Manga, anime and cosplay: everything you need to know

Manga are meant to be read back to front, right to left. If you open a typical shojo like a regular book, you’re likely to see a note saying: “Stop! You are going the wrong way!” The idea is that it’s “a completely different reading experience”, as one popular series, Othello, explains on its first (that is, last) page.

The Chinese characters used to write the word manga in Japanese can be translated as ‘whimsical drawings’. The word first came into common usage in the late 18th century with the publication of Santō Kyōden’s picturebook Shiji no yukikai.

Shojo comics (manga for girls) have become one of the hottest markets in the book business. The genre has been called ‘big eyes save the world’ because of its predilection for girls with saucer-shaped eyes and supernatural powers.

While the earliest known Japanese animation dates to 1917, the characteristic anime style developed in the 1960s – most notably with the work of Osamu Tezuka, considered by many ‘the god of manga’.

On October 31 in 2006, ‘cosplay’ was declare Urban Word of the Day by urbandictionary.com, which defines it thus: “Literally ‘Costume Play.’ Dressing up and pretending to be a fictional character (usually a sci-fi, comic book or anime character).

Yuichiro ‘Jienotsu’ Nagashima, one of Japan’s top-ranked kickboxers, makes all his appearances for K-1 dressed as different female anime characters, accompanied by cosplaying girls.

When choosing your cosplay character, take time to study their mannerisms and be prepared to pose for camekos (‘cosplay photographers’).

Make sure you’re at the right cosplay convention: no self-respecting Doraemon wants to find themselves shoulder to shoulder with Stormtroopers.

Big in Japan

Sailor Moon stomps around in knee-high boots with five-inch platform heels. She has her own TV show and sings horrible pop songs. In strict anime proportion, this ‘magical girl’ boasts boobs the size of volleyballs and eyeballs the size of compact discs – and if you were 16 again, you’d probably want to date her or even be her.

Such is the awesome power of Japanese cartoon culture, which is finally finding a foothold here in Phnom Penh. Four months after the Japanese Embassy hosted the country’s first cosplay party at the Cambodia-Japanese Friendship Kizuna Festival, what claims to be the city’s first manga/anime/cosplay cafe is poised to open its doors in Golden Sorya Mall.

Here, among the comics, films, costumes and plastic figurines, entry into a fantastical realm is for sale – a realm Japan, notorious for its restrictive culture, has excelled in exporting to the wider world. In 2006, according to the Japan External Trade Organisation, manga sales in France and Germany totalled more than $212 million, making Europe the largest consumer of manga outside Japan. Manga versions of both the Bible and Shakespeare were launched by British publishers in 2007 and by 2009 anime clubs had spread to every continent. Two years ago, a search entry ranking by China’s biggest search engine revealed that ‘Naruto’ had been searched for more than 15 million times. Today, The Manga Guide series, on school subjects such as statistics, electricity and molecular biology, is a big hit for making science easy to swallow.

As the Washington Post noted at the turn of the 21st century, “In the modern commerce of a vinylised culture, it’s hard to know for certain whether we tell the Japanese what to do or they tell us. Lately the dialogue has collapsed giddily into a driving, sonic beat and the war whoops of mutant, cartoon samurai. It snuggles up to us with names like Pikachu.”

After years of waiting on the fringe of the sci-fi/fantasy universe, the world of Japanese animation – ranging from Pokemon to the blatantly pornographic – is now big with the neo-nerds. From roots in the explosion of artistic creativity in post-Occupation Japan, it has grown to support a more-than-$6-billion-a-year industry in the US, where manga sales increased at a rate unprecedented in the publishing industry – 350% from $60 million in 2002 to $210 million in 2007 – before the economy began shrivelling in 2008.

“Manga is very popular now not just in Japan but around the world,” says Kenji Hozawa, the former insurance worker behind the new cafe. “I have been reading manga since I was a little boy, but they are not just for children.” He hands me a 1986 copy of Buddha, by Osamu Tezuka – the artist’s unique interpretation of the life of the founder of Buddhism. The cover of another comic book, which could be a public service broadcast from 1950s Britain, reads simply: The Good Housewife.

It could be worse. Manga’s highly sexualised nature can be downright seedy, if not illegal. In 2007, 13 comics – including Rape Me In My School Uniform and Paedophile’s Banquet II – were branded ‘harmful books’ by the Kyoto Prefecture for featuring excessive sexual acts involving girls under the age of 13.

Anime and manga also tend to perpetuate negative images of daily life in Japan, according to International Manga Award winner Madeleine Rosca, an Australian artist and author: “Japan comes across as a bit scary culturally – terribly formal and deeply strict,” she told the Wall Street Journal in 2007. “Most of the stories we get tend to be stereotypes showing heavy workloads and strictness and a super-adherence to tradition.”

As if to underscore the muted horror, there is a caste of Japanese youth called hikikomori: mostly young men who lock themselves away in their bedrooms for years at a time. Fearful of society’s expectations, they retreat instead into a world of fantasy. “That’s why I want to open this cafe, because there are some young people who would otherwise lock themselves away alone,” says Kenji. He nods sagely. “I want them to come together; get to know each other over a rented anime movie or a manga comic.”

Patrick Samnang Mey is the author of graphic novel Eugenie, a title Kenji is helping enter into this year’s International Manga Award. “I do like the Manga style of animation,” Patrick says. “I started to draw ‘seriously’ when I saw some episodes of Saint Seiya as a child. I’d say that my style is a blend between Japanese manga style and American comics. I am a child of globalisation, after all. I think that young Cambodians will like manga, but everything comes down to money. Will there be enough Cambodians spending money on something related to culture? I’m not sure, but I think that it’s worth trying – and he’s the only one to do it in Phnom Penh.”

WHO: The wildly imaginative
WHAT: Manga Samurai Cafe
WHERE: Golden Sorya Mall, Street 51
WHEN: From June 20
WHY: Manga are “like the release of the id” – Frederik L Schodt, author of Dreamland Japan: Writings On Modern Manga

Monks & munchies

To still one’s mind requires immense discipline, removing all conscious thought while sitting cross-legged in silence. That means you shouldn’t think of crab, or the bowl of noodles, herbs and chopped spring rolls you had for lunch at the market, or how you will ask the baii charr lady out the front to omit MSG from your order in Khmer. Every time your mind wanders, you need to rein it back in and concentrate. Some folk seem to be at peace as they sit there, eyes closed, probably three minutes away from achieving Nirvana. However for many, myself included, it is hard to stop thinking, especially at dinner time.

I have been attempting to meditate at Wat Lanka for a few months now, slowly building up to a rather lengthy 35-minute stint last week. One of the oldest monasteries in Phnom Penh (1442), the main temple comprises a towering Buddha statue and beautiful murals of the Buddha’s life in a large airy hall. Somehow, street noise disappears, leaving the peaceful sound of birds and the goings on of the monks below. There is usually a monk present who provides a little instruction, my favourite being the head monk who has a great belly laugh and provides encouragement in a Yoda-esque manner: “But try you must.”

Finish meditating and a delectable reward awaits. Known as the baii chhar (‘fried rice’) lady, she parks her cart just outside the gates of Wat Lanka on Street 51 from 5.30pm. The main cart is used to prepare fried rice and the side wok is reserved for noodles. My standard order: fried rice with no MSG, extra greens and an egg. The little stall next door sells drinks and the kid-size table offers a range of condiments – fish sauce, MSG (in case you needed some more), chilli sauce, vinegar and soya sauce, whatever you need to give it that perfect ‘zing’.

With my order placed, it’s time to pull up a plastic stool and await the arrival of that steaming plate of goodness while soaking up the business of the street, a stark contrast to the peace and quiet of the temple. Range Rovers the size of a small house whizz past, tourists working their way to bars and restaurants on Street 278 play Frogger with traffic, and food carts with their bell ringing are wheeled by, laden with mango and noodle soup and crunchy baguettes with pate and salad.

My heart, however, belongs to the baii chhar lady. First the sizzle as garlic and chilli hits the oil, followed by the clanging of the metal spoon as it tosses around each addition. And then, on this noisy, busy street outside the serene Wat Lanka, an almost heavenly scent of freshly stir-fried rice hits you. A generous portion of fried rice is served up (if you’re lucky on a plate although usually in a Styrofoam container), ready to be inhaled as thoughts (and acts) of gluttony are finally permissible.

Find the baii chhar (‘fried rice’) lady outside the gates of Wat Lanka on Street 51 & 278 from 5.30pm every day.

Mara: Not so formal

Her name is Khemara, the formal for ‘Khmer’, and when she smiles she does so broadly. Mara, the new Riverside bar which takes its name from hers, is elegant but not to the point of being elitist. Its impossibly charming chief hostess will regale you with tales of life in the provinces while you gorge on standard cocktail-bar fare against a backdrop of standard cocktail-bar decor, pausing every now and then only to remind you to swallow as you listen, open-mouthed. A burger the size of your hand is $6; the espressos pack a powerful, caffeine-gloved punch. Mara, #83 Sisowath Quay.

Caught in the cross currents

As dawn broke in Japan on July 25 1999, the shores of Lake Biwa revealed an unusual sight. Lining the edge of the water were 350 people, who together faced the lake and intoned a kotodama, or traditional Japanese mantra. Containing the catchy little phrase ‘the eternal power of the universe has gathered itself to create a world with true and grand harmony’, the kotodama floated across Lake Biwa ten times before silence fell once more.

This was not, contrary to appearances, the opening of a scientology convention or an early morning rehearsal for an intimate Moonie wedding. A form of incantation traditional in Japan, kotodama refers to an ancient belief that a mystical power dwells in words and names, and that invocation of this power through language can and does affect change.

The belief may have been ancient, but the change willed was thoroughly modern. Japan’s largest freshwater lake, Biwa holds a central place in the country’s mythology, cultural history and national identity. But thanks to its location in Japan’s urban heartland, the lake is also pivotal to industry and development. Years of factory run-off had caused high levels of water pollution, depletion of natural fish stocks, destruction of traditional lakeside livelihoods and the creeping growth of putrefied algae which choked the lake’s surface and released a foul-smelling gas. The residents of Biwa were not amused.

[quote align=”center” color=”#999999″]In an attempt to reassert the lake’s natural balance in the face of apparently overwhelming ecological degradation, the Biwa community decided to respond with local wisdom rather than outsider interference; with shamanism rather than science[/quote]

In an attempt to reassert the lake’s natural balance in the face of apparently overwhelming ecological degradation, the Biwa community decided to respond with local wisdom rather than outsider interference; with shamanism rather than science. A month later the Kyoto Shinbun newspaper reported that the waters of Lake Biwa were clear and the putrid algae had vanished.

For three years between 2008 and 2001, award-winning Filippino filmmaker Nick Deocampo trailed five communities across Asia, including Biwa, who attempted to find local responses to ecological challenges. The resulting documentary, Cross Currents, brings together the residents of Biwa-ko, Batanes (Philippines), Kali Code (Indonesia), Khiriwong (Thailand) and Tasik Chini (Malaysia), intertwining stories of ordinary people finding out-of-the ordinary solutions to desperate situations.

“Instead of scientists, I met shamans and activists, survivors and healers,” Deocampo said of the documentary-making experience. “In the course of these meetings, I came to see the significance of unseen spirits, the counting of waves and the reading of clouds, the divination of animal sacrifices, the potency of activism, and the importance of human mediation in the face of social apathy and natural calamities. In short, I met courageous, although very ordinary, people. I was energised by community leaders who, despite the scarcity of resources and lack of funds, bravely provided for their community’s needs in times of natural and man-made calamities.”

Using water as Cross Currents’ main thematic and stylistic motif, Deocampo focuses on two main indigenous responses to ecological degradation: spirituality and communal action. It was spirituality, Deocampo says, which struck him the most. “All across Asia, I witnessed how spirituality has marked our relation with nature- although this may come in varying degrees of intensity. But the strongest affinity with nature comes from communities that have their local traditions intact.”

Batanes, the Philippines, is one such community. Deocampo found that through the experience and knowledge of the local shaman, marine resources were being preserved. Similarly in Indonesia and Thailand he filmed indigenous celebrations intended to honour water’s place as the lifeblood of the community.

To obviate the possibility of anyone accusing these communities of lack of direct action in the face of ecological disaster, Deocampo’s film also shows communal activities such as ‘river cleaning’ in Yogyakarta, and the establishment of a forest management collective near the once-festering Lake Bawa. Spirituality may be pervasive across Asia, but local people certainly aren’t too busy counting waves or reading clouds to get their hands dirty.

WHO: Award-winning filmmaker Nick Deocampo
WHAT: Cross Currents documentary screening
WHERE: Meta House, Sothearos Blvd.
WHEN: 7pm June 23
WHY: I had you at “shamanism”, didn’t I?

Hedonism, decadence & epicureanism

Standing at Do Forni, a ristorante Italiano, at 11:30 on a Friday morning with a flute of Prosecco in hand I smiled. My darling friend Anthony – a senior psychiatrist in Sydney – once quipped: “Hedonism and decadence come naturally to you, don’t they?” It was an apt observation and I have been quoting him ever since. And in true hedonistic style, I held out my flute for a top up. Prosecco is a single-grape sparkling wine. Like Champagne, it is now name-protected and must be grown in the Fruili-Venezia Giulia or Veneto areas of northeast Italy.

Andrea Molinari is the new executive sous chef at the Sofitel Phnom Penh Phokeethra. He has been in Cambodia less than a month and already he is putting his Lombardy stamp on the Italian cuisine at Do Forni.

“I don’t cook with tomato sauce,” Andrea confides with an air of disdain in his voice. “It masks the taste of the food. I prefer that the flavours come through.” Andrea is no stranger to the large, open space at Do Forni. In the kitchen even before he was out of nappies, Andreas had a mother who cooked for 10; early on her son chopped things and ran errands. A natural in a chef’s hat, his career has taken him to the Sheraton Hotel in Abu-Dhabi and the Berjaya Hills Hotel in Kuala Lumpur.

[quote align=”center” color=”#999999″]“I don’t cook with tomato sauce,” Andrea confides with an air of disdain in his voice. “It masks the taste of the food. I prefer that the flavours come through.”[/quote]
On to the decadent brunch. First up was chopped salmon that was about three minutes old, topped with what looked like green caviar. Andrea explained it was actually little beads of cucumber to contrast the flavour. Next was Andrea’s signature dish that won a gold medal in Italy in 2003: risotto with melon, shrimp and Gorgonzola. The five at our table ate every bite and wondered how we might wade through another two courses. I was beginning to wish I’d worn trousers with an expandable waistline, a handy banquet-survival tool I’d picked up when I lived in China. There, one never knows when the food will stop coming.

The sea bass was done to perfection. Light and beautifully seasoned, it provided a perfect balance for the risotto. Then a cup of tiramisu, generously sprinkled with chocolate and graced with a ladyfinger, appeared. I hate to admit that I couldn’t quite polish off the tiramisu; next time I will wear those expandable trousers. The food, the bubbly and the service added up to an epicurean experience to rave about.

Insider’s advance notice: foodies, mark July 1 in your diary. Andrea’s ambitious undertaking is Five Steps Around the World: dishes from South America, Europe, Africa, North America and the Asia Pacific. Each has an accompanying wine from the continent. Andrea is also going to appeal to the five senses, although after a sneak preview of the menu the only food ‘sound’ I could find was Popcorn Bombe Alaska.

Do Forni, Sofitel Phnom Penh Pokeetra, Sothearos Blvd; 023 999200.

Zino: All around the world

When French novelist, poet and playwright Jules Verne packed fictional adventurer Phileas Fogg off to circumnavigate the planet, it was to be a full 80 days before the rascal returned from his mission. Amateur! In one evening at the recently opened new-wine-bar-on-the-block, Zino, you can hop from Spain to Italy to France to Morocco and back without breaking a sweat. The menu, by a Michelin-starred chef, is global; the wine references number more than 100. Specials include the sumptuous-sounding sea bass wrapped in parma ham ($15). Slate floors, split levels, a sweeping staircase and tables in intimate corners only add to the sophistication. Be on your best behaviour, or as near as dammit. Zino, #12 Street 294

Sticky wickets

We’ve all watched those feel-good Hollywood movies: a motley crew comes together under a new coach to beat the odds and win the neighbourhood/state/world championship. They are the underdogs, laughed at by their peers, but with enough enthusiasm and energy to put a smile on anyone’s face. Remember Cool Runnings, the Jamaican bob sled team, or The Mighty Ducks, a rag tag neighbourhood hockey team? Well, I believe I have found Cambodia’s very own – and what a happy bunch they are.

The Phnom Penh Cricket Club is made up of a large group of seven- to 16-year-old boys and girls in all shapes and sizes. The team is made up entirely of kids from local schools who come together every weekend to spend two hours training at a local sports ground. Equipment consists of junior cricket bats, some stumps and a tennis ball. What else does one need, really?

To create a sense of belonging, and to deal with the short attention span of Gen-Z (or whatever generation the current juniors are), teams have been formed with cool names like the ‘Warriors’, ‘Ninjas’ and ‘Dragons’. Each team has players with varying skills, and as I have found out over the last few weekends, there are some great personalities on the field.

It’s really heartening to see so many girls participating, often outplaying the boys with ‘classic catches’ and real patience when batting. Last week there was a young girl, no taller than a bicycle, and boy could she bowl. Dead straight and no bend in the elbow – who would have thought?

There are little pocket rockets who play plenty of wild swings, throw their bat in frustration and support their team mates louder than professional cheerleaders could. Perhaps it’s their rayon Angry Birds matching t-shirt and shorts combination that gets them so worked up. Older boys in their low hanging skinny jeans and rapper hats also join in, pulling their pants up as they run between wickets. Technique is secondary to enthusiasm. Baseball swings and sling-shot bowling… who cares? They love it.

Their coach, and the organiser of the team, is a Hong Kong-based cricket fan who spends 20 days a month in Phnom Penh as part of his passion for developing cricket in Cambodia. Cricket Cambodia is now a member of the Asian Cricket Council, which is an achievement in itself. Assisting him are a team of volunteers including one of the dads and a young Cambodian fellow who religiously wears his cricket whites every week.

The inaugural Phnom Penh Cricket Tournament will be held later this month with the final on June 30 held at the old (Army) stadium, the culmination of a two-day round robin event where all six teams will participate. Anyone can watch and cheer the teams on; I’ll certainly be there.

WHO: Anyone with a penchant for sticky wickets
WHAT: Inaugural Phnom Penh Cricket Tournament
WHERE: 3G Sports Centre, National Assembly Street, opp. Australian Embassy (June 29); & RCAF Stadium, north of Chroy Changvar Bridge roundabout, Russei Keo (June 30)
WHEN: 1-4pm June 29 (3G) and 9am-5pm June 30 (RCAF Stadium)
WHY: “I tend to think that cricket is the greatest thing that God ever created on Earth – certainly greater than sex, although sex isn’t too bad either.” – Harold Pinter

Breaking the law

Rules, as we all know, were made to be broken. Especially rules that are outdated, outmoded and outrageous. Surely no one ever truly intended men and women to live under the yoke of such despotism as the Indonesian decree that anyone caught masturbating can be decapitated? Or the law that in France one cannot name a pet pig Napoleon? Or the one where, in the UK, a pregnant woman can relieve herself in a place of her choosing, even in a policeman’s helmet? Actually sir, let that particular law of the land remain!

But the point is that there comes a time in every nation’s evolution when its rules and laws should be reassessed. Picked apart and re-made, if not broken. This is essentially the task that author, Fulbright scholar and grumpy feminist punk Anne Elizabeth Moore set a group of young Cambodian women when she asked them to rewrite the Chbap Srey (‘Women’s Law’). The result of this complicated, complex and at times completely hilarious exercise is New Girl Law, published in March: Moore’s docu-memoir of how 32 Cambodian girls imagined a better world and a better set of rules for generations of women to come.

For those not versed in its teachings, the Chbap Srey is quite simply Cambodia’s codification of idealised femininity. Literally translated as ‘Women’s Law’, the Chbap lays out an age-old set of behavioural principles by which good girls should live: obedience, inferiority, pliability, passivity. Sound familiar? Moore is quick to point out that these “virtues” are hardly unknown to women worldwide; all Cambodia did was inscribe them into an actual factual rulebook instead of inculcating ladies by even more sinister means. Taylor Swift’s lyrics, for example.

So why, I hear you right-on sisters wail, why bother to rewrite the Chbap Srey at all if it’s as bad as Taylor Swift? Why not just chuck the old law out wholesale and start the feminist revolution? Why would a riot grrrl like Moore fanny around writing a book about making sexism a little bit more palatable?

The answer in fact lies in one of Moore’s greatest strengths: her refusal to bring a moralistic sense of rectitude to bear on Cambodia. Hailing from a punk-feminist background, she does not adopt the stance that the West is some sort of idyll when it comes to women’s rights. New Girl Law is structured as a series of collaborative debates between Moore and her young female charges on how best to strengthen women socially and legislatively in the real world, Cambodia today. The author is fully aware of her home nation’s shortcomings, historical and contemporaneous, which enables her to steer clear of the NGO saviour narrative. Nicholas Kristof and Somaly Mam, take a lesson.

Of course, this refusal to moralise to the 32 women whom she challenged to rewrite the Chbap Srey means that Moore had to compromise. The 20 resultant ‘Girl Laws’ contain some edicts which read a trifle oddly to Western feminists: the seemingly androcentric “Girls should be brave enough to make eye contact with and speak to boys,” or the passive-sounding “Be patient.”

Musing on patience, Moore told the Phnom Penh Post: “I actually think that my body of work and history of being in the world presents a pretty clear view that patience is always bad and so when it was sort of presented to me as not only the most important thing but as the foundational thing from which we will build this project together, I was sort of like: ‘Oh, okay.’”

These may not sound like the words of a woman in the throes of making big compromises, but bear in mind that for Moore they are probably a big deal. She is after all an author capable of writing “men greeted each other loudly in congratulations, probably just for being men, I didn’t know”. Now, the ladies of The Advisor are not averse to a spot of feminist bovver ourselves from time to time, but that stuff smacks of the First Wave rather hard.

These are tiny little niggles, though. New Girl Law is, get ready for it, an important book. It’s important not just because it’s funny and warm and thought-provoking, but because through it you hear the voices of young women in the developing world. Advocating for themselves, asking for their rights, breaking the rules. These are voices that are normally silenced. The scope of New Girl Law’s success can be gleaned by the fact that it ran up against four years worth of publication and distribution problems in the US: “modes of censorship”, in Moore’s terms. If The Man tried to censor it, you punks know it must be good.

WHO: Anne Elizabeth Moore and 32 future women leaders
WHAT: New Girl Law: Drafting a Future for Cambodia
WHERE: Bookshops across Cambodia
WHEN: Now
WHY: Rules were made for breaking. Especially sexist ones (this is not a joke)

Vôtre in a vacuum

The never stopping Phnom Penh scene endeavors creating new restaurants and French cook Ludovic Moulin found his way through it; sell unique and high-end products to let people enjoy his art of French cuisine at their favorite place: at home or in a restaurant.

Have you ever heard of Vikings fishing for their salmon, letting it cook throughout a season by burying it in the ice of their land with salt and sugar? Well, Ludovic did and you can now find this Gravlax Salmon in town… Following the Vikings’ mastery, it is so smooth that your tongue barely feels it; a hint of dill pampers your taste buds to make it one of the most delicate foods you would find here. And no wonder; the former Chef of the best table in Phnom Penh prepared it for you.

With more than 10 years in Cambodia, half of them at the residence of the French ambassador, Ludovic is one of French cuisine’s rare gems here in Cambodia. Next to The Deli, on Street 178, there is now a small boutique where you can get his boeuf bourguignon, coq au vin and salmon gravlax for less than $10. A chic restaurant might have it too, but now you can get it directly from the man himself and be regaled in the comfort of your own home.

For two years, Ludovic’s mind had been wandering; he wanted to create top-end dishes and be able to conserve them properly. In a country such as Cambodia, that can prove quite the challenge. So he developed vacuum cooking and opened Le Vôtre Traiteur catering services two months ago. “As long as the dish is stored away from air and light, it will be good and still healthy,” Ludovic explains. Vacuum- cooking food requires pasteurising. It also requires a step of “flash freezing” before vacuum packing, which stops bacteria from proliferating – the main reason a range of frozen foods can also be found at his boutique.

Fond of traditional cuisine, bœuf bourguinon à la Vôtre is basically a recipe developed by Ludovic’s grandmother, with onions and lardons giving flavour to the dish. As Cambodia modernises, he says, it’s always searching for new dishes and quality. “Our clients are not only expats but also Cambodians looking for delicate and quality dishes.” Le Vôtre’s aim is to be the sole caterer offering vacuum-packed foods in Phnom Penh, but also remain a professional canapés and cocktails lover. “When we do such things, we want them to look gorgeous and delicious.”

Le Vôtre Traiteur, #9A Street 178.