A visit to the Imperial Palace

On January 1st, I rode my bicycle, after a late night of new years toasting and eating with friends, to the Gates of the Imperial Palace. There were many people, but not nearly the reaction I had expected. I asked a security guard if I could go in and see the emperor. Uninterested, he said, no. I asked if I could enter tomorrow. He said, yes. I said thanks, and he also said thanks.

Forward, one day. On January 2nd, S and I rode bicycles to the front gates of the Imperial Palace. We were handed paper flags with a red sun. People were streaming in across the little bridge; we entered the flow and proceeded around a little bend, and over another little bridge. I stopped to take pictures and a man in a black suit told me in a serious tone to keep walking. I kept walking, and we entered into a sprawling courtyard fronting a massive low level building, inconspicuous and unassuming. We joined the hordes, and waited, paitently for our turn to see the modern incarnation of the ancient family, born of gods. As we waited, we noticed many foreign faces in the crowd, and remarked that the inside of the palace looks remarkably like the outside of the palace.


A door jiggled, edged slightly open, and out sauntered the royal family. The new baby was not present, but we saw the main man, Emporer Akihito, the princess, and the guy with the moustache. They waved, and we waved flags, quietly dignified. This lasted long enough to snap a few crooked pictures, until they stopped waving and retreated inside; presumably to drink tea and read, waiting until the next throng of the day should arrive.

I don't know exactly the meaning of the modern Emporer, but there was a significant stir last year about the fate of the throne's gender until a baby boy was born, so there must remain some traditional concern. Most people I spoke with however, didn't seem too concerned about having a female Emperor at all; in fact, younger Japanese seem either indifferent or even opposed to the Imperial Institution. When I told a friend of mine about my flag waving, smiling, he said, don't... That kind of mistrust of the nationalist instinct is probably healthy to have, particularly with the patriotic resurgence in politics and additions to the school system.

However, as a foreigner who has been living next door to the Palace for a year, it was simply an interesting anecdote to my stay in Japan, and a unique experience to say the least. Being neighbourly, I offered the Emporer a pound cake, though he either didn't see me, or doesn't like that kind of cake. Regardless, we did the friendly thing, and stopped by for an afternoon.

[pics to come]