When my daughter was born, my parents-in-law told me they would pay for some Girls’ Day dolls, so I went to buy some at the department store but none of them were very cute. Traditional Japanese dolls have stern faces. When I was a child, Girls’ Day dolls were scary, the festival songs were melancholic, and the only thing about Girls’ Day that I remember putting any effort into was eating the sakura mochi sweets. A daughter’s first Girls’ Day is a special occasion, but I was not looking forward to the dolls. In the end, I bought some dolls that were relatively un-scary, not too expensive, and didn’t take up too much space. If only I had known about tsuribina then, I would have bought them without any doubt. They are hung from the ceiling so they don’t take up much space even in a cramped apartment, and you never have to try to remember whether the prince sits on the right or the left. More than anything, they’re beautiful.

Tsuribina hanging dolls started out in the Edo period when palace ladies-in-waiting made cases for their koto plectra out of leftover kimono fabric. This spread to the common people who couldn’t afford Girls’ Day dolls, and began to made dolls out of blanket scraps. The tradition of hanging these dolls on strings to display them continues to this day. A set of tsuribina contains seven strings of seven items which each carry special wishes and meanings, like cranes (long life), mice (producing many children), Okame, the goddess of mirth (charm), and gourds (good health). Add two balls to the 49 decorations, and there are 51 items in one set. In a time when the typical lifespan was considered to be 50 years, the number 51 represented the wish to live even just one year longer.

Ms. Sakai, who was born in Fukuoka but now lives in Tokyo, has been making tsuribina for sixty years. At home and wherever she goes, she likes to keep her hands busy making cloth decorations whenever she has a free moment. In the exhibition space there were traditional items like balls as well as less traditional dolls like pandas and cows covering every available space. Visitors to the exhibit who had come from overseas were stopped in their tracks by the beauty of her work, and bought some as a souvenir of their visit to Japan.

The dolls that come from Ms. Sakai’s hands are beautiful and lovely, lively and mischievous, while preserving tradition. The blue-themed tsuribina she had made for her great-grandson seemed to have prayers for his healthy growth included in every stitch, and even in an exhibition space full of tsuribina, it stood out more than the rest.

One day in April, at 2:30am. We arrived at the tourist boat we were scheduled to ride in Namerikawa port. There was a light rain falling and we thought the trip might be cancelled, but the waiting room at the Firefly Squid Museum was full of smiling middle-aged and older people wrapped in life jackets. Yes, the people of Toyama love firefly squid so much they’ve actually built a museum for them. I poked around the gift shop in the waiting room until it was time to get on the boat. Firefly squid-themed products, dried firefly squid snacks, and many other souvenirs that are relatively unknown outside Toyama fill the shelves.
At 3:00am, it was finally time to board the boat. About 50 people got on the boat, and we went about 20 or 30 minutes out to sea where the stationary nets were. The early morning sea air is still very cold in April, so if you go, I recommend dressing warmly. The sound of the boat’s motor and the sound of the waves cut through the black sea of Toyama Bay. When we arrived at the fishing grounds, the fishermen started pulling up the nets, and the seagulls swooped in. The lights on the tour boats and the fishing boats were turned off. Then, what’s this? There’s a sparkling sea of blinking blue firefly squid! How fantastic! Apparently they light up when they are stimulated, so the fishermen toss the squid around in the net. This brought a round of cheering and applause up from our boat.
From the earth’s perspective, humans and firefly squid are more or less the same, so I sincerely believe that humans should gratefully receive a tiny share of the wealth from land and sea, and humbly return to the earth. On my way home, I received some freshly caught firefly squid, so I boiled and ate them right away. They look so funny and taste so good; they’re such cute little guys. I like them so much I’d like to get a firefly squid charm for my mobile phone or maybe a firefly squid keychain. Hip-hip-hooray for the bounty of the sea!

I live nearby, so I go to the rag market every year.
It was a cold day, so I bought some hot amazake to drink near the entrance of the market and started my rambling and rummaging. I spotted a carved wooden bear, gripping the classic salmon in its jaws. Then, a stuffed tanuki, standing upright. A toy cat that dances when music is played. A complete set of Mitsuteru Yokoyama’s Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Products made by prisoners, with a portion of the proceeds going towards supporting their reform. Dolls of Kin and Gin, the twin sisters who lived to be 100 years old. There is always a wide range of stuff available, from the extremely practical to the completely frivolous.

My spoils from this trip was a branding iron. There just happened to be one with my last name on it, so after some haggling I managed to get it for ¥3,000. I know what you’re saying, what am I going to do with a branding iron? But since I’ve got it, I’ve been branding my pancakes, my fish sausage, the skin of my oranges and all over the place. I get a grand feeling of ownership from all this so I really feel like I got my money’s worth.

Once you get tired from shopping, it’s time for a mochi break with the rag market’s famous Daikan Mochi. I love mochi (sticky rice cakes) and I make sure to pick some up every year. There’s always a lineup and sometimes it takes over an hour to get through, but the freshly-pounded mochi is only available here. There are three kinds available: sweet bean paste (anko), grated daikon (karami) and toasted soybean powder (kinako). They’re all ¥600 each. They’re pretty big, so you might get yourself in trouble if you’re greedy and buy all three. There’s a spot to sit and eat right beside the stall, and they provide hot tea to drink.

So to wrap up, the Setagaya rag market has everything from altars to toys, the sacred to the mundane; it is a flea market that will take care of all your worldly desires and appetites.

Every year, December 15 – 16, January 15 – 16
9:00 – 21:00
For more information:
Setagaya Boro-ichi Hozonkai
1-23-5 Setagaya, Setagaya-ku
03-3439-1108

By the entrance to the warehouse is a bicycle that has been squashed flat – a work by Ozawa that acts as the signpost to his workshop.

Inside, the space is filled with piles of scrap metal and broken machines lying on their sides. These are the raw materials he works with. He tells me that with a bit of work metal can be recycled over and over again – although he doesn’t recycle it to be “eco”, but simply because it’s fun.

And from a box he pulls out … a twisted-up spoon? That’s what I thought it was at first, but looking closer the spoon had magically transformed into a candlestick. Ozawa put out a call on the internet for people to send him their old spoons, along with a name, and a short story about where it came from. Ozawa used those spoons to make candlesticks, with the name from the donator embossed in them, and including the story in the package. And so the spoons become not only the material for his work, but also hold a recollection of their past lives and the people that owned them. Candlelit memories.

Ozawa’s spoons will be available soon at Mina Perhonen in Shirokanedai.