I sat beneath a cherry tree,
A skeleton still in early spring.
Buddings dotted her branches,
Just beginning their life.

I returned to that tree next week.
The buds were in full bloom now.
She filled the sky with pristine white.
I went to have a closer look.

A rock tripped me though.
I hadn’t noticed him there.
I held him in my hand, feeling his heft.
He felt smooth, the edges worn away.

“You are millions of years old.
You have seen mountains rise.
You have seen oceans fall.
How incredible your life must be,” I told him.

I returned to the tree a third week.
There was but one blossom now.
She was almost a skeleton again,
Erupting with beauty no more.

A faint breeze passed by me then.
I saw that blossom shake, then fall.
The final blow dealt.

The blossom floated down onto the rock.
They shared a moment, young and old together.
The serene moment ended with the next gust though.
And I watched the pedals stream down his face.

I picked up the blossom,
Still beautiful as ever.
I realized how similar our lives were.

“Oh cherry blossom,
Our lives are fragile and short, yet
The rock stands forever idle.
The world teems with our energy.
We find more beauty in two weeks
Than he in eternity.
How lucky we are!”

I spent last week in Germany. Munich, specifically, with a brief encounter with Amsterdam. If you have never been, I highly recommend you go there. The city has the well deserved reputation for being one of the nicest cities in the German republic. There is a wealth of parks, beer, heavy food and — of course — Leiderhosen.

The official reason I went was for work. We were conducting a usability study on the new setup experience. This meant that my vacation was financed, courtesy of Bill Gates. And let me be the first to say, he spared no expense! I got to travel business class, sleep in my own bed, in my own room, at a five star hotel.

I had never travelled business class before, but I now know why it is so much more expensive. You are given such lavish surroundings: your seat goes completely horizontal — allowing a person to realistically entertain the idea of sleeping on the plane; your first drink (chosen from a full bar) is offered before the plane even takes off; your meals are chosen from a menu likely to have filet mignon or duck… It costs a fortune (5-10x normal) but is worth every penny if you can afford it.

The hotel was nice with distinctive European styling. The decor was very minimalist, using dark colors, lots of wood and metal. All artwork was isolated and individually illuminated. Toilets there follow the Japanese style of offering small and big flush modes (although big and bigger would be more apt in Germany). My room was not in any way spacious, but efficient in its use of space such that I did not feel pressed for space.

The most distinctive aspect of the hotel was the way it blended in with the city. Hotels in Japan and the United States tend to suffocate their surroundings. There is little to no activity unrelated to the hotel in the immediate vicinity, much the same way an oak tree stifles the growth of nearby bush and shrubbery. By contrast, the neighboring homes and businesses in Munich have grown together with the Arabella Sheraton Hotel. If you have any doubt, go to floor 19 — there you will find a hospital clinic.

Europe in general has no clear lines between where people live and work. There are apartments right in the middle of the downtown shopping area. The place where we conducted our usability study was a block from the hotel, which was right next to a farmer’s market and restaurants, which all had apartments above it. Some people have the luxury of living in a small apartment during the week and going home to a larger place in the countryside during the weekend. Still, I asked one of the Germans what the average commute time was and he said around 30 minutes each way.

I spent last week in Germany. Munich, specifically, with a brief encounter with Amsterdam.

The official reason I went was for work. We were on our way to conduct a usability study on the new setup experience. Two thirds of the employees — and all of the critical decision making — happens in Redmond. It is imperative we remove our heads from these (comfortable) grounds on occasion and remind ourselves how the rest of humanity experiences reality.

Before we arrived in Germany we had a three hour layover in Amsterdam. We asked some of the KLM employees — women adorned head to toe in baby blue — for some help. Here we got our first taste of the European work ethic. There were about 10 of these ladies behind the counter, five of whom were chit-chatting, paying no regard to the increasingly long line of people wanting help. We eventually got our help (no, we could not change our flight), which we duly ignored. We set off to make the most of what little time we had left.

We took a train into Amsterdam. A guy came by to check our tickets and immediately engaged us in English, inquiring whether we were American. How friendly, I thought! He asked for our tickets, which we handed to him. He then made a loud proclaimation — in English — that this was the first class car. Oh. Those found in the first class car without a first class ticket would be fined 100 euros. The car was blue with no other markings, which obviously makes it first class. He thus concluded in a very loud, still friendly, English voice; half the car got up to leave.

Finally in Amsterdam we walked around. Amsterdam is a trip. None of the buildings are above 4 stories. There is an unmistakable quaintness to the whole place — this is the capital city of the country?! We wandered around and finally settled on a cafe to enjoy our first beer, which they refused to serve to us. Apparently some cafes are unwilling to serve beer at 9am, but smoking pot? No problem.

Instead I had the world’s most expensive half of a grilled cheese sandwich (5 euros, about $7). This was actually well worth the expense, since it came with the entertainment of watching some drunk or otherwise inebriated locals start shouting at each other. The shouting escalated to flailing arms imitating punches, which escalated to rock and brick throwing. At this point three cop cars arrived on the scene. With our entertainment shut down and consumables consumed, we made our way back to the airport.

There is a controversy brewing in Japan where politicians are requiring their aides to donate meaningful amounts of their salary back to the politician hiring them. Apparently the practice is in the gray bounds of the law.

Many movies from Japan replace action with atmosphere. The Place Promised In Our Early Days is one such movie. Almost everything in the movie — artwork, audio, music, screenplay — was done by Makoto Shinkai. His sensitive, gentle character fills the movie; pregnant pauses convey deep feeling nearly as often as the dialog.

This movie is not about any particular event so much as it is about exploring the beauty of the world and deep feelings of loneliness. If this sounds like your kind of thing, I strongly encourage you to rent it from netflix and watch it. The interviews with the director and Hiroki’s voice actor are especially good.

Be sure to watch the movie in Japanese. The English version seems to have a different feeling. Compare the trailers:

• Japanese Trailer
• English Trailer

While most of the world bickers over whether North Korea’s nuclear test was reprehensible or merely awful, they are overlooking one crucial, positive fact: South Korea and China finally agree with Japan about something. Dear leader appears to have grossly miscalculated, alienating China and South Korea and washing over less pressing political differences with Japan in one fell swoop.

In Japan’s biggest non-event of the year, parliament elected to replace Koizumi with Shinzo Abe as the new prime minister. Abe will be the first prime minister born after World War II. Abe vowed to continue Koizumi’s “mantle of reform” and create a “beautiful nation.” Whether this means anything besides visiting the Yasukuni shrine and antagonizing neighbors is unknown.

I wonder if Japanese has an idiom similar to: “meet the new boss, same as the old boss.”

Japan’s Supreme Court has finalized the death sentence for Chizuo Matsumoto, leader of the Aum Shinrikyo cult. This is the cult that deployed nerve gas in the Tokyo subway system in 1995. The attack killed 12 and injured many others. Japan — the country still uses the death penalty — will hang Matsumoto.

In an uncharacteristic fashion, a Japanese nurse has admitted she helped bury evidence of the war-crimes perpetrated by Japan’s germ and biological warfare research — Unit 731.

The heroic Japanese nurse, Toyo Ishii, broke a 60 year silence. She admits to helping bury bones to an unknown number of bodies — evidence found in 1989 suggests anywhere from 50 to over 100 — who were drilled into, injected with diseases and cut open while still alive. Japan buried these victims — mostly American POWs — in a mass grave shortly before Americans arrived following Japan’s surrender.

Japan will not apologize and has expressed no interest in reconciliation. It will neither investigate the issue further — Japan released a study in 2001 saying it did nothing wrong — nor allow the victims a proper burial:

Health Ministry official Jiro Yashiki rules out a speedy exhumation. “People still live there and we can’t visit each family to remind them of the bones … just imagine how they feel about it”.

The saddest part of this tragedy: the atrocities Americans endured in World War II is an order of magnitude better than what China endured.

Koizumi — against the unified voice of Asia — and no one’s surprise — visited the Yasukuni Shrine again this year. His successor will almost certainly continue this travesty.

The Japanese nation’s actions during WWII are abhorrent; they execrate humanity. That Japan continues to remain unaccountable for its atrocities is reprehensible, an abomination.