The Citizen, 1997-02-05, Page 5Arthur Black
THE CITIZEN, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 5,1997 PAGE 5.
The charm of cable cars
To be where little cable cars
Climb halfway to the stars...
Famous song lyric
There is only one town in the world where
you can truly savour those lyrics. That town
is San Francisco, California. I made my first
visit just a couple of weeks ago. And I
brought back a ton of souvenirs, none of
which I mentioned when I cross the border
into Canada.
No need to. The souvenirs were all in my
head. I'd like to declare them now.
San Francisco is one of the newest old
cities in the world. That's because they had to
build it again from scratch just 90 years ago,
after a devastating earthquake and fire
reduced the town to a little more than rubble
and snuffed out 3,000 citizens. But San
Francisco rose again. And it stands today a
remarkable city, quite unlike any other
metropolis I've ever seen.
For one thing it has Alcatraz, a menacing
knob of rock and scrub that looms in the mist
just a little over a mile from your cafe table
on Fisherman's Wharf. Like Fisherman's
Wharf, Alcatraz is just a tourist stop now, but
in its day, it was one of the most famous and
feared prisons on the continent. Just a mile
from downtown San Francisco, but bone
chilling water, murderous tides and threat of
sharks kept the populations of the city and
Rock from mingling.
Fisherman's Wharf? Niagara Falls without
the warterworks. Fisherman's Wharf is gaudy
and flashy and glitzy and trashy. Great place
to go if your idea of travelling is shopping
for dopey T-shirts and munching on foot
long hot dogs of dubious ancestry.
My advice? Buy the T-shirts if you must,
but pass on the red hots. There are so many
^International Scene
By Raymond Canon
Suppressed Christianity
It should come as no surprise to some
readers that Christians are not exactly in
great quantities in Japan. The vast majority
of the one hundred million inhabitants of the
islands that make up the country, belong to
one or another of the Oriental religions.
But out of the history of Christianity comes
one of the most fascinating of tales.
It was Francis Xavier who introduced the
religion to the Japanese at about the time of
the Reformation. It was so successful, at least
in the eyes of the Japanese government, that
the latter felt the 400,000 or so believers
might have what could be described as dual
loyalties. Such a thing was not to be
tolerated. As a result Christianity was banned
in 1612 and to make sure that the ban was
effective, Christians were killed in a wide
variety of ways. Most of those who managed
to escape the killings gave up on their faith.
But not all! A number decided to go
underground and carried on their faith by
selling up a secret organization which used
Buddhist rituals as a cover for Christian ones.
As they went about their work they daily
passed signs offering 100 silver pieces to
anybody that would turn in a Christian; if a
priest was turned in, the reward was five
times as great.
great restaurants in San Francisco it would be
a criminal offense worthy of incarceration in
Alcatraz to waste any appetite on a lowly red
hot.
And then there are the cable cars. They are
tiny - about one-third the size of a city bus.
They are old - antique, even. They rattle and
they're drafty and they're slow and often so
packed you can't find a space on the hard
wooden benches that pass for scaling.
But oh, they are magical. And at one time
crucial for any kind of mass transportation in
San Francisco.
It's the streets, you see. Imagine a series of
towering lodgepole pines, all of different
heights, growing in a field, say 10 miles
square. Imagine throwing a 20-square mile
shower curtain over those poky trees. Now
imagine taking a paintbrush and painting
black lines from one side of the shower
curtain to the other, up peak and down
valley, east to west and north to south.
Those black lines would be the streets of
San Francisco. You might think you've seen
steep hills in St. Johns, Montreal, or
Vancouver. No. You go to the San Francisco
to see steep hills. The hills are so steep that
early horse and wagon combinations couldn't
climb them safely.
Then an English inventor by the name of
Andrew Hallidie came along. He invented a
system of steel cables that ran under the city
streets. The cables were guided by a system
of grooved pulleys, so that they were
constantly in motion. The way a cable car
works is that the car operator activates a grip
handle on board the car, which runs through
a slot in the street and pinches the moving
cable below. The cable car is then pulled
along until the gripman releases the handle.
Cable car operation is a little more
complicated than that, but not much. The
beauty of the system is its simplicity. The
Small wonder that, during the 250 years
that the religion was outlawed, the probable
number of Christians never rose above the
50,000 mark, considerably lower than the
figure quoted above, which existed before
the ban.
However, when Christianity was made
legal again in the late 19th century, two
things happened. A majority of those who
had practiced underground returned to a
traditional service. However, a sizeable
minority opted to go on as they had before
the ban, meeting secretly in their homes and
using the rituals which they had developed.
It is at this point that the really fascinating
part begins. Remember that all the
clandestine Christians could do was pass
down verbally what they had learned; there
was also next to no chance of verifying the
accuracy of their teaching since they were
thousands of miles away from the
mainstream of the Christian religion. Over
250 years some changes inevitably crept in.
One story tells of Jesus debating with
Buddhist priests; another relates all children
of five and under. Mary also gives birth to
Jesus in a stable but the innkeeper, who had
originally rejected her, then takes her in and
arranges for her to have a hot bath, a truly
Japanese touch.
The Lord's Prayer stayed close to the
original but the Japanese Christians had
difficulty with Latin words and, due to the
cable cars arc - oh, Joy - uncompulcrizcd.
They have no engines to break down or
hydraulic systems to go AWOL. They are
really like big fishing lures being hauled
through the streets on a large wire cable
fishing line. They troll for passengers. And
the passengers bite with enthusiasm. Cable
cars started hauling San Franciscans up and
down the hills of their hometown a century
and a quarter ago, and the same cars arc
doing the same job today.
Oh, the Progrcss-At-Any-Pricers tried to
get rid of them once. Back in 1947 they
claimed cable cars were obsolete and old-
fashioned and the city would be belter served
by gas-guzzling, fume-farting buses, but the
cable-car-loving public raised such a hue and
cry that the internal combustion fans backed
off and haven't uttered a peep since.
And a good thing too. Not only is the rackety,
clackety cable car San Francisco's entree as an
international city, it's a hit at home as well.
Everybody loves the cable car, tourist and city
denizen alike. The toughest thing about them is
trying to get aboard. There's no room! You wait
at the stop and hear the familiar conductor's
bell, but all you can see is a slowly moving wad
of humanity coming at you along the track. On
a cable car you can sit inside and outside and
you can stand inside and outside. But really
outside - hanging on to a strap and hanging out
into the traffic and hoping other drivers are
paying attention.
They usually are. Those drivers have had
plenty of time to practice after all. Cable cars
have been rolling up and down the hills of San
Francisco since 1873.
Looks like they won't disappear any time
soon. Ten years ago each and every cable car
was taken out of service, one at a time, and
completely refitted.
And, say the experts, "The system should
work safely for the next 100 years".
lack of priests, most of lhe Catholic
sacraments disappeared totally.
Even with the re-emergence of Christianity
of 1873, there was not a rush to return to a
pure form. Many Japanese Christians felt
comfortable with lhe practices they had
known since childhood and refused to alier
them in any way.
A Christian church built in 1914, 41 years
after the removal of the ban, shows this
reluctance to a remarkable degree. The altar
has a rice bowl and water; an image of
Buddha is draped with pears. Other churches
have crosses of Jesus or Mary but these are
portrayed as simply one of lhe Shinto Gods
to whom many Japanese pray. Shinto is, by
the way, an ancient religion of Japan; it was
originally a form of nature worship but was
influenced over the centuries by both
Confusianism and Buddhism.
In some circles in Japan it is believed that
lhe Japanese emperor is descended from one
of the Shinto Gods. Overall there is a
reverence of ancestors and great importance
attached to the worship of departed heroes.
In short, the religion of the kakure
Kirishitan, or hidden Christians, even as
practiced today, appears to be Shinto in form
with a thin veneer of Christian symbolism.
Due to a number of factors, this form or
worship seems to be dying out since there is
little to distinguish it from other religions in
Continued on page 25
Words, music, action
/
Gravity may be pulling me down, and my
kids and I don’t always see eye to eye, but
when it comes to music at least, lhe
gemation gap in our family is a little more
on lhe same level.
I have always been able to find the silver
lining in a lol of musical forms, particularly
if I can sense a modicum of talent went into
it. I enjoy much of lhe alternative music
(loosely defined as that which doesn't follow
the popular mainstream) that my kids lend to
favour. But while a sense of poetry, of
intellectual reflection or a catchy beat can
entertain me, I do get a yen now and then for
yesterday's songs of yearning.
When this happens, I figure equal lime is
only fair, so any kid in the house is going to
have their teenage angst exposed to melodic
invasion without aggression, to messages of
simplistic, but passionate feelings for a time.
It was just the other evening after hearing
the infamous Beck crooning to a group of
young music enthusiasts (?) at a concert, Oh,
oh from head to toe, I'm a loser baby, so why
don't you kill me, I had a desire to engage in
this type of sensitizing.
Oh it's too bad, and it's too sad
Cause I'm in love with you
First you love me, then you snub me
But what can I do, I'm still in love with
you?
See the angst and the pain are all there, but
it's so much prettier, isn't it? And I hope that
exposure to the differences will, through
osmosis, bring my children to appreciate the
power in all its forms.
Music when in harmony with poetry is
energy and emotion. Its ability to appeal to
our primitive nature has also made it a
format on which to carry a message, one,
which regardless of its subtleties, insinuates
its intent into your psyche. It can stimulate,
lift or restore.
Music has the power to empower. It
provokes and questions. And young people
listen, sometimes to the concern of the older
generation, who, for decades now haven't
always been sure their kids should be
hearing what they're hearing.
Even though I enjoy a good deal of today's
music, sometimes I do just have to shake my
head at the cacaphony on stage and lhe
flinging of bodies below, as they do what
they refer to as moshing. (This was slam
dancing in lhe 80s. Prior to that lhe closest
thing would be rumbling in lhe 50s)
But while cynicism, ambivalence and
aggression seem to have always made up a
part of the young music scene, there is an
aspect that is often overlooked. That teens
are moved by what they hear is obvious in
their reactions, silly as they may be, to those
of us with less energy. That they are often
hearing these bands at concerts held for a
cause is something that gets lost in the
mayhem. Beck was appearing with a number
of other artists, in part, to bring attention to
and raise money for Amnesty International's
efforts.
Over the years, musicians have promoted
world peace, fought famine and added their
voices to those in opposition of issues like
apartheid. The melody and the muse have
lhe ability to impact the listener. But, the
performers, while their voices may inspire
feelings, can by their presence, show all
generations that they care.