Ciarán Lawler arrived in Tokyo in 2018 on a working-holiday visa. Since then he has worked as a policy manager for a traditional Japanese company, lectured at a third-level tourism institution and been a freelance journalist
Hideki Mimura drinks Jameson Black Barrel due to its easy accessibility in the Greater Tokyo Area, but for special occasions he reaches for Midleton Very Rare. As the organiser of dozens of St Patrick's Day parades that have taken place across the length and breadth of Japan over the past three decades he can be considered an authority on all things Irish.
Therefore it is no surprise that he won the President's Distinguished Service Award in 2017 for his outstanding contributions to communal relations. His ultimate ambition is to establish annual parades in all 47 of Japan's prefectures, from Hokkaido to Okinawa. He might succeed.
Last Saturday, Hideki got back into the swing of things by arranging a post-pandemic resurrection parade in the fashionable Motomachi area of Yokohama. I was there.
The sight of Japanese office workers donning GAA jerseys quickly passes from novelty to sincere appreciation that people from a country and society so dissimilar to <a class="search" href='javascript:window.parent.actionEventData({$contentId:"7.1213540", $action:"view", $target:"work"})' polopoly:contentid="7.1213540" polopoly:searchtag="tag_location">Ireland</a> are able to be united through a love of culture
The sight of Japanese office workers donning GAA jerseys quickly passes from novelty to sincere appreciation and gratitude that people from a country and society so dissimilar to Ireland are able to be united through a love of culture. While the main parade in Tokyo has been cancelled for a third consecutive year, there is a sense of optimism that it will be back running at full speed this time in March 2023.
While three years of pent-up zeal for revelry will be unleashed on the streets of Dublin on Paddy’s Day, the situation in Japan is understandably a little less bombastic and messy. Tokyo will remain under a very subtle State of Emergency Declaration until March 21st, and the entire nation continues to be virtually bereft of overseas visitors. Yet these less than ideal circumstances will not stop anyone from having a good time on Thursday, March 17th. Smaller-scale events and informal gatherings here provide the sense of informality that is such an integral part of the Irish national character.
The Irish community in Japan is a diverse mix of individuals who wound up here for all manner of reasons, from being transferred by their company to seeking to quench their thirst for adventure in a land unknown. St Patrick’s Day in Japan serves as a kind of unifying factor that brings everyone together in the spirit of good cheer and benevolent national pride.
Many expats are concentrated in the capital, where social engagements are more easily arranged, but there’s no shortage of tricolour-waving patriots tucked away in less hectic regions. These rural residents are often teaching English in communities that have minimal knowledge of Ireland, so the teachers avail of the opportunity and construct lessons centred around shamrocks and snakes in an effort to share the seasonal sentiment.
Japanese awareness of Ireland reaches its peak in March. Books Kinokuniya in Shinjuku, one of the best places to pick up physical literature in Tokyo, has set up a temporary Paddy's Day section for both locals and expats. There are translations of James Joyce, WB Yeats and Sally Rooney. But what really grabbed my attention was the Japanese edition of Peppa Pig Goes to Ireland. I hoggishly read the entire tome right there on the shop floor, and I can conclude that the glittery green cover is very satisfying to touch.
Another text that rears its storied head during leprechaun season is Kwaidan by Patrick Lafcadio Hearn, who was one of the first Irish people to reside in Japan on a permanent basis following the opening of the country during the Meiji Restoration of the latter 19th century. The book is a compilation of traditional Japanese folk stories intended for Western audiences, filled with supernatural creatures and mystical events. It is hard not to compare the Japanese and Irish penchant for storytelling, an art form that both countries hold dear to their hearts. What would the Salmon of Knowledge taste like if it was made into sushi?
One of the more perturbing elements of visiting the alcohol section of a Japanese convenience store as an Irish person, especially around this time of the year, is the fact that Guinness is exclusively sold in 330ml cans. Consequently, if you want to fill a single pint glass in the privacy of your own apartment, you will need to purchase two. You’re then stuck with a lonely half-empty little can. This unsurprisingly creates a logistical nightmare that contravenes rudimentary pint etiquette.
Hence the search for the perfect pub-poured pint is one undertaking that Irish exiles invariably embark on. There are a couple of chain establishments that might generously be described as so,so, but the general consensus arrived at by collective Hibernian wisdom is that An SÓLÁS is possibly the best Irish pub in the country and the aforementioned Hideki Mimura (Mimura-san) concurs. An SÓLÁS means The Light, for those of you who also took Ordinary Level Irish in the Leaving Certificate, and it proudly identifies itself as the only Irish-owned pub in Tokyo. I'll definitely be paying a visit on Patrick's Day, as will many familiar faces from the Irish community in Japan.
Photographs courtesy of the Ireland Japan Chamber of Commerce
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