Fils-Aime says the move is an attempt to capitalize on some of "the heat and the action [that] is going on around new forms of entertainment" in Silicon Valley. According to Atonucci, Reggie says that Nintendo hopes to "develop more software that blends an entertainment experience with an educational or informational use" not unlike the company's Brain Age games, but most likely more inline with the wide array of non-traditional software experiences like Cooking Navi and Common Sense Training, currently only available in Japan.

Nintendo's experimental forays into using the Nintendo DS for navigating the Shigureden museum in Kyoto as well as installing the Nintendo Fan Network at the Seattle Mariner's Safeco Field are presumably good indications of how its hardware and software will expand the company's reach. Michael McWhertor

Nintendo opening new offices: an exclusive interview with Reggie Fils-Aime [Mercury News]

Nintendo used to make money by producing hanafuda (Japanese playing cards), but by the 1980's had moved on to video games. But that was eons ago! Nintendo still doesn't make hanafuda cards, unless there's some Mario tie-in, right? Right?!

Stumbling into a Family Mart off the interstate, somewhere in Hyogo, my blurry camera happened upon these Nintendo, Mario-free, hanafuda cards. Even though they were covered with dust, these cards are still being made by Nintendo. Price: Around US $17. Brian Ashcraft

More Here [Sloperama]

Fotos I took from my Shigureden day trip, but didn't previously post. More to follow.

Visit Arashiyama [Nintendo Japan]

In case you missed it or like links in order for easy reading, here's a recap of our Shigureden coverage.

Get Out Of Cities
How to Attract Loads of Old Folks
Japanese Do's and Don'ts
Learn About Hyakunin Isshu
This DS Ain't Sold in Stores
How to DS Navi
Granny Kicking Ass and Taking Names
Where's Mario?
Poetry Readings
Here's Mario
Card Playing Gets Nintendo VR
A Nintendo Well of Problems
Gamers Back in the Day
Sweating It Out [All Kotaku]

"Thank you very much," says a chorus of purple kimonos. They bow in unison as I make my way towards the door, but then backtracking to look at the celebratory bouquets.

In the lobby, I loiter for a bit. The purple kimonos already thanked me. So, if I leave now, they'll thank me again. How awkward.

I leave. Nobody says a word.

"Hello," says a 40ish year-old man trying to grow a beard. "Nihongo o shaberemasu ka?" Do you speak Japanese?

"Shaberemasuyo." Yes, I do.

The man is a producer and has the business card to prove it. Flanked by a cameraman and a sound guy in a bandana, he's trying to coax me into an interview. The cameraman smiles like a Cheshire Cat and focuses the lens, saying "wonderful" repeatedly. They've found their token white guy. Gold.

It's not live. Relax.
PRODUCER: "What was your favorite thing?"
ME: "The giant karuta game and the DS Navi."
Deep breaths, deep breaths.
PRODUCER: "How was that?"
ME: "Fun. A fantastic gaming experience."
Am I supposed to look at the camera?"
PRODUCER: "Was it difficult to use the DS?"
ME: "Not really. Some people's didn't work, but, ya know, nah."
Look at the producer and try to sound relatively intelligent.
PRODUCER: "Could children use it?"
ME: "Of course. It's a DS. But, I didn't see any children. If there were children, they could've used it. So, maybe. Yes. Definitely."
Okay Ashcraft, you're a dolt.
PRODUCER: "Do you think foreigners would be interested in this?"
Words. Getting. Caught. In. Throat.
ME: "Yes. Even if. Even if. Even if they're not interested in karuta, they might be interested in Nintendo and the DS."
It's over, and you're unharmed.
PRODUCER: "Thank you."
ME: "When's this going to be broadcasted?"
The camera's still rolling slick.

The producer says it'll be on tonight, and I head down the stairs and up the street. A young girl in an orange kimono glides by with her wool-covered father stomping along beside. And I start looking for a place to eat. Word is that Beat Takeshi or somebody famous has a restaurant around here. Now, if I could just find it.

Tradition in Kansai [Kotaku]

"There are vintage cards on the second floor," a purple kimono tells me. I clear the hardwood staircase and walk down a short corridor. The wall is covered in karuta.

An overweight man hands out clipboards. Surveys. I approach, and there's a slight recoil as he doesn't give me the clipboard.

"Can I have a survey?" I ask. I'm the only one that does. The only one that ever does.
"Of course. Excuse me. I'm so sorry." He hands me the survey.

Down another corridor, there's a window overlooking the rock garden down below. Glass cases filled with karuta provide a barrier between a sprawling 120-tatami mat hall. And I used to live in a six-tatami mat apartment, I think to myself.

A purple kimono is explaining the cards to that Japanese woman who's then explaining it to that British woman. I lean forward to get a good look and wonder if gamers got excited when new editions came out or gossiped with their friends about them. I mean, this is our heritage. This is what gaming what to people hundreds of years ago. This is what—

"Excuse me."

It the elderly lady and her husband with a glass eye are standing there with a blue clipboard.

"Yes?"
"We don't have to write our names on this, do we?"
"No. We don't."

I show her my survey. At the bottom, I wrote, "The DS Navi was really fun" in jumbo-sized Japanese. The woman thanks me, mentions it's time to go and shuffles off. Her husband one-step behind.

T is for Tradition [Kotaku]

This well puts forth five problems to solve before the moon reflection in the water gently goes down. The well is actually a touch screen, and the game reminds me of the DS brain trainers. You have to solve logic and memory type problems. I got four out of five. Yippie. :)

Welcome to Kyoto [Kotaku]

The timer on my DS counts down to zero. My allotted twenty minutes are up, and I go to return the portable at the exit in the main hall. Another game of giant cards starts up. Their movements are silent, as if they are on mute. I hand over the DS.

In a corridor behind the main hall, there are several small traditional card game booths. The English name they're giving them is "The Sensory Karuta Game: Best of Five Series." Players challenge the computer, by knocking cards out with the touch screen.

I think about playing, but decide to sit this one out. There's some hardcore folks waiting in short lines to play, and I don't feel like making an arse out of myself. Again.

As I'm passing the booths, I see a familiar face. Two, actually.

The elderly lady and her husband with the glass eye. He sits and watches patiently, and I watch him momentarily. Then move on.

Kyoto is Oozing with Tradition [Kotaku]

I enter the destination in the DS Navi and start my search for Mario.

My bluebird landes, Mario appears and my DS plays the Super Mario Bros. theme song. A girl in a purple kimono even starts clapping for me. Boy, do I feel special.

But, Can You Find Tradition? [Kotaku]

There's poetry on the walls. I haven't even taken a look. I go over and see gold Japanese script. The poem I'm looking at on the wall appears on my DS screen.

"Press this," says a purple kimono.

I do. A voice starts singing the poem. Then, I go to the adjacent poem, and the screen changes again. I press the touch screen, and a voice starts chanting. I go to the next poem. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Finding Tradition, Looking for Mario [Kotaku]

"Did you find him?" a purple kimono asks me.
"Who?" I ask.
"Mario."
"What do you mean?"
"He's somewhere in this map."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Where?"
"I can't tell you. It's a secret."
"Can you give me a hint?"
"Where in Kyoto would Mario be?"

What a Nice Thing to Find [Kotaku]

The seventy monitors turned into giant karuta (playing cards). One card appeared on my DS screen, which I then have to locate among the seventy giant ones on the HD floor displays.

I, along with everybody else, race to the corresponding card and hit the touch screen. A circle appeared. Correct.

Another small card appears on the DS, and I'm scanning for big sister. Old ladies buzz by, finding their cards. Bam, bam, bam.

I locate mine, and a new one appears. I don't even bother reading the beautiful Japanese written on the cards. Instead, I'm going on how the pictures look and am matching accordingly. Screw literature, I'm out to pwn old ladies.

Got it. What's next? What's next? The old lady next to me finds hers, and she's off. As I'm scurrying about, I feel a smile flash across my face. I want to laugh and high-five gramps. I'm having a blast. This is what gaming could be: getting your ass kicked by senior citizens in karuta. Wait 'til the retirement home hears.

The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Gaming [Kotaku]

"This is really difficult," says the elderly lady. Her husband with a glass eye stands a step behind.

"No, it's not you. Something's wrong with the DS," I say.

We're standing on a floor, built entirely of HD monitors. There must be seventy or so. A purple kimono quickly brings over another portable. She over-apologizes for the crapping out. Then, she explains to the elderly lady that there is a timer on the portable. We can only use it for twenty minutes. Then she gives a run-down of how DS Navi works.

Simply select a location in Kyoto (for example Kyoto Station), and then a bird will appear at your feet. Mine is a bluebird. The elderly lady's is gray baby chick-like pleasant. The bird will face a direction and start walking in that direction. So, if the bird is facing northeast, head northeast. The bird will continue to be a few steps ahead. The destination (in this case, Kyoto Station) will be marked with a circle. Walk to that circle and the bird will encircle the location and land. Music plays on your DS. You can even magnify the goal by pressing your DS. The monitor below shows a close-up.

Surprisingly, the elderly lady gets it, no problem. The portables may be crapping out right and left, but the interface is simple and clear. The elderly lady spends the next five tracking locations in Kyoto as her husband with a glass eye follows. One step behind.

The floor starts changing and fades to a night view.

Classical Kyoto materializes.

And then morphs to a lovely deep pink. One of the purple kimonos comes to the center and announces that we'll all be playing each other in a game. I look at the elderly lady and think, Grandma, if that's the case, prepare to be pwned.

Visit Kyoto [Kotaku]

ME: "Is this a DS Lite?"
PURPLE KIMONO: "Pardon?"
ME: "Never mind."

It may not be the most wanted Dual Screen on the planet, but it's pretty damn close. The DSes in Shigureden are outfitted with a tracking device, which is that round black dot in the upper right corner. What's more, the portable is wrapped in a beautiful embroidered cloth.

The touch pen is equally elegant.

Thing is, right after I took this pic, I opened the portable and the screen went blank. The DS crapped out.

Nintendo's Money Made This [Kotaku]

Barefeet move down a hallway. On the walls, there are plaques that explain Hyakunin Isshu. Above, there are Sharp LCD monitors that explain how to use the "DS Navi." Announcements from loudspeakers reiterate repeatedly. Still, what's DS Navi?

According to the pamphlet I got at the door, the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu is a classical Japanese poetry anthology, which contains one hundred different poems, each by a different poet. The word ogura was added to distinguish the anthology, which was edited here, something like eight hundred years ago. The poems later found their way into a card game.

I look out at the rock garden to my left. The TV crew is shooting video. For something built on Nintendo money, there sure is a great deal of restraint. Not that I was expecting Mario to meet me at the door. But knowing Nintendo, here's got to be here somewhere.

A purple kimono directs me to a ramp that leads into a dark hallway. I follow it to a black counter, behind which is another purple kimono. She's handing out what looks like a diary. I get closer and see that it's no diary. It's a DS.

Kyoto's Packed Full of Tradition [Kotaku]

The sweet scent of flowers perfumes the entryway. Congratulatory bouquets are stacked off to the side. In the doorway, a young woman in a purple kimono bows.

At the reception desk, there are three more women in purple kimonos. I check the price list. 800 yen for adults and 500 yen for junior/senior high school students.

"Well, I'm not a junior high school student," I tell the receptionist.

Next to me, an elderly lady and her husband with a glass eye laugh.

"Neither are we," says the elderly lady.

Women in purple kimonos scurry around, directing people here or there. I'm about to plant my Pumas onto the pink carpet when a purple kimono makes a beeline for me.

"Take off your shoes please," a purple kimono tells me in English.

I look down. Everybody's in their socks. Except me.

"This way," she says, leading me to a locker room. She selects a locker for me, puts my shoes in and shuts it, before scurrying off to help another visitor.

Okay, now I feel like a retard.

There's Tradition in Them Hills [Kotaku]

"You want to know how to find a fire?" my dad always used to say. "Don't follow the firefighters, follow the reporters." Boy, was he ever right. The guy wearing a "PRESS" armband lead me right to the Shigureden. There was a line formed and people out front.

Save for one twenty-something year-old guy (with a pink cell phone) and his girlfriend (hopefully with a different colored phone), everybody in the line is collecting their pensions and getting into movies for half price. A camera crew looms, shooting video of the small, assembled crowd. The producer keeps dragging the cameraman around, telling him to "get this" and "not forget that." Important people in dark suits guard the door.

"It's like a sport," someone behinds me says in English.
"A sport?" another says in a British accent.
"The one who takes the most cards wins."
"Oh, I see."
"We play card games during the New Year's holidays with our family."

I turn to see a Japanese woman gesticulating in a very un-Japanese way. She's lived abroad. Next to her is the British woman. Both of them are middle-aged and are chatting about the bunraku performance they saw last night. Ah, a cultural field trip.

Others talk about the relationship between the Shigureden and Nintendo, how the company fronted cash to build the space. But, I wonder if these elderly people lined up here today know that it's not only Nintendo money in this building. I mean, do they even know what a DS is, let alone what "DS" stands for?

At 12:00 Noon sharp, the doors open and a dark suit apologizes for the wait. The crowd moves forward slowly. Really slowly. One of the dark suits has to help the old lady in front of me up the stairs. A day with the geriatrics, AWOL from the nursing homes. This should be interesting.

Tradition in Kyoto's Hills [Kotaku]

The air's always a few degrees colder in Kyoto. I feel a chill as I step off the five-or-six-carriage train at Arashiyama Station. A handful of passengers file out slowly, passing through the ticket wickets. Likewise, I exit the station, and then it hits me. The air's not only colder, but it's cleaner.

Hungry, I slip into a convenience store, but skip out on the prepackaged snacks. I buy a can of hot coffee instead — if anything to keep my hands warm. Checking the chicken scrawl map I drew, I pass a pond with ducks and the adjacent automatic toilet. Arashiyama is nothing like my neighborhood. We sure as hell don't have ducks, let alone automatic toilets.

Several middle-aged men stand on a small bridge, smoking and fishing. Waterfeas swarm. I look over the edge and see another man down below. I turn to man next to me, who's just caught what looks like a sardine.

"You eat that?"
"Yeah," he answers, not even looking up.
I have a feeling he's been asked before.

He unhooks the fish and tosses it into a net that's in a bucket of water. Then, he clicks a green number counter. Guess he eats alot of them.

Smoke billows from a nearby kiosk. I order a miso dango, asking for extra miso.

"Not many customers, huh?"
"No. We're really busy in the spring when the cherry blossoms bloom."
"And the fall too, right?"
"That's right. Do you live in Japan?"
"Yeah, Osaka. First time here, though. Say, I'm trying to find something. Shigureden. Have you heard of it?"
"No. But, cross that bridge over there. Somebody over there should be able to help."

I thank him for the dango and head towards the bridge, eating the chewy mochi. Even in the dead of winter, Arashiyama is breathtaking. Amateur photographers crowd on the bridge and snap digital pictures of mist-covered mountains. Osaka, this ain't.

On the river's edge, men burn wood in oil drums and wood shacks offered boat rides. A moonfaced girl stands near a row of rickshaws, while a young man offers to show a pack of Chinese tourists the sleepy town. Outside pricey restaurants there are sedans with drivers waiting for somebody important.

As far as locations go to celebrate Japanese card games, Nintendo couldn't have picked a better one. Now, if I could just find the damn place.

Nintendo Finds Tradition in the Hills of Kyoto [Kotaku]