which means loyalty or filial piety. It teaches loyalty to elders, parents, older brothers or sisters. In the traditional family system, the male member is regarded as superior among others, namely, the father as head of the family, and the eldest son, because he is entitled as heir to the family; thus, all members must show him respect. Consequently, respect for senpais extend to superiors in work, to mentors in schools and social groups. In the early days, samurai warriors were trained by their superiors; and, thus, in present days, kohais in sumo, karate, and generally, all sports clubs pay respect to their senpais. And, in most sports associations, you cannot attain opportunities until you become a senpai. Schools in Japan are the best examples of followers of the senpai-kohai system. Lower-grade students look up to the higher-grade students. In school clubs, you can hear the juniors calling the seniors “senpai” instead of using their actual names. You can see the kohais cleaning the floors, running errands for their seniors, or even carrying club equipment for the senpai. They bow diligently with repeated “hai, hai,” and are always afraid to disappoint their senpai. Even after you have graduated from a university, a junior colleague may still call you “senpai,” and, when you meet for a reunion after 10, 20 or 30 years, don’t be surprised to be called still a “senpai” instead of your own name. It is, after all, a lifetime role, remember? Mind you, the kohai is truly loyal to his senpai. He will only do things the senpai tells him to do. In some cases, he also serves him favors. In social gatherings, you see the kohais serving the senpais beer, or offering them food. The senpai, on the other hand, feels obligated to guide the kohai, and teach him the proper rules. So, you think, after leaving school, the junior-senior relationship is over? Uh-uh. When you enter a Japanese company, the system prevails like the commonest thing on earth. Newly hired employees become the kohais and are expected to obey the guidance of their senior colleagues. In board meetings, you can spot the kohais because they usually sit near the doors, while the senpais are closer to the head of the table. Some kohais are also expected to serve tea or coffee to their senpai colleagues. Many also use the more polite language “keigo” toward their senpais. You know how they say that Japanese don’t work for long hours; they just stay in the office for long hours? Well, that’s true because they feel embarrassed to leave the office earlier than their senpais. And, when a senpai invites the kohai for a drink-out, it is most likely that the kohai cannot turn him down. Senpais and kohais even exist in the political scene. Junior politicians give way to their senior mentors, with the sense of loyalty so strong that it would even be hard for one to change political parties. In the music and celebrity world, young musicians and actors pay respect to their senpais, too. The system sounds militaristic, maybe because it is. When I look at junior train masters in station platforms bowing endlessly to their superiors, department store salesladies tailing behind their managers in those tiny and polite steps, firemen lined up in a platoon while having morning drill exercises, staff of stores practicing “Irasshaimase! Ohayo gozaimasu! Arigatou gozaimasu!” with their loud screams, I can’t help thinking that life in Japan is like one big military parade. And, the thing about senpai-kohai is that the senpais are usually older than the kohais. Age is critical in Japan, and the older you are, the more respectable and reliable you become. Did you notice that even pop idol groups have “ri-da-“ (leader) as head of their groups? The “leader” is usually chosen by his age. Thus, in the work force, it is the usual case that you cannot reach to top “senpai” executive level with all the benefits until you are over 40 and above.
Uh-oh…now I smell the reason why suicide is common in Japan…oops. Senpai-kohai gives the Japanese a lot of advantages, especially as foundation for their success and efficiency. After all, it pays to have more obedient citizens than rebellious activists. (Maybe Filipinos should adopt this system.) But, one wonders if one doesn’t lose himself in the senpai-kohai rules. You become so conscious of how you should be, instead of knowing who you really are. Of course, as the times modernize, some people become less dependent on the senpai-kohai system. Some eager, young enthusiasts strike out as adventurous, bold and daring, compared to their seniors. Still, these novices are just part of a small minority, for nothing seems to topple the Japanese sense of loyalty. That’s right, that’s what the kanji characters mean: an entire lifetime…
So, what’s the 11th commandment? Of course—Thou shalt obey your senpai.
Hope you get your well-deserved summer holiday!
Jeepney Press July-August Issue Page 6

Kaya pala ang baho! Si Totoy talaga, pagkatapos umebak, huhugasan na lang ang kanyang puwit with the magic tabo at biglang may-I-leave the room na lang. Kawawa naman ang susunod na gagamit sa toilet. Hindi lang mabaho, meron pang hindi kanais-nais na itsura na natitira. Kadiri naman.
“Eh, kasi po, walang tubig,” depensa ni Totoy. Paano ka nga mag-pa-flush kung kulang o walang tubig. Ito ay isang malaking suliranin sa mga kasilyas natin sa Pinas. Wala ng tubig, wala pang toilet paper. Mabaho pa at napakarumi. Karamihan, wala pang pinto ang mga cubicle sa mga public places. Paano ka naman e-ebak kung kitang-kita ka ng madlang pipol?
3 years ago when I went home, I was in Greenbelt area to meet some friends. Kumain kami sa isang food area ng isang department store. After eating, bigla akong tinawag ng kalikasan, as in call of nature. So dumeretso ako sa CR. Pagkarating ko sa loob, ang unang-una kong hinanap ay ang mahiwagang papel ng buhay. Nawawala. Importante pa naman iyon. Di mo pwedeng gawin ang dapat mong gawin kung wala iyon. So, balik ako sa restaurant at humingi ako ng napkin sa waiter. Napakatipid niya! Binigyan ako ng tatlong piraso. Baka akala niya ay gagamitin kong pang-retouch ng make-up eh hindi naman ako nag-me-make-up. Binigyan pa ako ng konti kaya austerity is the name of the game. Magtitipid na lang ako. I will make do of whatever is available. Buti na lang at hindi “wet explosion” ang nangyari sa loob. Kung hindi, kulang pa ang isang box ng tissue paper. If ever, one has to take a shower after that kind of explosion. Para malinis, siempre!
Ewan ko ba kung bakit tinawag na CR or comfort room ang mga toilet sa Pinas. Actually, I don’t see anything comfortable. Do you? Meron ba? Minsan, sa dumi, ayokong umupo. Kung kailangan pang mag-tiis, I would have to carry the cross. Pero kung talagang oras na at napakarumi ng silya ng buhay, uupo ka ba? Isang maselan na problema. Ang dapat ilabas, dapat lang lumabas na. Kung hindi, magkakasakit ka pa. I will be honest with you. If this is the case, I don’t sit. I squat. This is what I have learned from the seatless Japanese toilets called WASHIKI.
Siguro, naranasan niyo na ang mga seatless Japanese toilets. Sa mga probinsiya, marami pa ang mga ito. Sa Tokyo, bihira na lang makikita sa mga bagong ginagawang condo. Usually, kung nakatira ka sa lumang apartment, ang toilet ninyo ay WASHIKI. Sa mga department stores and train stations din, they provide options of having both the western style toilets and Japanese squat toilets.
My American friend hates these Japanese style toilets. “How do Japanese do their thing there?” he wonders. Namumulikat daw ang mga paa niya. At nalulukot daw ang bagong dry-cleaned na pantalon niya. So sabi ni Joe, hinuhubaran niya ang kanyang pantalon at sinasabit ito sa pinto. Hayan ang kanyang sikreto. Isang half-naked gaijin inside!
Wika ng mga kaibigan kong Hapon, very hygienic daw ang WASHIKI due to the lack of contact with the seat. In addition, a number of medical benefits are attributed to the squat toilets. Squatting strengthens the pelvic muscles sa mga babae which helps with incontinence or problema sa pag-ihi. Furthermore, this kind of toilet builds up strength in the hips and improves breathing and concentration. This kind of squatting position also allows wastes to be eliminated quickly and completely. Kaya this is very good for people who suffers from hemorrhoids. Assuming and maintaining a squatting position on a regular basis may also help maintain the flexibility of the knees. Doc, OK ito ahh?!
Pero given a choice, I would still choose the western style toilet. Lalung-lalo na ngayon, we have the super toilets equipped with the latest high-tech computerized toilet seats. In Japan, they are commonly known as WASHLET. The seats get warm during the winter season. A nozzle comes out and squirts and sprays water to wash the anus or bidet. The water is also adjustable according to strength and it also has options that can give you massage. There is a nice water flowing sound or music that plays to cover up whatever noise you are creating. There is a built-in deodorizer to remove whatever odor you are producing. And after you are done with your job, you don’t even need to flush it. Everything is automatic. Just put on your pants, zip it up and leave. Now that’s what I call COMFORT, with all capital letters!
I was watching a Japanese program on TV. Do you know kung ano ang pinakamabentang Japanese product sa mga tourists especially the rich Chinese? Computer! Nope. TV? Chigau. Cell phone? Uh-uh. Camera? Nah. Game machines? Ie. Hindi po. It’s the Japanese WASHLET! It’s so popular among the Chinese that droves of them come here just to get the latest one with them to China. A washlet in Akihabara costs about 30,000 yen to 50,000 yen depending on the brand and features.
Mag-ingat lang po sa pag-push ng mga buttons. Ibang button ang sa harap at sa likod. Kung lalake kayo, don’t try pushing the button for the front part. You will get surprised! One time, my friend pushed one button. He said he thought it was the flush button. Ngayon, it turned out he pushed the emergency button. Kinatok bigla siya ng tatlong security guards. Mag-ingat lang po at baka ibang klase naman ang kakatok sa inyo.
Maligayang pag-upo!
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SHOGANAI: GAIJIN LIFE
By Abie Principe
Speaking of Senbei
Senbei (煎餅)- a type of Japanese rice crackers. They come in various shapes, sizes, and flavors, usually savory but sometimes sweet. Senbeis are often eaten with green tea as a casual snack and offered to visiting house guests as a courtesy refreshment. Senbeis are usually cooked by being baked or grilled, traditionally over charcoal. While being prepared they may be brushed with a flavoring sauce, often one made of soy sauce and mirin. They may then be wrapped with a layer of nori. Alternatively they may be flavored with salt or so-called "salad" flavoring. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Senbei )
My first encounter with senbei was when I was still a graduate student in Nagoya. From the university, I went back to the dormitory, and in the lobby, on the table in front of the TV, was a box of, what I was later to learn, senbei. Some nice ladies who were helping students learn Japanese left it there for everyone. There was even a note beside the box “Take Free,” at that time the note made me smile, but that was before I realized it wasn't a joke.
But back to the little crunchy snacks.
The ones I saw were individually wrapped, and looked like brown bread, except when I got one, it was not soft. But the thing is, for some reasons, they reminded me of some cookie-like snacks we have in the Philippines (think ampaw). So I opened one, fully expecting to taste something sweet. Imagine my surprise, or more like chagrin, when I bit into something that tasted like burned rice with soy sauce. Well, that was truly an eye-opener as to what most Japanese people refer to as “snacks.”
The thing about senbeis is that they are unavoidable. Most Japanese people will give you some kind of senbei at some point of your life here, and often they wait eagerly as you open the package and take a bite. We cannot but help to incorporate the ubiquitous senbei in our daily life in Japan. Strangely enough, once you start eating, senbeis actually kind of grow on you, in a purely figurative sense of course. The longer you stay in Japan, the more you notice that you are actually liking those crunchy, soy sauce flavored crackers. And once you find yourself actually looking at the various senbeis in the supermarket, trying to find that one brand you like, then that is a sure sign that you have been in Japan longer than most. My personal favorite, senbeis wrapped in nori. Happy snacking!
