sayonara dairyland

I miss seeing hydrangeas everywhere.

2010-08-13T13:59:00.002+09:00

I've been back in the U.S. for a while now...and I've yet to wrap up this site, mostly because I've been catapulted back into the "my job requires actual work" club. But I'm also dawdling behind because how does one possibly wrap up such an experience? And once I figure it out, I suppose it's really over.

I should really use my breaks from lesson planning to sort through the last of my photos, but it's not often I stay in a house with a pool in the backyard...

Vicki saves the day!

2010-07-12T15:40:00.032+09:00

It's been said you haven't seen beautiful until you've seen Nikko, and signs beckoning tourists with the slogan "Nikko is Nippon" are plastered throughout Tokyo's train stations. A visit was another check off my list of final destinations to hit during my last few weeks in Japan, so we set off on a Friday afternoon. Perhaps too late in the afternoon...Never have I been so happy to be holding a train ticket, as I was to have this one in hand: a seat on the last train to Nikko of the day. After rushing to make multiple transfers, we were told by a station attendant at some random station on the north edge of Tokyo that the last train to Nikko was sold out. After a moment of utter panic and visions of sleeping on benches in the station, our swell travel companion Vicki went upstairs and sweet-talked a younger, less disgruntled attendant into taking us all the way around to the ticket booth and through the ticket-acquiring process step by step to get us seats. The train was not even close to being sold out. Psh!After spending the night in a roomy hostel on a river, we walked past the sacred Shin-kyo bridge and up into Nikko National Park, a forest of UNESCO world heritage temples and shrines. The elephants were carved into the peak of this Toshogu Shrine structure by an artist who'd never seen an elephant before, but had heard of them in stories:And next we came to another famed carving in Nikko: the three monkeys that formed the "Hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil" saying; this carving was displayed as a message to children, and monkeys on other panels were positioned to convey messages to the elderly, the married, and more.The whole crew: Vicki, Davin, Lauran, and Jaime:

Breaking the shrine frenzy for lunch, we slurped noodles then took a bus to Kegon Falls, a nearly 100-meter waterfall west of town.

Then we all walked through a few souvenir shops along Lake Chuzenji-ko, where I saw this pup with a "Please don't touch dog" sign on its back:Then we took a little rest on the docks by the hazy lake, looking out at, of course, paddleboats (have I mentioned paddleboats?)!

It was only afternoon, but we began the trek home in order to be absolutely sure to make it back to Shizuoka without incident. Which we did, even with a stop in Tokyo for big-city dinner after a day wandering the woods.

Itadaki Boom-Boom Fest

2010-07-06T01:30:00.032+09:00

On June 6, a few of us attended the Itadaki Boom-Boom Fest, a music festival on the grassy field atop the Nihondaira in Shizuoka. It was a bit overcast, or we may have been able to view Fuji as the backdrop over the side of the hill.There was music all day alternating between the main Green Stage, the smaller Blue Stage, and the Tribal Stage (which was a tipi powered by a nearby wall of solar panels). The event was appealing to me not only because of the live music (at a time of very little live music in my life), but also because of its focus on sustainability. Participants were asked to bring their own cups, dishes, and chopsticks (if they didn’t, they were charged a deposit and given reusable items to return at the end of the day), and electricity for the lighting and sound on the Green and Blue Stages was produced by bio-diesel generators (cooking oil was being collected at the event as well). Thus, our plastic Wisconsin Badgers cups made an appearance...and there was tons of good food: curries, fried potatoes, pita pockets, and more.A make-your-own reusable chopsticks station!The candle tree, which stood next to the tipi and lit the area during the early evening performances:The festival was two days long, but we attended only on the second day. There were plenty of folks who had worm themselves out on Saturday and spent Sunday taking naps (anywhere and everywhere):Matt made a friend! A fun little group played in the tipi, and their set featured the Star Wars theme played on recorders.The disco ball and food stands lit up the damp dark...it started to rain when the sun went down, but the show went on.The Shibusashirazu Orchestra took the main stage for the final performance of the evening, and it was quite the finale. Another disco ball was carried out on a giant cot, and a crane came down and slowly swooped the ball up into the air above the crowd...all whilst the orchestra rocked and dancers in sparkly dresses waved giant bananas and spatulas to the beat.At the end, the lively orchestra came out to the stage's edge, and guys with flaming batons climbed scaffolding to twirl and spit fire above the crowd. Our clothes were still wet from the rain, but we did a little dance and when the show finished we collected our bags and our neglected tarp, which had collected a nice pool of water. How awesome to have an adventure of a day, finally getting to watch some live music, and so close to our house!

Haunted Shizuoka

2010-06-29T01:40:00.021+09:00

Just beyond the city limits of Shizuoka City is Utsunoya Pass, a once-daunting mountain crossing that travelers on the Old Tokaido Road (the historic route from Tokyo to Kyoto) hiked between the villages of Mariko (in present-day Shizuoka City) and Okabe (recently incorporated into Fujieda City). We set off with cameras to first visit the tiny settlement of Utsunoya, a strip of traditional houses nestled alongside the mountain.This photo was inspired by Yuna, our photographer friend who has a thing for rust:Despite having been warned by my students and Shizuokan friends that the place is haunted (cameras malfunctioning in/around the place, people feeling strange, ooOOOoooo!), we hiked up to the entrance of the Meiji Tunnel, the first tunnel through Utsunoya Pass, constructed in 1876.Ain't afraid of no ghosts. Besides, the tunnel's only 200 meters long...Really, the only spooky part was that it had started to thunder when we exited the other side (below is the view of Utsunoya Pass from the Okabe side...a 4-lane highway now cuts through the mountain below the site of the old Meiji Tunnel).Then, as we waited for the bus, it poured...rainy season, after all. This visit was one more check off my "must-see before moving home" list. And sorry for the misleading title...not even any strange white shapes showed up on our developed photos.

A Royal Finale

2010-06-26T13:07:00.021+09:00

My last day in Seoul was spent wandering the grounds of Changdeokgung and Gyeongbokgung, two palace complexes of the Joseon Dynasty. The structures within each compound were completed between 1395-1412, and although the majority of buildings were destroyed or damages during the Japanese occupation of Korea, Changdeokgung was used as a royal residence even until 1926. The details of these places were amazing!Gyeongbokgung is the bigger, main palace complex (with guards!):Then I left the palace district and walked through the city center to the markets. On the way I passed elaborate lanterns, fountains, and some funky urban art. I even saw a herd of cyclists assembling for a Critical Mass ride! Seoul is a very cool city, with lots happening above ground and below in the underground markets. Once I picked up a bundle of Korean nori (Korean seaweed is slightly thinner and saltier than Japanese seaweed) from an open-air market, I was set to return to Japan, for a direct-comparison taste test, and to live it up for the few weeks I had left before moving home to the States!

Touring the DMZ

2010-06-25T10:50:00.032+09:00

My first day in Seoul, I jumped on the opportunity to take a ½ day tour of the DMZ. With the sinking of the Cheonan, security was tightened, but tours remained in operation (eventually, with South Korea’s formal accusation of North Korea as the culprit for torpedoing the ship, many tours were suspended); I was able to visit the family reunification area, a tunnel dug by North Korea under the DMZ toward Seoul, a hazy overlook, and a train station built for Sunshine Policy propaganda. First is a park in the DMZ where families that are divided across the border can meet if those on the north side are granted permission to leave.

Next we got to walk down into one of the tunnels that the North Korean military dug under the DMZ toward Seoul; this was the third of four tunnels uncovered by officials, though it's suspected that many more exist. Donning hardhats, our group hiked down into the dripping, low-ceilinged tunnel, walls dotted with dynamite holes and painted black so that if discovered, the North Koreans could assert that the tunnel was an abandoned coal mine (even though the area is granite).

Next we visited an overlook: no cameras past the yellow line. Hands at your sides, but not in your pockets. Absolutely no pointing. You are being watched by the North Korean military. When I put my coin into the binoculars, I could see through the haze to the hills of North Korea, razed of trees both for fuel and to prevent people from finding hiding places.
Our final stop was Dorasan Station, a gleaming train station constructed during the Sunshine Policy period of warming between the North and South. This propaganda was meant to encourage North Korea to reunify with the South and resume rail service between Seoul and Pyeongyang. At present, Dorasan Station is the last stop on the line north from Seoul, but if trains were allowed to cross the North's border, people could travel from the southern tip of South Korea all the way to Paris, France! But for now, the South of course remains an island.

Our little group was dropped off in downtown Seoul in the early afternoon, and I wandered my way toward the Seoul Tower for a sunset view of the city.

Aww...locks of love packed onto the wire railings:

After perusing the bright and busy shopping district, I took the subway back to the best hostel ever. Next up, photos of my last day in Seoul...and of my last month in Japan!

Korea’s San Francisco

2010-06-10T19:14:00.021+09:00

The train whisked by block housing high-rises and pockets of heavy industry between lush forested hills and rice paddies, during my 2-hour ride to Busan.While the South Korean landscape is quite similar to Japan’s, Korea seemed to have more open space, and far more tall buildings. Of course Japan has skyscrapers, and blocky, minimalist apartment complexes sprawl out from its major cities for kilometers. Still, one of the things that surprised me most when I arrived in Japan was that it’s really not that built up (because of earthquakes?)—even Shizuoka’s tallest structures top out at just over 20 stories. But in Korea, apartment buildings easily clearing 20-30 stories stood in squared-off clumps in seemingly the middle of nowhere. I suppose the country (which is more dense than Japan) keeps its green space when residents are crammed into skyscrapers (and I’m not saying this is a bad idea).

And to conclude my ill-informed compare/contrast session: Busan actually was a lot like San Francisco! I’d read that the cities were strikingly similar in climate, topography, and “cosmopolitan atmosphere”—and Busan indeed had a sparking bay spanned by bridges, fishing boats and fish markets, and an upscale shopping district with all the typical brands.

I had to walk a few blocks to transfer between train lines...

Then I walked into the train station to hear Nancy Sinatra’s “Sugartown” playing on the soundsystem. After my second train ride, I stepped out of Busan Station and…now that’s weird:

On my way to Busan Tower:

Exploring the water's edge:

The fish market was bordered by a dried fish market...and further on, a strip of herb shops.

After a full day of wandering, I took an evening express train all the way up to Seoul.

First stop: Pizza Hut, second stop: ancient cultural capital of South Korea

2010-06-07T22:50:00.036+09:00

Before I came to Japan, I was deciding between jobs in Japan and South Korea; I knew whichever I chose, I definitely wanted to visit the other. Well, it took me a year and a half, but I finally spent a week in May hopping around South Korea between Gyeongju, Busan, and Seoul.

I considered taking a ferry, but there are quick, cheap direct flights twice daily from Shizuoka to Seoul (and we all know poor weather can make the most scenic ferry ride vomtastic). Since Seoul is a popular travel destination for many foreigners here in Japan, I’d got a heads-up on the Pizza Hut located at Seoul Station. Since I hadn’t actually eaten at Pizza Hut in ages, I can’t say I was feeling deprived in any way…it’s just, there was something about it being uber-American and available that beckoned me in for a personal-pan cheese and giant Mountain Dew. Don’t scoff at me, Internet; I ate Korean food the rest of my trip.

I picked up my dirt-cheap 3-day all-you-can-ride rail pass and hopped a train to Gyeongju, a city in the southeastern corner of the peninsula that was capital of the ancient Silla Kingdom; I read that Gyeongju is to Korea what Kyoto is to Japan. All aboard.
I wandered through the quiet town to find Sa Rang Chae, a traditional Korean house divided into guest rooms. This was mine:

Despite the dreariness, I took a bus southwest of town to Gyeongju National Park, where I visited Bulguk-sa and Seokguram in the forested hills. Bulguk-sa is a temple complex on the side of Toham-san mountain. A temple was first constructed here in 550; the complex grew to include 80 buildings, but after feuds in the 1500’s and the Korean War, only about 8 reconstructed buildings stand today. Nevertheless, Bulguk-sa is the most visited temple in Korea and the brightly-detailed wooden structures are really something to see.

Buddha's birthday was a few days before my visit, so I'm not sure if the lanterns were displayed for the holiday, or if they're always up.

The drizzle had become a downpour by the time I reached the exit gate, so I ducked into a tiny shop for bibimbap (hotpot of rice and vegetables with egg scrambled in), spicy tofu soup, and the requisite assortment of kimchi/pickles.

Seokguram, or "Stone Cave Hermitage," is a grotto carved out of the side of the mountain, an hour's hike above Bulguk-sa.

Along with a few other tourists, I sloshed along the winding, lantern-lined trail for a look at the carved-out cave housing the pale stone Buddha, currently protected by glass inside this wooden building:

Back in town, the sun made a brief appearance, so with a change of shoes and socks, I visited Cheomseongdae, which is possibly the oldest astronomical observatory in Asia! While it just looks like a giant stone bottle, this 9-meter tower was built around 640 using specific calculations based on star positions.

In the late afternoon, I wandered around 20-some Silla Dynasty burial mounds in Tumulus Park. The park also houses a museum which displays a cross-section of a mound: the coffin is placed on the ground, a small wooden structure is built over it, then the structure is piled with rocks, the tallest mound in the park reaching 23 meters high.

Kings and queens were buried in joined mounds such as this:After hanging out in the guesthouse's common area post-dinnertime with a couple German guys and a family from France, the next morning I was off to Busan, Korea's principal port!

Sumo!

2010-06-05T17:16:00.020+09:00

Every year, a Grand Sumo Tournament is held three times in Tokyo, and once each in Nagoya, Osaka, and Fukuoka. A tournament lasts two weeks, and I caught the bouts on a Sunday midway through the May tournament in Tokyo.

Unfortunately, I have very few, poor photos of this whole experience. It probably wasn't the best idea to stay out until 3 a.m. the night before, forget to charge the battery in my regular camera, etc. So my tiny digital I took, thinking perhaps it would be for the best if the hardcore sumo fans started to get ridiculous and jostle other folks in the crowd...oh wait this is Japan.

Anyway, you know you're in the right place when you step off the subway and two sumo wrestlers in yukata (lightweight kimono) pad by. We actually walked amongst a few competitors toward the flags displaying participants' names, flapping in front of the drum tower where taiko is played to announce the start and finish of each tournament day.
We arrived during the third-tier rounds and were able to steal box seats until the place started to fill up.

At this arena, "box" seats = four pillows in a barred-off box. Not what I'd imagined. Way better than our actual seats......which were up here:

Regardless of where I was seated, the whole experience was unforgettable. The second-tier guys walked in and formed a circle up on the dohyo (sumo ring/platform), performed a series of ceremonial movements, then filed out; this signaled the start of the intermediate matches.

After all the intermediate matches, the super-famous top-tier wrestlers came in and performed the same ritual before their bouts commenced.

There aren't weight limits in sumo as there are in wrestling or boxing, so throughout the day we got to see some (relatively) little guys go up against really huge dudes. And even up in the cheap seats, some spectators got pretty fired up cheering for their favorites. The wrestlers would face each other in the ring and do this whole psych-out bit first, then return to their respective corners to wipe their faces and toss more salt out into the ring. They'd return to face off and complete a few distinct movements, then with all anticipation mounted, the wrestling would start...and sometimes end seconds later. It was pretty awesome when a pair would deadlock and we had time to cheer before one took the other down. The sandy surface was groomed between matches, and quite meticulously before a pause between bouts for a ceremonial dance:

Then the day's matches were all finished, seemingly quickly. And my camera was dead. I hope to post a few more photos of the matches if I can snag some from a friend's camera...the more close-up sumo butts the better, right?

Fuji 5 Lakes

2010-05-31T15:03:00.025+09:00

After our great Hakone transportation adventure, Jaime and Brian had to get back to work on Friday, but Davin and I stayed in Gotemba, with plans to visit the Fuji 5 Lakes, a chain of small lakes dotting the north side of Mt. Fuji. We parted ways on the train at sunset, half back to Shizuoka, half off to the Gotemba Kogen Brewery (My glass looks bigger, but his was bottomless).

Kawaguchi-ko looked inviting the next morning, but boating would have to wait. After Indian food, our afternoon was spent spelunking two of the area's many lava tubes formed from volcanic eruptions.

Some great info on what to expect from our cave experience:

Saturday was the epic day of obsessively observing Fuji from every possible vantage point, framed by every beautiful flower or tree. Leaving the pension and hiking toward the Kawaguchi lakeshore:

Along the north side of Kawaguchi-ko, gorgeous weather bringing out anglers and waterskiers galore:

Hiking along the east side of the lake (OMG cherry blossoms!) to visit lavender fields and eat lavender twist ice cream:

Then, out onto the lake in the most cheerful vessel! I have since looked into the cost of these things, however, and I think I can kiss my dreams of owning one goodbye.Our last stop was Fujiyoshida, to visit the radar dome that was first stationed on Fuji's peak in 1936, where it collected life-saving meteorological data for decades (It now looks back at its former home in the distance). We had a spicy hotpot, with a lump of tofu resembling the radar dome, across the street at the Fujiyoshida bierhall, then made a wide curve around the mountain by train to our home on the southwest side.

We ended up seeing only 3 out of 5 lakes: Yamanaka-ko, Kawaguchi-ko, and Sai-ko, but not bad for only 2 days, and for relying on public transportation!

Putting the fun in funicular.

2010-05-24T21:56:00.026+09:00

Ahoy, matey.

Thursday, April 29 was a national holiday, so Brian, Davin, Jaime, and I took off for Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park, where the main attraction is transportation. With the purchase of the Hakone Free Pass, visitors can enjoy unlimited use of four different modes, in fact—boat, alpine railway, funicular, and cable car—which together make a complete loop around the area, offering views of clear lakes, forests, sulphurous hot springs, and snowcapped Mt. Fuji if the weather cooperates.

Not even windy, rainy weather could dampen our pirate ship fun on Lake Ashinoko; we had run of the deck since the other passengers were all huddled inside. Fire the cannons!

Land ho! In the village of Hakone, a reconstructed checkpoint of the Old Tokaido Road, the historic coastal route from Tokyo to Kyoto.

Recovering from the incident five minutes prior when a fisherman cast into the wind and hooked Brian's pants, wrapping him with line:

Then on to Japan's oldest alpine railway! It switchbacked slowly up one side of a huge hill by moving back and forth on graded tracks.

All that pirate ship excitement took a lot out of my groupies.

But next came the FUNicular. This elevated railway took us from the alpine train station higher up in the hills to connect with the cable car system.

The Hakone Ropeway holds the Guinness Book record for "World's Busiest Gondola Lift"! The day we visited, it had been shut down all morning due to rain and high winds, but the late afternoon sun showed up and the weather calmed just enough for the ropeway to open for a couple hours.

It was still quite gusty, causing our gondola to sway as we passed over a valley dotted with wisps of steam venting from sulphur hot springs.

We reached the crest of the hill, and there was Fuji, gorgeous in the glaring sun. The eight or so of us in the gondola gave a collective gasp :)

Then the ropeway descended to the lakeshore where we'd boarded the ship that morning, the loop complete.And in the ropeway ticketing area, we found the perfect destination for our next mini-vacation:

A spa near Hakone with a variety of themed bathing pools—including red wine, green tea, sake, coffee, and more—each bath with specific health-enriching qualities (so they advertise). Oh, Japan!

The White Heron

2010-05-24T12:24:00.011+09:00

Himeji Castle, known as "the white heron” for its whitewashed plaster walls, is the best-preserved castle in Japan, and the most visited. Built in 1346, it sustained some damage over the years, including being bombed twice in 1945, but always remained mostly intact. I'd never seen it, and when I finished teaching in Kansai I figured this could be the last time I’d be so close. So off I went, past Kyoto, past Kobe, to see it...even though it was pouring. At least the trains were empty.Across the moat and through the front gate...Lots of winding, strategically-designed paths to slow any advance toward the main building...And heron-themed sewer covers, naturally!

Kansai Livin'

2010-05-23T18:59:00.040+09:00

For a couple weeks last month, I subbed at a junior high school in Moriyama, Shiga-ken.

Upon arrival, I was informed that this city was famous for lightning bugs. Unfortunately, spring is not lightning bug season.
But the cherry blossoms were out around the lakeside town, which had some small, peaceful temples...

Although the school was a bit rougher. Two eighth-grade boys came to class with bleached-orange hair and rows of silver earrings up their lobes; one was wearing an oversized electric-pink hoodie that marshmallowed out from the neck and armholes of his black uniform jacket. In my last district, the moment these kids set foot on school grounds, they would have been hauled off by the Vice Principal (with several other teachers along for backup) to be stripped of jewelry and bright clothes, and thoroughly scolded whilst having their hair coated with black shoe polish. For real.

The school days proceeded mostly as normal...except for the day, my second day, when a group of ninth-grade exchange students arrived from Moriyama's sister city in Michigan, and I was responsible for making sure they were all right, translating for them when necessary. Did I mention I was subbing for a guy who is fluent in Japanese? The Michigan students were pretty good sports about watching classes for the day, except for when the music teacher asked two of the boys to please try to play the recorder along with the class, and they showed their disdain for her request by loudly squealing incorrect notes throughout the song. At the end of the day, I was asked to translate a PowerPoint presentation given by the head teacher, about the school and its traditions. I did all right with the slides that had pictures, but when it came to a few that merely displayed a graph or a pie chart, I could only guess...and laugh hysterically inside.

During the weekend that I stayed over in Moriyama, I got to explore more of the Kansai area, with Kyoto just 20 minutes south by local train, and Osaka another 20 minutes south from there. On Saturday, I started at Kyoto's Daitoku-ji, considered the head Rinzai Zen temple in Japan, still active today.

Never have I seen trees so old and tired, just wanting to return to the earth, yet propped up with so many crutches:

Then on to Osaka to visit the Momofuku Ando Instant Ramen Museum!

A replica of Momofuku Ando's kitchen, the birthplace of dirt-cheap, slightly tasty instant noodles: Did you know instant ramen went into space with a Japanese astronaut?! This is SPACE RAM.

Timeline of flavors developed since 1958:

Then, for just 300 yen, visitors could make personalized Cup Noodle, choosing the flavorings from a whole salad bar of dried ingredients. Decorate the cup, insert the noodles and seasonings, then send it down the line to be lidded and sealed in plastic.

Next, on to the Osaka Human Rights Museum, not quite so fun but actually really interesting. Exhibits explained the state of human rights in Japan today, then gave a bunch of information about groups historically (and even currently, in some cases) discriminated against, such as Koreans in Japan (many of whom came to Japan when Korea was under Japanese rule, and particularly women who were used as "comfort women" for powerful Japanese men), Okinawans (who, when they move to the mainland, have at times been excluded from communities), the Ainu people of northern Hokkaido (indigenous people who struggle to keep their culture alive), sexual minorities, people with disabilities and disease, and the Buraku (a social minority stemming from the caste system, which was dissolved in 1871, though these people are still sometimes limited in the type of occupation they can pursue).

Then it was time to catch a little Osaka (Namba-Shinsaibashi area) nightlife before heading back to my hotel home. If there's a place to be considered the seedy underbelly of Japan, I'm pretty sure it would be this neighborhood in Osaka.

Sunday morning, I took a loop around Byodo-in, the southern Osaka "phoenix temple" featured on the 10-yen coin.

Then another train ride took me southeast to Nara, the capital of Japan from 710 to 784 (yes, Nara was celebrating its 1300th anniversary), packed with temples and shrines within primeval forest, the whole place considered a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Kofuku-ji is a Buddhist temple complex that was established here in 710; the octagonal hall, Nanendo, and the five-storied pagoda, Goju-no-to, are the first main sights to greet visitors to Nara Park.

Then a wide walkway lined with souvenir shops and food stands leads through huge wooden gates toward the largest wooden building in the world!

Todai-ji, constructed in 752, has been destroyed twice over the years, rebuilt both times on a smaller scale. Inside the building is a display showing the dimensions of the original structure, and it's incredible. The original was far wider and taller, and on each side of the main building stood a pagoda twice as tall as the present five-storied pagoda in Kofuku-ji.

Todai-ji houses the largest enclosed Buddha statue in Japan (the one on the right), which in 752, took half of the bronze in all of Japan to create, putting the country into great debt.Yet another declared National Treasure in Nara Park is the population of tame deer. The whole town is filthy with deer, some lazing about waiting for tourists to feed them rice crackers, some hungrier once going after whatever's in tourists' hands or pockets. There's a festival each spring to de-horn them.

Well, the animals aren't entirely tame, or harmless without horns; I saw at least a couple kids get pushed over and frightened by a hungry or annoyed deer. I'm not sure anyone was paying attention to the Bite/Kick/Butt/Knock down warning signs.

Nara is a sister city to Gyeong-ju, the cultural capital of South Korea, which I just visited a few days ago! I'm once again quite behind on posting photos. Up soon: the largest castle in Japan, a sumo tournament, and my trip to South Korea.

Obama in Japan

2010-05-15T15:12:00.002+09:00

During a quiz game for the 9th graders at the end of last school year, I asked (using the grammar point): "Who's the man who is the President of the United States?"

A hand shot up. "Santa Claus!"

Ms. Teramoto and I looked at each other and started to laugh. I thought for a moment.

"Oh, okay. I said President—not presents!"

The whole class broke into giggles. Once we all calmed down and I'd gone to pat the Santa Claus girl on the shoulder, I asked the question again.

More hands.

"George Washington!"

"No, who is the President now, today?"

"Lincoln?"

"No..."

These students have to know the answer, I thought. My first day, when they learned I was from the U.S., they came after me chanting, "Yes we can!" and waving an American flag they'd found. Deep breath.

"Okay, who's the man who says, 'Yes we can!'?"

"OBAMA!" the class screamed in unison.

I was reminded of this incident when I was subbing in Shiga-ken, watching TV one stormy night when I was sick and didn't feel like moving an inch. TV shows here are like great puzzles to me: collecting the images and trying to put together enough words to figure out the story. First, I watched the news, which was maddening. I had to call a friend:

"The company GEOS is on the news and something bad's happening. Google it and tell me what's going on."

"They declared bankruptcy."

"Aha! Thanks." Etc.

The next show was a bit easier to decipher:
Japan's resident Obama impersonator was on! He was competing with a group of four other comedians for...some grand prize. The guys would make a flashy entrance and then try to woo the female host. Obama didn't win, but the guy definitely had the voice and mannerisms down, even though he was speaking in Japanese...except for, of course, throwing out a "Yes we can" at the end.

I watched a crime show after this (I was really sick, Internet! Plus in a way I was diligently studying Japanese.), and let me tell you, it was riveting. I missed the first five minutes, which was probably when they showed the crime taking place, but it was way more fun trying to figure out whodunit along the cute forensic medicine student who was on the case.

More soon on the rest of my time spent in Kansai.

Last Stop: Hanoi

2010-05-10T16:33:00.022+09:00

Back to busyness. Our first day in Hanoi we spent checking out several major points of interest, then the last day, the day after our boat trip, we zigzagged the streets of the Old Market, soaking it all in and picking up a few souvenirs before heading to the airport.

The Temple of Literature, which was founded as a Confucian temple and then became Vietnam's first university, was swarmed with elementary kids on a school trip.Some of them were listening to their teacher...We detoured through Lenin Park, then walked down an embassy-lined, security-monitored boulevard, which opened into to Ba Dinh Square, where Ho Chi Minh first read Vietnam's Declaration of Independence in 1945. The Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum now looms over the square, Ho's body preserved in a glass case inside, despite his wishes to be cremated and have his ashes scattered.The park surrounding the One-Pillar Pagoda was a good spot to rest a bit while waiting for the Ho Chi Minh Museum to open. Displayed inside were hundreds of Ho's letters, proclamations, journal entries, and personal effects, alongside conceptual art installations meant to symbolize various aspects of the revolution and war.

Then we saw a train pass, which actually amounts to a bit of excitement! First, some bells begin to chime. Then—and I don’t know how this works, but it happened every time we saw a train pass through a crossing—people from houses along the tracks come outside and pull wheeled, red-and-white metal gates out to block the crossing. Traffic stops, and then everyone waits…and waits some more, as the Reunification Express trains chug through town slightly faster than walking speed. The trains, which provide service from Hanoi to Saigon with numerous stops along the way, travel an average of 32 mph.

The tradition of water puppetry began in Hanoi, and the evening we returned from Halong Bay, we went to the Thang Long Water Puppet Theater. The puppeteers are hidden below the temple structure on stage, and accompanied by live music and voice actors, the puppeteers use long bamboo poles to make the wooden puppets dance on the surface of the pool. The elaborate synchronized puppet-dance routines were pretty cool.We walked around Hoan Kiem Lake that night, then returned in the morning to take the bridge out to the island pagoda. Then we spent the rest of the day walking the Old Market area near the lake; there was a district for everything: a couple blocks of shoe stores, then a section of hardware and home supplies, a block of woven mats/curtains/etc., and a strip of stores selling every party supply imaginable. We walked through a few food markets and saw some dog (at least I didn't take photos from the side with their faces).Then enjoyed a final round of spring rolls and fried noodles before we had to go.Hanoi had some great cafes. We ate at a few places—KOTO, the Tamarind Café, and Sozo (though that was in Saigon)—that not only had amazing food (The KOTO falafel wrap!), but also were run by organizations with the goal of getting young people off the street and training them in the hospitality trade. But we definitely supported a number of locally-owned holes-in-the-wall as well. I feel like we did a decent job of eating our way through the country...but unfortunately I ended up paying for that with a trip to the doctor after being back in Japan for over a week with a continued stomachache (which had started soon after we’d arrived in Vietnam) along with a few other lovely symptoms. Luckily, it was only gastroenteritis and with a 5-day course of antibiotics I was absolutely fine!

During our trip I was reading Catfish and Mandala, a book about a Vietnamese-American man’s experience returning to the country his family had fled when he was a child, to bicycle the length of it and search for resolution between his jumbled Vietnamese and Americanized selves. His experiences colored the places I traveled—from his story of being taken by some cousins to a bar in Saigon where each man drank a glass of vodka with a beating snake heart tossed inside to ensure virility; to his description of horns in heavy traffic sounding like a constant demand of “Me, me, me, me!” after he’d been asked so many times for money, help getting into the U.S., and more; to his conversation with a Vietnamese tour guide who struggled to enjoy his profession when all the tourists he hauled around to the country’s greatest treasures came from countries whose treasures were far bigger and more impressive. The author shared some far more positive experiences as well, and I can’t blame him much for the negative ones when he was bicycling hills in 90-degree heat, suffering from dysentery, and traveling with almost no money. We had a rather posh adventure compared to his, and I hope the photos say a bit about what a frenetic-yet-beautiful place Vietnam is in my mind.

Vote for Halong Bay

2010-05-10T01:12:00.047+09:00

We flew from Danang to Hanoi, but soon left Hanoi on a bus bound for the coast: Halong Bay, meaning "where the dragon descends" in Vietnamese. We boarded a pontoon that shuttled us from the port to the boat that would be our home for the first day of our trip.
No, no...our boat looked nothing like those above.

Once we left the traffic of oceanliners and fishing boats behind and were pointed into a vast, foggy landscape of rocky islet after islet, I realized why even Uncle Ho himself wrote of Halong Bay, "It is the wonder that one cannot impart to others."

So while I've done my best to capture the experience, you will have to visit yourself, to understand how incredible this expanse of over 3,000 scattered limestone rock formations is. A half-billion years BC, tectonic movement created sharp mountains on the bay floor, and a quarter-billion years after that, the mountains were pushed up to form part of the mainland. At this point weathering by wind and water carved out caves and other cool features in the limestone. Then around 10,000 BC, the whole area flooded again, creating the present-day landscape. And that is the extremely edited, English-major version of Halong Bay's completely badass geological history. After a couple hours of cruising, we entered a quiet bay and met up with a boat similar to ours, to collect a few more passengers. Then a man on a motorized raft showed up towing a mess of kayaks, which we used to go exploring! Kayaking the sea caves—seeing monkeys playing in the jungle, schools of flying fish zip above the still water, and jellyfish blubbering around within a paddle's length—was the highlight of the trip for me. The sky darkened, raft guy hitched up his cargo and motored off, and our junk cruised on to the area where we'd drop anchor for the night. It was so nice to fall asleep to the slight rocking of the boat. I may have slept more soundly had there not been cockroaches in the room. But we were in nature...gotta coexist, right? The next morning after breakfast, we docked at a larger islet and toured a huge cave. Our guide was especially keen on pointing out the rock formations he thought looked dirty (unpictured, sorry).

We passed a fishing village on our way back out into open water (about 1,600 people live in floating fishing villages amongst the islands of Halong Bay), then eventually arrived at the beach where our group would be spending the night in huts!

After happy hour and dinner in the common area, we played a bit of Phase 10 with a great couple from Germany. Then all too early in the morning, after a huge breakfast, we had to board a sketchy, sketchy raft:

...to be shuttled to a bigger boat, to be shuttled to our sleeping boat, which took us back to the port, to get on the bus to go back to Hanoi. Whew.

There were posters plastered around establishments in the Halong Bay area, urging visitors to go online and vote for Halong Bay to be one of the "New 7 Wonders of Nature"; the bay is one of 28 finalists in the contest.

And with this, I am almost finished posting on Vietnam!

Central Coast: Danang and Hue

2010-05-07T22:56:00.047+09:00

China Beach, just southwest of Danang, was empty on the overcast afternoon we arrived with “Paint it Black” in our heads. With our gear tossed into the $7/night room at Hoa’s Place, we took to the beach for some fresh air, the soft crash of waves a welcome shift from Saigon’s roar. The patterned sand was inviting, despite an assortment of garbage and a ridiculous number of washed-up jellyfish, and some cool coconut-shell-lookin’ boats sat parked on the low dunes. Peering through the ocean fog for a glimpse of Monkey Mountain, it was hard to imagine the history that took place on this now seemingly unvisited shore.At Hoa’s family-style dinner, we met a woman from Blair, WI who was traveling Vietnam after finishing her contract teaching English in Thailand! And then we were locked out of our room. Yes, a tiny piece of our key broke off in the lock and couldn’t be fixed until the next day, so with our bags locked inside, it was sweet dreams for us in our street clothes.

After getting our stuff back around noon the next day, we explored the nearby Marble Mountains in a light drizzle. Colorful pagodas were built into the hillside overlooking the beach, and the fog of incense drifted from several caves-turned-shrines.

There were lots of marble sculptures on display in the area and for sale in shops in town...but we read that this marble was actually imported from China, in order to preserve the landscape here. Interesting.Three hours after departing Danang, our bus—our crazy-packed bus that, when all the regular seats were full, distributed red plastic lawn chairs for people to sit in the aisle—arrived in Hue, the old imperial capital of Vietnam's Nguyen Dynasty. We got a $10/night penthouse room at Hue Halo hostel, complete with a roomy balcony. The next morning, we crossed the Perfume River and entered the Citadel, a sizeable chunk of Hue enclosed by a moated wall.

Passing by the Largest Flagpole in Vietnam, we crossed another moat and passed through the gates of the Forbidden Purple City, a UNESCO World Heritage Site.This is the front hall where the imperial family watched processions and ceremonies take place below on the promenade:And across yet another moat—this one home to a disgusting number of ravenous koi—was an expanse dotted by several preserved buildings, as well as several plaques denoting places where buildings formerly stood, before the Tet Offensive nearly obliterated the historical city. After checking out the imperial elephants, we exited the Citadel and walked back across the river...this boat was hauling along despite how strangely low it rode:We happened to be in town for the 35th anniversary celebrations of Hue's capture/liberation, so tiny red flags littered the sidewalks, flower arrangements were displayed in front of government buildings, and billboards were plastered with the propaganda of Uncle Ho.

Days in Hue sat around 75-80 degrees...great biking weather. The hostel owner lent us a couple bikes for adventuring to some outlying sights.

First, a ring in the countryside where the royals would come to watch elephants battle tigers! The elephant was considered an imperial symbol, so for the fights, the tigers were declawed to ensure the elephants' victory.

As we biked the hilly backroads to our next destination, we passed several incense-makers, marked by sticks drying out in the sun.

This quiet temple hidden in a pine forest southwest of Hue is the place where Thich Nhat Hanh studied Zen Buddhism for several decades. We seemed to be the only tourists visiting in the afternoon lull, and saw only a few monks, either walking the gardens or traveling the dirt paths on cruiser bikes.

We did see many foreigners, however, at the open-air DMZ Bar back in Hue, a popular watering hole and ending point for bus tours north to the demilitarized zone. After having enjoyed a relaxed few days of wandering desolate China Beach and laid-back Hue, we took off for the bustle of Hanoi.

Ho Chi Minh City

2010-05-04T21:00:00.039+09:00

Scooters darted every which way around the car, through seemingly uncontrolled intersections. Busses plowed through the swarm of traffic, blurting honks with every move. Our driver swiped a scooter and the scooter's load of newspaper bundles tumbled to the street. The second the man stopped to collect his cargo, a river of vehicles engulfed him. I’d be afraid to ride a bicycle here.

We were welcomed by an enthusiastic clerk at Hotel Bich Duyen, in a backpackers' alley just west of downtown of Ho Chi Minh City. After dropping our bags, we headed out into the teeming streets for some dinner and that infamous kick-you-in-the-face Vietnamese coffee.25 March 2010: the epic day of our Ho Chi Minh City Walking Tour. Map in hand, we first navigated a huge roundabout to see the place where Bill Clinton (!) ate pho (rice noodles and vegetables in broth, the Vietnamese national dish), then browsed the Ben Thanh Market, full of fabrics, shoes, lanterns, chopsticks, tea, coffee, food stands, etc.

We walked past the old French Colonial buildings in the downtown area: the People's Committee Building (shown), Fine Arts Museum, and Opera House...stopping in a park to check out some funky PSA posters regarding energy consumption.We visited the War Remnants Museum (originally named The House for Displaying War Crimes of American Imperialism and the Puppet Government), which had an amazing collection of Vietnam War photographs taken by photojournalists from around the world, including a woman from Shorewood, WI. Next we toured the Reunification Palace, which has basically stood frozen in time since April 30, 1975, when the North Vietnamese Army stormed the gates and raised their flag over Saigon. Quite eerie was the dimly-lit basement of yellowed wall maps, rotary phones, and stacks of worn radio equipment.A couple kilometers north we found the Jade Emperor Pagoda, unassuming with its crackling paint and small turtle pond out front (buy a turtle and write a message on its back with white paint, then toss it in the pond in hopes for a long life for oneself). The late afternoon was still sunny and in the mid-90's, but we made a final push over to the ritzy Sheraton Saigon, to watch the sun set over the city center from the rooftop bar.

The best Vietnamese breakfast: iced coffee and plain yogurt; a bitter, chicory-flavored jolt complimented by smooth sweetness. I'd been advised to try Vietnamese yogurt, and no foolin, that stuff was phenomenal!

The next day quickly became just as sweltering as the day before, but we determinedly took off to the west, toward the Cholon district of Chinese pagodas…

…but after a couple hours of walking we happened to pass a shopping complex/cinema, and retreated into the a/c to eat pho and watch Alice in Wonderland in 3D. When we exited the theatre, the darkened pavement indicated we missed a downpour. We walked past a couple of Cholon's pagodas, which were closed for the day, and a strip of bulk spice vendors—huge bags of dried herbs lined the sidewalks, and inside the shops were walls of tiny drawers and shelves covered with small jars.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have eaten those uncooked spring rolls. Anyway. After dinner we made our final wanderings in the rain, which had dampened a bit of the buzz 'round the alleys of the area near our hotel. Next: north to Danang and Hue.

Cambodia, Part 2

2010-04-23T23:35:00.020+09:00

We caved for a tuk-tuk the second day, to efficiently visit a few outlying temples of Angkor. Our first stop was Ta Phrom, covered in massive roots either grasping the crumbling blocks and holding them together, or slowly prying stones apart at the cracks. The surrounding jungle was reclaiming its territory, lending a certain spookiness to the place.

We next wandered through Preah Khan, an expansive structure with room after adjoining room, forming a long tunnel with various arms and outlying buildings, their carved stone walls tinted green and red from the jungle moisture. Unlike Angkor Wat, Preah Khan was very quiet, save for a constant, low buzz from the thick trees. Looking into the dense forest from its edge made completely plausible the presence of sizeable structures out there in the thick of it, yet undiscovered.

After a late lunch and brief rest in the shade, we rode out to Phrom Bakheng to climb up the hill (without elephant assistance) in time to see the sunset. This was the place to be, given the crowd; we got to see Angkor Wat in the distance, but only a bit of reddish sun before the sky clouded over. We hiked back down the hill in the hazy dusk, toward dinner and a dip in the pool. And that was Cambodia. We left the next morning in a purple propeller plane bound for Ho Chi Minh City.

Welcome to Cambodia!

2010-04-23T18:25:00.037+09:00

I was sadly misinformed about there being a Pizza Hut in the Seoul-Incheon airport. However, there was a Quizno`s and Caribou Coffee to treat ourselves during the 4-hour Sunday layover. Late that night we arrived in Siem Riep, and took a breezy tuk-tuk (motorized rickshaw) ride to the Green Palace Village, our brightly-painted hotel set far back from the dusty street. The gathering area out front featured a tiki bar, pool, and palm-frond huts shading lounge chairs or hammocks, all lushly bordered by tropical plants (glowing with twinkle lights after dark) and potted orchids strung up in rows. Geckos everywhere. A haven after what would be two full days of hiking through ruins upon ruins in the sun and sweltering mid-90`s temps.Borrowing two cruiser bikes proved the best way to explore the Angkor area. Most tourists rent tuk-tuks, but it was great fun to be pedaling the flat roads alongside the locals (they riding double), catching a cool breeze. On the first day, we visited Angkor Wat, UNESCO World Heritage Site and the largest religious structure in the world. And this is where people officially began asking us to buy things, which I unfondly recalled from visiting Thailand last year. Stand still, and be swarmed: Tuk-tuk? Bracelets, three for one dollar! You want cold drink? Very cheap! You want food? You want books? Scarf? Postcards? Tour guide? The constant inquiries—from both adults and children, who latch onto tourists and follow them, asking over and over, gradually lowering their prices, despite however many “No, thank you”s people may give—can be a difficult aspect of travel in this region. I know that most of the people who ask need the money. I think I understand why they ask. I imagine the vast majority are good people. But constantly warding sellers off, being ever wary of a scam, and being vigilant about carrying valuables was the most tiring part of the trip for me. Perhaps I’ve become less assertive and less cautious over the past year in the safety and complicity of Japanese society? This is not meant whatsoever to overshadow the fact that...Angkor was absolutely amazing. Nearly every stone surface of the massive complex was carved with intricate patterns, images of deities, script. Wooden beams bolstered crumbling walkways, and large chunks of rubble, numbered, lay in corners, waiting to be reassembled.
After lunch at a stand (fried noodles with vegetables...no chicken), we cycled on to Angkor Thom, and the million massive faces of Bayon Square jutting out above the jungle.We took a quick walk around Baphuon, and watched some Cambodian cows ramble past the Terrace of the Elephants......then pedaled back into Siem Riep for coconut-sweet potato curry and ginger soup in the Old Market, a lively cluster of cafes and shops, a more relaxed, mini version of Bangkok’s Khao San.

One more thing...

2010-04-09T18:27:00.004+09:00

...before I begin weeding through the thousand (yes, thousand) photos from my two weeks in Cambodia and Vietnam: School's out. The last week included a chorus concert (I took some video that I'll refrain from posting here because it was my first time using the camera's video function and of course I really should have tried it out beforehand as the video is more than a bit pixelated and crackly-sounding, which along with my motion-sickness-inducing camerawork makes for a real treat), as well as lots of rehearsal for the ninth-grade graduation ceremony...when to bow, which direction to bow, how long to bow, etc. The last day of school there was an assembly to give out awards for honor students, and there I had to get up on stage and give my final formal farewell to the students and teachers. When the head English teacher first told me I needed to give a speech, she asked if I could use about ten minutes. I couldn't tell if she was joking. "How about five minutes?" I asked. I alternated between English and Japanese, with a couple minutes dedicated to addressing each grade separately. I didn't cry. And an eighth-grade girl presented me with a pink bouquet when I finished.

Back in the staff room, I was given a bag of homemade strawberry caramels, a container of homemade pickles, and the World's Largest Cabbage. Seriously, it was bigger than my head. I went to dinner with one of the English teachers and her family, then I rode the train home with my huge bag of school supplies, my bouquet in one hand, and my giant cabbage in the other. I was sad to think I may never see any of these people again. But I also couldn't stop giggling at my huge. freaking. cabbage.

Then I got to the Shizuoka-Mt. Fuji Airport on Sunday, to fly off on vacation, and was greeted in disbelief by a whole herd of Okabe teachers. They were on the same flight, headed to Seoul for a long weekend. Too funny.

I'm off to the Kyoto area to substitute teach for a couple weeks. Fingers crossed that there's internet at my hotel and I can get a round of Cambodia photos posted...

Sayonara Season

2010-04-08T01:34:00.013+09:00

Tis the season for Shizuokans to bid Mt. Fuji farewell, as the air warms and hazes over the snowy peak, which fades away until fall. The school year has ended, and with spring break's arrival one of my Shizuoka besties, Jackson, moved to Tokyo to begin a new teaching job there. The last weekend before break, we took a trip back up the Nihondaira, this time to actually visit the colorful shrine at the end of the ropeway.

A really nice old man took this photo, then almost fell down the stone stairs behind him:Kunozan Toshogu is a Shinto shrine complex built in 1617 to honor the spirit of Tokugawa Ieyasu, a shogun from Shizuoka City who helped unify feudal Japan during the late 16th century. The complex contains all the original structures, meticulously upkept with bright paint and gold detail.

On the opposite side of the hill as the ropeway is a stone staircase overlooking the ocean and the strawberry greenhouses lining the coast. My guidebook states, "As you climb up the 1159 stone steps leading to the sacred grounds, you are purified by the magical power." But we went down the stairs instead of up.Once on the coast, we enjoyed a pitcher of staggeringly sweet strawberry sangria, then took the bus back to central Shizuoka. School ended the following Wednesday, and the next weekend, Jackson moved, and Davin and I were off to Cambodia and Vietnam.

Purikura!

2010-03-16T22:27:00.003+09:00

Of course I love photo booths. Even before I saw Amelie, they seemed somehow endearing—maybe because photo booths in the U.S. are mainly used for souvenirs, for recreation. They have a bit of nostalgic appeal, like Polaroids.

Here in Japan, in train stations and next to vending machines on street corners, there are those sterile, single-stool booths that bark robotic instructions then cough out strips of harshly-lit headshots in the appropriate dimensions to serve as passport and ID photos. But there’s also…purikura!Typically located in a section of a video arcade or in a corridor of a shopping center, purikura kiosks—big enough for a group of even 6 or 7 to comfortably pose—allow patrons to first select their photo backgrounds and lighting, then creatively align themselves for the shots, then use a touch-screen to adorn the photos with writing/thought bubbles/sparkles/hearts/clothing accessories and countless other modifications, before the postcard-sized collage of images is finally printed, for you to cut up and share with friends.
At the start of the school year, I’d ask students about their hobbies, and along with the typical answers of playing sports, drawing, watching movies, listening to music, and so on, some girls had told me their favorite pastime was purikura. I could never figure out what they were talking about, but now, do I ever get it. And no wonder these machines are so popular: when the print drops into the tray, you and your besties have been automatically airbrushed to your finest, with ivory cheeks, strangely redder lips, and accentuated eyes. For now, I can part with nostalgia for this eye-straining, color-saturated ridiculousness. My only complaint is that users have only a limited amount of time to add “extras” to the photos before they print, so you’ve got to work fast to jazz up all the images in time (for example, just above: top-right image = success; lower images = failure). Surely we just need more practice.

Fantastic 三年生 Farewells

2010-03-05T19:48:00.026+09:00

After 15 months in Japan, it’s official: I’ve become a manga character.I’ve already finished teaching at Osu and Okabe, and here at Aojima, the school year comes to a close with graduation on March 19. Since the 9th graders are taking their final high school entrance exams and rehearsing frantically for the year-end chorus concert, as well as fitting in a class trip to Tokyo Disneyland, I am teaching only 7th and 8th graders from here on out. Much to my delight, after my final classes with the 9th graders, I was showered with many amazing/hilarious/cryptic farewell messages. Basically, I plan to keep these forever and pull them out anytime I need a self-esteem boost.

Here are some of the best—it was difficult making cuts. And please don’t get the wrong impression from these samples: there were many flawlessly written messages. I really have helped these kids with their English, a little! It’s just that the messed-up messages are far more entertaining and endearing, of course. (You can click on some of the images for a larger version.)
How will I ever find another job that compares to this one?!

Kind of a big deal.

2010-03-04T23:04:00.016+09:00

Last Sunday, Davin ran the Tokyo Marathon in 3 hours, 45 minutes.

A few of us traveled along to cheer him on in his 26.2-mile/42.1-km feat. Jaime and I went out in Shibuya on Saturday night, so we got back to the hotel (City Hotel NUTS, by the way) not much before Davin had to wake up and get himself ready and over to the starting point.The day was cool and rainy, but the spectators were out in full force to see the 35,000 runners compete. I was not really looking forward to watching hordes of people in agony run past me all morning long—and yes, there were those people, naturally—but the costume selections of many runners really lightened the mood. In Ginza, we stood by some sweet ladies who were cheering for this guy:I also saw a couple dressed as Mickey and Minnie, countless clown wigs, a man with a giant hat in the shape of Mt. Fuji, a man with a giant cross tied to his back, and a guy who was running with an acoustic guitar (happily singing and strumming his way to the finish). Sorry I don't have more photos...I was holding an umbrella in one hand and a coffee in the other.

Here comes Davin!
And there he goes:
I swear, he really is in those photos. Need some help? He looked like this, courtesy of Joyce:
We hopped from stop to stop on the metro, trying (sometimes unsuccessfully) to see Davin pass by. When he crossed the finish line at Tokyo Big Sight, the sun was actually shining…and soon thereafter, glinting off Davin’s shiny new gold medal. Which I believe he is still wearing.We had a fantastic post-race feast at the Roppongi area restaurant, Gonpachi, which was Tarantino’s inspiration for the set of Kill Bill! Aside from monstrous blisters, I think Davin’s ready to run another marathon any day now. Perhaps I will work toward being a better spectator.

スキー好き!

2010-02-25T22:26:00.024+09:00

A number of factors have aligned to make it very difficult for me to watch the Olympics:

1. I don’t have a TV at home—at least not one with any reception, despite the fact that I live two blocks from the TV station.
2. Streaming nbcolympics.com is unavailable outside the U.S.
3. The vice principal holds the remote for the teachers’ room TV, and when he’s nice enough to turn the TV on, he watches only the Japanese athletes and turns it off when others are competing; women’s figure skating was on yesterday morning, and we watched the three Japanese competitors and no one else.

So then, for a little Olympic action, four of us who hail from the Third Coast hopped a train for the Japanese Alps, to reenact the 1998 Winter Games. When you’ve only skied in the Midwest, sure, you can say you can ski…in the Midwest. Davin and Jackson have been to the Rockies, so they were up to their usual badassery on snowboard and skis, respectively. To me, Nagano's intermediate runs were borderline horrific. Nevertheless, the slopes were powdery-perfect and the whole sweeping mountain scene was gorgeous. We zigzagged the Hakuba Goryu and Hakuba 47 resorts and I graced my fellow skiers with only one major fall…but I didn’t even lose my skis or anything, plus the snowboarder who cut me off even stopped to apologize for my snow-dive, which means it was all his fault, right?The rest of the weekend, we frolicked in the snowy woods—less familiar to us these days than ever before, basked in the kerosene heat of our little loft cabin, and checked out a few après-ski watering holes for darts, drinks, chimichangas, nabe (Japanese hotpot), and even a little Connect Four. Had I not been such a snot-fountain, I would have done it up right on Saturday night at the Tracks Bar fluorescent skiwear party, but alas…I settled for snuggling into the cabin’s bean bag chairs to watch Pump Up the Volume. Don’t judge me, Internet.
In other news, as I grow increasingly sad about this school year coming to a close, I am distracting myself with plans to visit Cambodia and Vietnam for the second half of March. My Vietnamese visa arrived in the mail yesterday, flights are booked straight from Shizuoka (on Mt. Fuji Dream Airlines, whose planes are hopefully fueled by more than just happy thoughts), and bungalow reservations are falling into line...
P.S. The title of this post roughly means "I like skiing!" The word for "like" in Japanese is pronounced nearly the same as the word "ski"...so saying that you like skiing is pronounced: "Ski ski!" Actually, if you want to be supercorrect, "Ski ga ski!" is better (but that makes this hilarious joke less funny)...at least I can impress some 7th graders with this sort of humor.

Silly Holidays Contest

2010-02-17T20:17:00.006+09:00

On February 2, when I was sitting around in the teachers’ room with one of the cool English teachers, I mentioned that today was a holiday in America. Part of my job is explaining snippets of my culture, y'know.

“Really? What holiday?”

I felt a tinge of regret.

“Okay…so…there’s this little furry animal, a groundhog, that lives…uh, underground…”

He seemed to know what a groundhog was (surely aided by my brilliant description); he had not, however, seen the movie. Perhaps I should have spared him the lesson, as we are all aware of the absurdity this “holiday” comes down to: a large rodent predicting weather patterns. Then again, the tradition has been mentioned in olde Scottish poetry, and has American significance dating back to German-American Candlemas celebrations of the 1800’s. And it is a little entertainment in the bleak midwinter. I suppose it would be a shame to deny Jimmy the Groundhog of Sun Prairie, Wisconsin his annual moment of glory.

When finally complete, my explanation was better-received than I’d anticipated. Maybe because we all have our silly holidays.

Setsubun, February 3, is a Japanese celebration to welcome spring, but involves some ridiculousness of its own. Due to its correlation with the Lunar New Year, this holiday is a time to bid the old adieu and ring in the new…and what better way to accomplish this than by making someone dress up like a demon, and then throwing things at him/her!Someone in the family plays the oni, the demon: basic paperboard masks readily available at local grocery stores, if you don’t have a more elaborate papier-mache one. They’re found next to the display of fukumame—roasted soybeans in plastic packages, all set to be torn open and thrown. The main event, mamemaki, or the throwing of beans at the oni, is accompanied by chants of “Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!” which translates as “Out with the demons! Good luck, come in!” If no one agrees to be the oni, tossing the beans out the door apparently has the same effect.

Along with the throwing of beans, many students told me they ate a number of beans equal to their age, plus one more for good luck in the upcoming year. And for school lunch the next day, we all got a little package of fukumame-nut mix.

There you have it, parents: if you want your kids to eat their vegetables, just tell them demons will come into the house if they don’t.

Maybe not as exciting as reality TV.

2010-02-14T13:21:00.012+09:00

Haven’t done much with my weekends lately, in part in prep for the Great Traveling/Busyness Adventure that will be late-February to April. For now, I’m getting my thrills in small, cost-effective doses. Like walking around at dusk, checking out the first plum blossoms of the season:As of Friday, I’ve finished teaching at two of my three schools. As a little part of my farewell, I attended a basketball tournament two Sundays ago, where teams from these two schools were playing. When the Okabe coach saw me arrive, he made me come sit on the bench and everything.

While I went mostly out of obligation, it really was fun, but definitely not because my schools were dominating. I was quick to discover this was an exhibition tournament, where junior high school teams faced high school teams for 15-minute games. To make it a bit more ridiculous, most of the ninth graders from the junior high teams were off taking practice high school placement exams. “Today is a learning experience,” chuckled the coach. Despite shouting my best encouragements, I couldn’t help but laugh whenever a 5'9"-ish high schooler stood with the ball, looking to pass, whilst a 4' seventh grader on defense would jump and jump, swatting for the ball far out of reach. Even in 15 minutes, scores were typically 50-0…though in one game, Okabe scored 6 whole points! An early layup and one successful free throw, plus the biggest highlight of the day: the tiniest seventh-grader sunk a 3-pointer and the crowd went insane. Totally worth a trip to Fujieda on a non-work day.The following Sunday, Jaime and I popped over to Yui, a tiny fishing village known for its haul of sakura ebi—little pink shrimp (which, much to my dismay, work themselves into many snack foods here in Japan). We were there, however, to visit the Tokaido Hiroshige Art Museum, a little place displaying the woodcuts of Ando Hiroshige. In the early 1800’s, Hiroshige saw Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji by Hokusai, and decided to dedicate himself to ukiyoe—woodcut art. As part of a shogun delegation, he carefully observed the Tokaido Road, the historic route between Tokyo (then called Edo, the shogun capital of Japan) and Kyoto (the then-Imperial capital), and soon after produced the collection, Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido.

The museum had an informational section on the earliest woodcuts (that's where I saw the intriguing/unfortunate piece below) and the process of creating woodcuts: carving a separate wood block for each color used in the work, inking the blocks, and painstakingly layering them one after another to form the finished piece.
The Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido were on display, and it was especially cool to see Hiroshige’s representations of places that I have visited. Presently, the Tokaido Shinkansen travels a straight route from Tokyo and Kyoto (and beyond), and the JR Tokaido Line is the local train line I take to work. However, Hiroshige’s woodcuts follow the route of the historic road (the red line on the map below), which passes through some larger cities, but also through now-rural villages, such as tiny Mariko and Okabe.Photos were not allowed in the museum, but you can see little pics of the works if you scroll down here.Weekend events perhaps not quite as exciting as when my friend Jackson downloads a bunch of Jersey Shore and Keeping Up with the Kardashians episodes and brings them over along with mimosa supplies…still decent, though. Next weekend I’ll be skiing in Nagano.

Happy Oshogatsu, and ganbatte.

2010-02-06T19:58:00.011+09:00

"In New York City, there is a huge ball with lights, high up in the air. It drops slowly to the ground in front of many, many people..."

I wore a shiny, self-fashioned crown. Together, we did a countdown from 10, then I threw confetti at an unsuspecting student and played Auld Lang Syne on melodica. Ridiculousness is riveting.

"What did you do for New Year?" I asked my classes. Then came to find that Japanese New Year (Oshogatsu) is like Christmas in the U.S., and New Year in the U.S. is like Japanese Christmas.Sure, 5 tons of twinkle lights and an army of robotic, dancing Santa Clauses occupy Shizuoka each December, but that's what the holiday means here. You look for a date if you don't have one, and you go out to a Christmas Party. Japanese New Year, however, is a time for staying home with family, eating traditional holiday foods, sending cards to loved ones, giving presents (of money) to the children, and visiting a temple or shrine.

"We went to shrine to pray for good exams," said most of the 9th graders.

Here, education is compulsory only through junior high school. Nevertheless, most of the 9th graders at my schools are hoping to attend high school (nationwide, over 90% do go on to high school), so these 14- and 15-year-olds are currently cramming for entrance exams; all sports and club activities have been suspended for the 9th graders so they can devote themselves entirely to studying.

They leaf through the glossy pamphlets for various high schools in the area—some trying to decide whether to aim for somewhere near home or swing an hour-long commute, whether to hope to attend a school with a strong sports team or a school that is geared for a particular field of study. For others, there is nothing much to decide—they’ll just go wherever they get in.The 9th grade teachers seem frazzled, counseling all their homeroom students through this next step, but most of the students, even though they're clearly sleep-deprived, seem to be doing all right with the process.

Makes me wonder how I would have done with such a decision as a 9th grader. Thinking back to those worthless career inventories we took (via Apple IIe, perhaps) in early high school, when asked, "How many years of college would you like to attend?" I would select "2 years or less"...and I think no matter how many of those tests I took, the result would always be Paralegal.

To the students who I find hunched over their homework during recess, I can only say ganbatte (good luck). I hope these students aren't being put on specific tracks too early, but it is difficult to say, and there's a good chance my American mind is making a bigger deal of this than it is. I just want Ryo, who is not applying to high schools, but is going to learn how to grow tea from his grandfather, to be happy and find his passion. And I hope that Soichiro doesn’t burn himself out over the next three years at his selective high school for science performance, and figures out for himself whether he wants to go on to the University of Tokyo, not just because his teacher thinks he should.

Girls' Night, Indeed.

2010-01-30T15:42:00.015+09:00

This is the hellion in a rare state of calm.

Jaime and I went to Baird Brewery last Friday, and spent a good part of the evening helping entertain/being entertained by a 4-year-old girl whose parents may have slipped her a few drinks. She was nuts. Her thing: kicking things. Sometimes people. And running in a loop around the room; once she smacked into the brick wall, once she darted behind the bar.

She took a likin' to us...
And to my super fun little green camera:Kudos, little girl, for these stellar shots of strangers:But soon enough it was the hellion's bedtime, and we had to catch the last train back to Shizuoka. Cute as she was, I'm glad that on a regular basis, 7th grade's as low as I go...

I missed badminton practice for this?

2010-01-30T11:02:00.008+09:00

Wednesday afternoon, I made the nearly 2-hour walk-bus-train trek from my school to Hamamatsu to attend the second teachers' meeting of the school year for the company through which I am contracted. These meetings are intended as supportive fora for swapping stories, lesson plan ideas, and general work tips; sounds harmless, right? In actuality, they are a completely maddening waste of time. We are grilled to share any issues we've had at our schools, but really, many of us just haven't had issues. And when no one has any real issues, we discuss mundane hypothetical issues and their commonsensical solutions.

Sure, there are a couple people—those people, you know—who show up bursting with anecdotes and self-proclaimed brilliant activities to share: "So this card game I made up, kids of all ages love it. Okay, so dragons are worth 7 points, lions are 5 points, tigers are 3 points, and monkeys are 0 points, but there’s this one situation where a monkey can beat a dragon, and the students just freak out! (And I will now explain this situation, along with the rest of the rules, so poorly, so that even you as native English speakers are thoroughly confused.) Hey, I brought the cards, so do you guys just wanna play it right now?!"

Oh yes, please. Yes, I do. And I expect you to give me a sticker if I win.

The majority of us do our best to feign enthusiasm. I know I'm completely transparent. I was missing practice for the teachers' badminton club, dammit! The most joyous part of this day was getting to stop at Freshness Burger after the meeting, for the Best Onion Rings in Japan, Possibly Anywhere (it's a chain, though the nearest location I know of is in Hamamatsu).
My aggression subsides with every hot, greasy, ketchuppy bite.

Califotos II

2010-01-24T12:46:00.028+09:00

Monday: How lucky was I to be sipping a Blue Bottle latte, perusing the drool-inducing local produce, artisanal cheese, bread, and various other food shops of the Ferry Terminal, whilst everyone else was just starting their workweek? Fine weather for a ferry, but this trip, I wouldn’t make it to the East Bay. I needed me some Chinatown. Through the financial district to Chinese bazaar shops, a kite shop...and besides the alleyway fire I witnessed, so many amazing smells.Then to City Lights (where like a good tourist I bought beat: Ferlinghetti’s Coney Island of the Mind) and the Vesuvio, ohh yeah. The afternoon: Lombard Street’s curves, a quick stop at Fisherman’s Wharf and Ghirardelli Square, then on to Chrissy Field for a hazy sunset, and the Palace of Fine Arts after dark.Tuesday: First Tuesday of the month means free admission at city museums! Down to the MoMA (between special exhibitions and disappointing overall…yes, the people who told me not to go here were right), then up to the Legion of Honor (European permanent collection, two special exhibitions: Cartier jewelry and forensic reconstruction of mummies, an organ recital in the atrium, and a phenomenal view outside).
Now, if only I could get a drink at the Toronado before every flight I take. Eerily empty plane from ORD to MSN...I shudder to think of my carbon footprint.Perhaps it would be a good transition for me to live in a city with a Japantown, plus a phenomenal public transportation system, when I return to the U.S.?

Califotos I

2010-01-23T17:15:00.027+09:00

My original thought was to take an extended layover in San Francisco, either arriving from or returning to Japan, but the timing looked less than ideal to me as well as the people potentially putting me up. When I have a destination in my head, though…January 1-5, in the middle of my trip to the U.S., I got to explore San Fran, stay with a great old pal and his two fine housemates, and enjoy a few springlike days outside snowy ‘sconsin.

Friday night: three boys and a dog picked me up from the airport, in a Zipcar!

Saturday: Walking, walking, quick train ride, walking, walking. Alamo Square Park to Buena Vista Park...
Through the Castro and down Clarion Alley...Into the Mission (with a notable stop at the pirate supply store), then on to City Hall... Through Japantown (of course there would be middle school girls dancing to anime songs in the main square)...Past the Fillmore, and back to Baker Street for Little Star Pizza, rivaling even Uno’s Pizzeria of Platteville. And there may or may not have been a visit to a tiki bar later this evening…

Sunday: Brett and I acquaint ourselves with Golden Gate Park. An arboretum, golf course, disc golf course, rent-a-bikes, rent-a-boats (although Japan wins hands-down on the cute, natch) model yachts, a bison paddock, a Dutch windmill, and the giant cheese grater that is the deYoung Museum. The finale, the stretch of beautiful beach where I would have flown a kite, were kite frame dowels allowed in carry-on luggage.Thanks for letting me stay! Part 2 post tomorrow.

This baby woke me up on Sunday morning.

2010-01-20T18:00:00.003+09:00

Good thing he's so cute. Okay...actually, he was not physically present. His mom, Yuna, texted this picture to show us that Seigoh is already into photography (like mother, like son), and that he's enjoying the hat I knitted for him.

Seigoh was born in October, and Davin, Jackson, and I went to visit...well, first we went to the wrong hospital, to the very wrong floor, where there were all sorts of wheezing, coughing people with festering wounds...but we eventually found the correct hospital/floor/room—far more newborn-friendly—and Yuna looked gorgeous as usual, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened (I am pretty she just snapped her fingers a la Mary Poppins, and Seigoh appeared). Anyway, I can't believe this adorable guy is already over three months old.

Hey, Internet. Happy 2010.

2010-01-19T22:00:00.009+09:00

I was able to return to Dairyland for about 3 ½ weeks, to do it up right for the holidays. My awesome parents picked me up at the Madison airport, and that night at 4 a.m. when I couldn’t sleep and I opened up the fridge to find cottage cheese, Swiss cheese spread, brick Colby, etc....well, all was right with the world. In the following days there were cookies, a gorgeous tree, fires in the fireplace…and on Christmas Eve we drove around do-gooding post-blizzard: shoveling sidewalks, pushing a car.

It was great to tromp around in the snow (even better as the L.L. Bean-type rubber-toed boots I dug out of my parents’ laundry room closet are apparently in style this season). Sure, I saw a little white in Nagano, but Midwestern snow…surely e. e. cummings was referring to Wisconsin’s variety when he wrote, “The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.” Indeed, I was shut in for a few days of my visit, too afraid to try driving anywhere, but I did get to ‘shoe in the New Year in Eau Claire (photo of me below—and pun—stolen from my friend Drew), visit my friend Jesse’s new dollhouse in Dubuque, and strike it lucky enough to have none of my flights delayed or cancelled, both from Japan to Wisconsin and back, and during the brief trip to California that I took mid-vacation.I’ve been back in Shizuoka, back to work, for a week now, and aside from a minor puncture wound, 4 days of harassment from a dump truck driver, and a trick executed by my roommate to get me to bite into a bar of green tea soap, everything’s pretty much back to normal. While I didn’t return from vacation with a suntan, silk scarves, scented soaps, or a wind chime made of coconut shells, I do have Butterfingers and that awfully delicious Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Life is lovely.

San Fran phots soon.

A list and a loop.

2009-12-14T19:16:00.048+09:00

I love sleeping in as much as the next person. Probably more. But after a few weekend days of dragging myself out of bed at noon, eating leftovers, and sitting in front of the computer until late afternoon, I start to feel pretty worthless for shirking my Japan time.

Kamakura, the capital of Japan from 1185-1333, now a smallish city of 170,000, is situated on the Shizuoka side of Tokyo and packed with notable cultural sites, many linked by wooded hiking trails. After making a list of the sights I wanted to visit, I plotted my course: an 8-kilometer loop around the city with a quick streetcar ride to finish the day.

From the 6:45 Sunday train, the glowing view of Mt. Fuji prevented any napping. At Odawara I bid the bullet train goodbye, and took the local line into Kamakura, the town still sleepy at 9 a.m.—the fall colors were in full swing and the sky was clear and bright.My first stop was Hachimangu, a colorful Shinto shrine with a sprawl somewhat like Kyoto’s Kiyomizu-dera.Kamakura is home to five important Zen temples and my next stop was the foremost—Kencho-ji—still active as the oldest Zen monastery in Japan. The massive junipers are said to have been planted over 700 years ago by Kencho-ji’s founders.By the time I continued my loop to Engaku-ji, many more visitors had come out to enjoy the perfect weather. The grounds of this second-most-important Zen temple were crowded with bright yellow ginkgo trees, fiery red Japanese maples, and lots of folks doing this:...And the trees were steaming!Through a bamboo grove and up the stairs was a nice view of Fuji (looking back toward Shizuoka).From Engaku-ji I moved on to the much quieter Tokei-ji, a temple that historically served as a women’s shelter. If a married woman came to this temple, after three years of service she would be granted a divorce. Now, the buildings are surrounded by cypress forest and the gravestones of women who once called this place home.After grabbing a bite and another dose of coffee, I entered Jochi-ji and the start of the 3.5-km hiking course that would wind past several shrines and end at the second-largest Buddha in Japan. I happily found this hiking course a real hike—tree roots, loose rocks, and muddy dips aplenty on this ridgetop trail through the forest.A slight detour took me past the small shrine, Kuzuharagaoka; into Genjiyama-koen, a sidewalk-riddled landscape park; then into Zeniarai-benten, a shrine entered through a tunnel, with a cave wherein people wash their money with the hope of this bringing riches.Through another tunnel—this one of torii gates—was Sasuke-jinja, then signs put me back on track to the Buddha.Japan’s largest Buddha is on display in Nara, near Kyoto, but the second-largest was impressive enough for me. On its pedestal, the bronze Kamakura Daibutsu is 13.4 meters tall and weighs about 121 tons. It used to be indoors, but the first hall built around it blew away in the 1300’s, then the next was washed away by a tsunami in 1495.If you’re willing to wait in line, you can even climb up inside and take a look out the back windows.And finally, the last stop on my list…Hase-dera, a temple complex with an interesting legend. Straight from the Hase-dera guidebook: "In 721 AD the pious monk Tokudo Shonin discovered a large camphor tree in the mountain forests near the village of Hase in the Nara region. He realized the trunk of the tree was so large that it provided enough material for carving two statues of the eleven-headed Kannon. The statue he commissioned to be carved from the lower part of the trunk was ennshrined in Hase-dera temple near Nara; the statue from the upper half (actually the larger of the two) was thrown into the sea near present-day Osaka with a prayer that it would reappear to save the people. Fifteen years later in 736 on the night of June 18, it washed ashore at Hagai Beach on the Miura Peninsula not far from Kamakura, sending out rays of light as it did. The statue was then brought to Kamakura and a temple was constructed to honor it."The Hase Kannon—Kannon being the Buddhist goddess of mercy—is 9 meters tall, was covered with gold leaf in the 1300’s, and indeed has eleven heads in addition to its main face. Heads positioned in all directions are intended to symbolize the Kannon’s willingness to hear the prayers and wishes of diverse people (no photos allowed in the hall).Thousands of little Jizo statues line the way to a smaller shrine on the Hase-dera grounds. The toys piled at the front of this shrine add sobering evidence to the fact that Jizo is the bodhisattva of departed children; the statues and toys have been placed here to comfort the souls of unborn children, lost to miscarriage, abortion, and so on.After taking a stroll around the koi-stocked ponds and taking in the view of Kamakura and the Pacific’s Sugami Bay, I took an old-school streetcar from Hase to Kamakura’s central station, got some food and bought some special edition Shizuoka Wasabi Kit Kats, then retraced my route home.

A flawless daytrip in the perfect time of year.

My Very Japanese Japanese Alps Adventure, Continued

2009-12-12T19:44:00.004+09:00

Internet, I’ve got to get these photos posted before I pack my bags and fly home for the holidays.

On Monday morning at 6:45, I awoke to “Kireeeeee!” (which means beautiful) from Eiko and Kaori looking (oh no, not at me sleeping like an angel under my ruffly rose-print duvet) out the window right next to my bed. I put in my contacts and looked out to see a long cloud settled in the valley. Before breakfast we took a walk around the little pension village: birch trees, white peaks, and sunshine.After a Suwa Lake overlook/coffee stop (southwest of Nagano City), we drove through ravines and mountain tunnels to the village of Narai-juku, a "Nationally-designated Important Preservation District of Historic Buildings”—such nomenclature I can't make up. Narai-juku was an important post town, situated midway between Kyoto and Edo (now called Tokyo) on the Nakasendo Road, and the buildings on the main street, once used to house and feed travelers crossing the nearby mountain pass, have remained very much the same since that period. The village is also famous for laquerware, and for crafting the Nagano 1998 Olympic Games medals.Mid-morning snack: soba-cha and a miso-walnut stuffed bun.We next drove past Mt. Ontake, then Eiko's guidebook directed us to a roadside stop where we had an impromptu little picnic beneath the train tracks, next to some huge scramblin' rocks and a green-blue bend of stream. Back in the car, we continued to wind through mountain passes into the afternoon, still in Nagano-ken, eventually arriving at historic destination #2. Wish I could recall the name of this village; its winding stone walkways were lined with restaurants and shops, leading up a hillside overlooking a stretch of colorful valley.Eiko demanded I pose with all the festive folks we encountered...Despite the coolish temps, there was still much farming going on in the area: apple orchards, pear trees, fields of lettuce and cabbage…plus these giant Japanese radishes and mega-mushrooms.Our set lunch: I ate everything but the fish, which Eiko and Kaori gave me crap for as they bit off and swallowed the heads of their fish. I appreciate the nothing-wasted view, but there are some things I just can’t…The sunset intensified and I began to wonder about our time frame for getting back to Shizuoka. Not that I wasn't having fun; the ladies were highly entertaining and we were seeing all sorts of sights I'd never have found on my own. After grabbing more unnecessary snacks for the final stretch, we drove out of the hills and onto the expressway. I was drifting in and out of sleep in the backseat during the 3-hour drive through Toyoda, Nagoya, Hamamatsu, and back to Shizuoka. My dictionary and I were completely exhausted by the time Kaori pulled into my driveway at Otowa-cho, where I thanked them a zillion times and we planned to get together for dinner sometime soon.

My Very Japanese Japanese Alps Adventure

2009-12-12T12:13:00.056+09:00

When I recently left Okabe, not scheduled to return until late January, a couple teachers—not English teachers—asked for my phone number, to meet up in the meantime. Then one of them actually called. And after a thoroughly confusing conversation, I agreed to go on a "fall colors" weekend trip with the woman and her friend. All I could gather was that we would drive through Shizuoka-ken and Yamanashi-ken (in the direction of Mt. Fuji) and spend the night in a pension and the whole thing would cost me about $150 and they would pick me up at the nearest train station at 8:30 on Sunday morning and return me on Monday night (a National Holiday). I was stressed in the days leading up to this event.

Eiko and her friend Kaori were really awake when they came to pick me up. After making our introductions—I learned that Kaori does something involving sports and radio—we were off. Minutes into the trip, Eiko offered us each a cup of milk tea from her giant Thermos, and she didn’t stop feeding us all weekend. It was like being on a car trip with my Grandma Ingersoll when I was younger, when she’d always have root beer barrels, Werther’s Originals, and a full Ziploc bag of popcorn in her purse. Oh, and I learned that Sunday, we’d be touring Shizuoka-ken and Yamanashi-ken, but we were heading up to Nagano-ken(!) to spend the night, then seeing the Nagano area and Aichi-ken on Monday.
Winding through the colorful hills and into Yamanashi-ken, we stopped at a deluxe wayside/produce stand, then again for lunch at a soba restaurant where we watched a man make the thin buckwheat noodles by hand. The spring water used to cook the noodles makes this soba famously delicious, said Eiko's guidebook, as well as a plaque outside the door.After a brief hike in a park adjacent to the restaurant, we moved along northward; Eiko’s guidebook said we could take a gondola ride in the foothills of the newly-snowy Japanese Alps.Eleven peaks covered in clouds…but there was a bit of snow on the ground! Pretty exciting for Shizuokans who very, very rarely see snow fall in their city. The ropeway was closed—open in winter for skiers, and in summer for hikers to view the wildflower-covered hills, but not in between—so we visited a Suwa Lake overlook, then drove down into town to check out the lakeside and a well-known miso shop.I’d been doing all right responding when spoken to and my brain had yet to melt, so over our coffee and miso cake I decided to ask Eiko and Kaori how they became friends. This prompted one of the best conversations ever. Here is a rough translation, although you have to imagine them speaking really slowly and repeating things several times (the whole trip they spoke in third person because pronouns confuse me):
Me: So…when did you and Kaori meet?
(Laughter…not at my Japanese, I don’t think, but at the question, like they wondered when I would ask.)
Eiko: Well…Kaori was my student during my first year as a teacher; she was a first-year student at Yaizu Junior High School.
Me: Ah, I see!
Eiko: I am 55 years old, and Kaori’s age…
Kaori: It’s a secret!
Eiko: But Kaori is like my little sister. I’m a single woman…
Kaori: And I’m single, too.
Eiko: So we hang out together and go on trips like this.
Kaori: Sometimes it’s nice to have fun with just the girls, you know?
Me: Oh yes, I understand.
Eiko: Lindsay, how old is your mother?
(I told her.)
Eiko: Well then, I am your Japanese mother! And Kaori is like, your older Japanese sister.
Me: I’m so lucky!And by the time we finished our cake, it was time to find the pension for dinner. The mansion was decked out in floral theme, far too intense, but the place had heated floors and Jacuzzi baths, and the pensioner served up a great dinner—especially the pumpkin soup with broccoli and crème fraiche, and the carrot sorbet with fruit and mint. The pensioner spoke English, so I scrawled my praises in the guestbook....everyone else was taking photos of their food, and I didn't want them to think I was some snobby, unimpressed American, thus not taking photos of my food...We played rock-paper-scissors for bed assignments, watched the news, and road trip day one was complete.

This is what happens...

2009-12-06T21:02:00.008+09:00

...when you fall asleep after Thanksgiving Dinner, whilst everyone else enjoys mass quantities of wine.

Ceremony: I should give my students more credit.

2009-12-05T17:34:00.025+09:00

A recent project for the eighth-grade Okabe students was to pick a “famous” place in the area (the tiny, wooded, sparsely-populated area) and describe it to me.

Never has there been a reason for me to bus all the way to Okabe on a non-school day, except for the Saturday of the sports festival, which I would have been shunned for not attending. But the students gave some surprisingly convincing appeals for me to visit local hotspots such as:
- A hiking course that includes an old railroad tunnel people can explore with flashlights
- A place where fireworks are assembled and people can view test launches
- A park with a “field of huge beautiful stones” (I may have to see it to completely understand)
- A teahouse upstream on the Asahina River—with tea ceremonies for the Gyokuro green tea grown all over the hills of the area.

In his collection Earth House Hold, Gary Snyder details his experience living in Kyoto’s Shokoku Temple, practicing zazen, a form of Zen Buddhist meditation. In a letter sent from Shokoku-ji, Snyder mentions to his friend Philip Whalen: “I study tea ceremony with the old lady who lives upstairs here once in a while now but I haven’t got to pick up a teabowl yet, I’m still practicing unfolding a purple napkin.”

Snyder’s amusing confrontation with the exactness of tea ceremony, along with my students’ intriguing descriptions of their local teahouse (“The green tea is very bitter and delicious,” “please enjoy eating the Gyokuro tea,” “you can touch the fish in the pond,” etc.—were these mere errors in word choice?)…yes, this was enough to warrant two busses and the 500 yen entrance fee to Gyokuro-no-Sato, quiet on an overcast Saturday afternoon.
I’d heard the implements—bowls, utensils—are cleaned and the tea is prepared directly in front of the participants at a tea ceremony, but at this place, all ritualistic cleaning, tea preparation, napkin-folding, etc. was done in a room adjacent to the tatami area where participants were seated. At Gyokuro-no-Sato, it seemed like much of the ceremoniousness was behind the scenes. (But this could also be my lack of knowledge on the subject.)Still, the kimono-clad ceremony host served the two tea choices with reverence. Matcha in a simple raku bowl: placed on the tatami with two hands, then rotated precisely so the bowl’s “front” faces the drinker; host exchanges bows with drinker. (Matcha is powdered green tea that has been whisked in hot water, creating the bubbly froth on top...and it was delicious, and a bit bitter.)Option two involved a bit more commitment. The Gyokuro tea arrived in a covered, thin-walled cup—this tea not powdered but whole leaf. The tea is sipped from the covered cup, the drinker adding additional water from the tall teapot if desired. So what is the short teapot for, and that little wooden fork? That part about eating the tea? Yeah, that was correct. Much to my chagrin, that teapot contained a mixture of soy sauce and vinegar, for pouring onto the used tea leaves before eating them (to promote good health). And as I am not one to knowingly, ahem affront Japanese tradition, I tried it.And it tasted something akin to soggy, salty grass clippings, I'd guess. I desperately wanted to floss.At least the last item on the tray was a cute little treat—rice paste, I believe, with a sweet red bean paste filling. The design of the confection is changed to correspond with the season; everything in the teahouse, in fact, shifts, from the flower arrangements to the calligraphy scrolls on the walls, to possibly even the arrangement of the tatami mats. In a place so open and connected to its lush surroundings, I can appreciate the importance of that.To catch the bus back, to the next bus back to town, 'twas a quick sayonara to the monstrous koi (yes, they were quite forward and we did see some people feeding and touching them)...then between busses, a brief walk in the sunset. Requisite cheesy photos and conclusion:I still feel like I could get out into the country more often; there are spans when I can go several weeks without walking on grass. It is amazing, such ruralness available only an hour's train ride from the neon center of Tokyo, and I have a love for both extremes.

Happy Science Strikes Again

2009-11-17T21:10:00.006+09:00

I enjoy living in a secular society. The countless Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines I have visited, I have appreciated for their aesthetic beauty and architectural intricacies, and observed for their secluded silence or holiday festiveness. Yes, of course religion (and a long history thereof) is present here. But while the majority of Japanese people self-identify as Buddhist, I have heard that for the majority of this majority, religion is not practiced actively. People attend funerals. They take part in holiday customs derived from religious beliefs. But much of this is solely for tradition's sake, not due to personal beliefs. I've read that if anything, Japanese society could be described more superstitious than religious. And I suppose that if Japan were truly a significantly Buddhist country, vegetarian food would be easier to find. The Rebirth of Buddha. Posters and pamphleteers littered the sidewalks, advertising this film, which was released on Oct. 17. Once again surfaces the Happy Science organization, to which I became acquainted during a recent Shizuoka-ken election.

The animated movie is based on a book by Ryuho Okawa, the founder/leader/god figure of the Happy Science religion, centered here in Japan, but with a fringe following worldwide (Happy Science has offices in Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York City).

Folks more familiar with the literature of this new religion than myself have summarized its founder as such: Ryuho Okawa quit his business career in 1981 when he achieved enlightenment and gained the ability to channel the spirits of figures ranging from Buddha and Jesus to Thomas Edison and Sakichi Toyoda (founder of Toyota). Okawa’s channelings have been documented in over 100 books, ranging 200-300 pages each. His (or his channeled spirits’?) predictions include Martin Luther and Nichiren being reincarnated, and the U.S. sinking into the ocean and being replaced by Atlantis (don’t worry…not until the 25th century). Okawa can channel Greek gods, too. And apparently when channeled, the gods show quite an interest in modern Japanese economic policies. Hey now, Happy Science just wants to make the world a better place.
I am curious, though not enough to warrant sitting through this movie, even with the coupon and candy that accompanied my pamphlet. In happier news, the Michael Jackson movie was released here at the same time as in the U.S. I saw it—highly entertaining, though it was also pretty freakin’ evident the man was nearing death—and of course all the middle-school boys are now singing “Beat It” and attempting to moonwalk. Still, I wait to see Where the Wild Things Are and Zombieland.

The End of the Line

2009-11-14T18:42:00.014+09:00

Tuesday, Nov. 3 was a national holiday (Culture Day), and with Daidogei still in town, a few of us were ready to flee the city to enjoy the fall colors and some open space. Our plans to go to Ikawa Lake were dashed when we found the bus schedule too sporadic, unable to guarantee we'd arrive back in Shizuoka that night. We felt like an adventure, but not to that extent; we instead jumped on bus 126 toward Umegashima. The area had hot springs...and that is all we knew.Time to stretch our legs on a sketchy suspension bridge, about halfway through our 1.5-2ish-hour bus ride.Above: Matt takes in the scene (and contemplates his chances of death or injury); below: Jaime, Brian (a Wisconsinite!), and Jackson.After catching our second bus, which wound its way up the one-lane road bordered by steep rising hills, gorges, and the occasional waterfall, we were finally dropped off at the very end of the bus line in Umegashima. The chilly air was a shock, but we were up high enough in the hills to see some fine reds and yellows (inappropriately captured since it was so damn cold outside).We first found ourselves some steaming-hot noodles, then spent two hours soaking in the hot-spring baths...perfectly relaxing.The onsen was closing for the night, and despite our concerns as we stood at the stop in the dark, a bus actually did come through to take us all the way back to Shizuoka. November may be my favorite month thus far...I'll get back to you on that.

Harvest

2009-11-14T17:54:00.020+09:00

When I came back from summer vacation, the rice fields had grown thick and tall. In October, the stalks bowed with rice and turned from leafy green to blazing chartreuse. The color jumped from the landscape when hit by the afternoon sun. North and south views from Osu JHS:In late October, the fields were cut and the straw was laid out to dry, then hauled away...to be made into tatami mats, among other things, I suppose.I assumed this was the beginning of a dead season. The nights and mornings have gotten cold. But immediately after the rice was cleared, the fields were tilled and replanted with cabbage, sweet potatoes, and more. And even the kids at school just planted pansies in the courtyard. I have obviously underestimated plants' tolerance to Shizuoka's fall temps.I have also learned that fall means mikan—Japanese oranges. It’s peak season for this fruit, which is a unique variety, though similar to clementines or mandarin oranges. And all over town, persimmons grow in leafless trees. Sweetness. So, I have been eating mikan every day, and enjoying cheap cabbage (good for Thai peanut salads); yesterday I even made a persimmon galette—yeah, pie plates don't fit in the microwave oven...

Clown town.

2009-11-09T18:51:00.020+09:00

Tokyo was amazing. AMAZING. Not sure I appropriately conveyed that when posting photos, its afterglow having faded, leaving me in a funk. Another mood-dampener: in the midst of my carefully planned, highly captivating Halloween lessons, many students—entire homerooms, in fact—were home with influenza, and we were all required to wear masks of the surgical, not scary, variety.Much to my surprise, however, I was able to escape two weeks at germ school sans swine…and although Halloween is not celebrated here in Japan, that weekend brought Daidogei, the International Street Performance World Cup, to Shizuoka. Free from any terrifying childhood experiences with clowns, I was happily entertained by my town newly overrun by buskers.I forgot my viewing ladder...but got to enjoy tasty food on a stick (choco-pineapple).And the rain scared off only those weak-kneed, undedicated performers who probably have day jobs back home. The exhibition continued for four days, into the work week; only then did the clowniness catch me off guard a bit, while going about my daily activities…Performers, from top: a wire-walking and hula-hooping couple from Italy, musclemen from Australia, James-san and his lasso from Japan, dueling hairstylists from Australia, and a slow-motion tennis-playing duo from Japan.

P.S. The grand champion of the weekend was a contortionist from Mexico who shot a bow-and-arrow with her feet.

Tokyo Three

2009-10-29T21:13:00.019+09:00

Monday in Tokyo took us to dizzying tourist heights, but not literally this time. Green, expansive Ueno Park was Tokyo’s first public park and is home to the Tokyo National Museum, the National Museum of Western Art, the National Science Museum, the Ueno Royal Museum, the Shitamachi Folklife Museum, Ueno Zoo, Shinobazu Pond, two temples…plus numerous statues, fountains, cafes, and wooded walkways. (And a large portion of Tokyo’s homeless population.)Temple sketchin'...Police box or Transformer?I’d had my swan boat fix in Fujieda, so we continued on through a fun little installation…

Then, even when presented with multiple museum options in Ueno, we eventually decided to return to Tokyo’s central station and visit the Museum of Modern Art, located near the Imperial Palace. The museum was between special exhibitions, but the permanent collection was all right. The complex was also home to the National Film Center, but we didn't get to view anything before the place closed for the day.The real reason Davin voted for this museum, I believe, was because it brought us back to the Palace area, an easy walk north from which is the Omotesando Sporting Goods District—it’s even denoted on maps—a dense cluster of multi-level megastores selling equipment for every endeavor imaginable. My roommate is running the Tokyo Marathon in February, you see, so he was all for picking up a few needed items.We were coaxed by coupons into a tiny Indian restaurant for curry, garlic naan, and mango lassis—a fine finale. Shizuoka seemed especially small that night, as we walked home in the quiet dark.

Tokyo Two

2009-10-27T22:20:00.023+09:00

Breakfast to go at the World’s Busiest Train Station: Shinjuku. But it was Sunday after all –not so crowded. And it looks like every other station in Japan, of course.Dwarfed in this district of salarymen-stocked skyscrapers, government buildings, and business hotels, we located what should have been the Pentax Forum, a showroom of the sweetest new camera equipment to play around with, open Sundays. The place was now, however, a Canon conference center, and closed. We moved along to Harajuku, which guaranteed some Sunday liveliness. Harajuku Station’s exit was packed with a crowd similar to Shibuya’s night scene. Narrow alleys buzzed with cafes and crepe stands, and clothing-store racks with uber-flashy garments and accessories spilled out onto the streets. Shop clerks with electric-blue hair and face paint backoned customers; off-the-clock costumed kids stood grouped as passers-by snapped pics.Juxtaposed with the cosplay kids was Meiji-jingu shrine, just a quick wooded walk from Harajuku’s shopping-mecca heart. No purchases made in Harajuku…museums were on the afternoon agenda and it was time to move along. In the Ebisu district, the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography offered three extensive exhibits: a general exhibit of Japanese photographers viewing foreign countries; Kitajima Keizo's photos of the 1980's in Tokyo, New York, Eastern Europe, and the U.S.S.R.; and Koichi Inakoshi's photos of China, Africa, and elsewhere, up until his recent death. Next door, there was brew to be sampled at the Yebisu Beer Museum.

After a breakfast pastry on the go, a lunch smoothie on the go, and afternoon samples of beer and crackers, we were due for an amazing dinner. A wood-fired pizza place in the vicinity = dream come true. Definitely amazing, in my book. And that fire-roasted tofu-walnut-gorgonzola ravioli!We were quite the tourists on this trip (yes, I took a photo of a train station). But it is hard to pass up a skyscraper skydeck, especially on a clear night, and even more so if the overlook features a contemporary art museum as well. The Mori Art Museum was on the 53rd floor of the Mori Tower—the building must have a massive freight elevator to transport oversized exhibition pieces—and the current show was by Chinese artist Ai Weiwei, with pieces ranging from photographs of Beijing Olympic Games construction projects to massive sculptures from tree trunks and bicycles to video installations involving prank phone calls. The 54th floor was the glass-walled skydeck, with a separate corridor displaying a fun photo exhibit.

And then there was roof access. It was freezing up there, but we could see two giant ferris wheels, fireworks, the hard-to-miss Tokyo Tower, and city lights twinkling to all horizons.

The Big...Persimmon.

2009-10-24T14:16:00.027+09:00

Living an hour outside of Tokyo by bullet train, I had made the trip from Shizuoka several times. But Narita and Haneda are not Tokyo. I wanted to see the city outside of its airports. With a general plan mapped and no school on Monday due to National Sports and Wellness Day, ‘twas finally time for a long weekend in the world’s most populated metropolis!

Walking out of Tokyo Station and straight into the gated gardens of the Imperial Palace, we acquainted ourselves quietly. But a walk south to the Ginza Shopping district (Tokyo’s answer to New York’s 5th Avenue) gave a clearer feel of the density and bustle, with a constant stream of people flowing through jumbotron-bedecked intersections and upscale boutiques: Prada, Tiffany, Gucci, Coach.
We perused Ginza’s Sony Building, displaying five floors of electronics set out for visitors to try, then made our winding way to the Tokyo Tower, the city’s taller (by 8.5m) yet tackier (painted red and white) version of the Eiffel Tower.After a muted sunset from the skydeck, we visited the second-floor Statistics Museum (a stop in honor of Corey James), which was a couple rooms displaying data on the tower and the country at large. Lots of graphs and such.Next, we located our hostel in the Asakusa district, near the Asahi beer headquarters (designed to look like a flame atop the building, the illuminated blob is more commonly known as “the golden turd”) and Senso-ji temple.In an underground, little-traveled walkway of the Asakusa subway station, we found a dirty, delicious Thai café, then left sleepy Asakusa for a prime-time visit to Shibuya.Groups of twenty- and thirty-somethings packed the broad cement skirt outside the subway station. Some carried instruments, most sported hair gel and skinny jeans. As the traffic lights of Shibuya Crossing changed from green to yellow to red and back to green, pedestrians piled up, a lake forming behind a dam, then proceeded in giant waves as the cars were halted in turn, in the giant confluence of crosswalks and multi-lane roadways crammed with taxis.This is where the city refuses to rest, with so much wilding to be had. But Tokyo’s subways do shut down overnight; we left Shibuya on the last cross-town train.

Shizuoka Public Television

2009-10-21T23:09:00.009+09:00

Daily at dusk, folks gather just a few blocks off the downtown shopping district for a little free entertainment courtesy of the local fountain. The show goes on for around 20 minutes; sit on the cement steps, relax, and enjoy watching waltzing waters lit up against the darkening sky.

Winefest, Fujiside

2009-10-17T15:07:00.018+09:00

Is eight hours of train travel worth six hours of free wine? One recent Saturday, to me and a few other folks from Shizuoka, it sounded so. We hopped a 7 a.m. train bound, with two transfers, for the northeast side of Mt. Fuji, to the Yamanashi region, where the majority of Japanese wine is produced.

"Katsunuma Grape Village" was the translated name of our stop; we were welcomed at the tiny station by some enthusiastic festival attendants who pointed the way to the shuttle bus bound for the grounds.Bordering the open field, a veritable lake from that morning’s rainstorm, around 40 tents were set up by vendors offering tastings. Another 30 or so stands were serving festival food such as fries, takoyaki, noodles, choco-bananas, and more. Spending 500 Yen ($5) on a commemorative glass allowed visitors to wander from booth to booth from noon until 6, requesting aka (red) or shiroy (white)…and when it was time to find a dry spot to sit and relax, there was a central tent with wine by the barrel—step right up and fill your glass. Grape juice for the kiddies, too.

Davin entered a grape-eating contest...And people lined up for free samples from the grape ladies.Free-flowing wine plus a slick muddy field presented a recipe for disaster—or something Woodstock-esque, perhaps—but the event remained relatively low-key. There were plenty of folks sloshing around sans shoes, and a trashed group of foreigners (from the U.S.? ‘Fraid so) creating a mini-scene by pig-piling onto a tarp and generally being obnoxious, but to balance the mood, an adjacent group of locals had spread out a full, fancy picnic complete with fondue.We watched a variety of acts take the entertainment stage, including a steel-drumming group, a teenage rock band, middle-aged guys playing surfer tunes, and a synchronized dance troupe.And when the sky darkened, we retraced our route home, arriving back in Shizuoka at 11:59—nearly the last train of the night :)

The day was gorgeous. It took three washes to resuscitate my filthy shoes, but the taste, the cloud-shrouded Fuji foothills, the rest areas shaded by grape-covered canopies…sure, I’d go back for that.

Pirates and Ice Cream

2009-10-15T21:44:00.013+09:00

I have near-daily tinges of regret that for how close I live to the ocean, I don’t see it often enough. Sure, I glimpse the water from the train to and from school…if I’m sitting in an east-facing seat. But I rarely get my feet wet.

On a recent beach kick (it was still in the 80’s here a few weeks ago), I visited two nearby spots—Mochimune and Miho—each with their own perks.I’d previously visited Mochimune, but hadn’t taken the stroll north of the main beach to The Playground. Picnic lunch in tow, Davin, Jackson, and I found ourselves at the most spectacular play area I’d ever seen: showy, multifaceted, dangerous. We sat on a grassy hill and watched the hordes of little pirate wannabes clamber around the ship, swing back and forth on ziplines, and build sandcastles mortared with water from the concrete wading pool and waterfall. Such an elaborate amusement in such a small town.On a late afternoon a week later, our destination by bus was Miho Beach, in the opposite direction—on a peninsula northeast of Shizuoka City. Less kid-friendly and more a spot to enjoy the whispering pines and take in an ocean sunset, Miho offers a few forested trails as well as a beach view of Mt. Fuji if the weather abides.The slightest outline of the mountain, center:And while Mochimune is BYO, Miho boasts a row of snack stands serving up soup, sweets, and oden (a disgusting regional specialty which basically amounts to soaking chunks of mixed meats and root vegetables in the same vat of liquid until every item is soggy and uniform in taste). The mango was a tasty choice, however, and the sunset, though filtered through the twisted pines lining the beach, mighty fine.

Sports Day, Okabe!

2009-10-07T22:04:00.010+09:00

I was soon to find out that a school's annual Sports Day is a pretty big deal. Or at least there's a lot of preparation involved.

I was teaching at Okabe Junior High during Sports Day season (September), and every P.E. class for several weeks beforehand was dedicated to practicing Sports Day events. The whole week before the big day—which was Saturday, September 12—classes were cancelled all afternoon and students were sent outside straight from lunch, to work on their teamwork skills and strategies for each competition. I spent my afternoons out there with them on the dirt field, clapping in rhythm and counting "1, 2, 1, 2!" to try and keep them upright during the three-legged race rehearsals. I also made a stellar marking post when teams were practicing jogging in formation and there weren't enough orange plastic cones to go around.On the 12th, the sky was dull and sprinkles fell throughout the morning. Nevertheless, opening ceremonies commenced with a full-school march onto the field, the flag raising, the National Anthem, and several speeches of encouragement from the school principal, the president of the PTA, and the leaders of each of the teams the student body was divided into: red, blue, and yellow.The competition commenced with a zillion different track events: sprints, distance running, and various relays. Hands down, the best part of this portion was that the music teacher had created a soundtrack for the races (lots of peppy marches and battle tunes—think "William Tell Overture"); the switch to the sound system was flipped on at every crack of the starting gun and faded out with every cross of the finish line. Along with the background music, some ridiculously cute students were giving race commentary along the way: So-and-so's in first! He/she sure is fast! Good luck, so-and-so who's falling behind!After relays came the team events, where homerooms competed against each other in the three-legged race (except an entire homeroom of about 30 students was tied together instead of just a pair of students...so many twisted ankles, scraped knees, and ripped track pants during practice for this), and the group jump rope.After lunch, spectating parents were incorporated into a couple events, including a game where teams had to try and sink as many bean bags as possible into a basket, raised high on a bamboo pole, in a given amount of time.I didn't quite understand the scoring system, but there was a nail-biting lead-up to the final score display (a drum roll and cymbal crash with the posting of each digit), and the red team came out on top. Made sense since their team had a whole extra homeroom (yeah, I was rooting for yellow)...And then it was time to go home and enjoy the weekend, including the following Monday off to make up for having to go to school on a Saturday. Nice.I was glad to be a smaller, laid-back school for this occasion, since I've heard Sports Day competitions at other schools can be ultra-serious: months of training, drilling, honing team cheers...and lots of tears from those who don't win on the big day. It might have been cool to see some of the more elaborate contests larger schools include, but I'm all for seeing everyone still smiling on the way home.

Miyajima and Back

2009-10-06T21:22:00.031+09:00

Only a 20-kilometer train ride then a short ferry hop away from Hiroshima lies Miyajima, a small island claiming “Third Best View in Japan” as well as another Guinness treasure: the World’s Largest Spatula. Sign us up.As our ferry approached the island, the dreary weather lent a mysterious air to the steep green mountain’s temple- and shrine-bedecked foothills. Miyajima, the summit of which is Mt. Misen, carries a long history of being worshipped as a divine island.The area near the ferry terminal is a bit less historically-oriented, however. We passed food and souvenir shop after shop, briefly dropping into Hello Kitty Miyajima before resuming our search for a certain oversized kitchen implement.I should note that this island is also home to a seemingly rampant population of tame deer. Everywhere we walked, they were hanging out, eating maps, snatching food from visitors. Despite the warning signs, this lady fed a deer and of course it then followed her everywhere, nudging for more—she was so mad. And deserving.We left the winding shop-lined streets and scavenging animals for the wooded hillside and the temple Senjo-kaku, constructed in 1587 as a space for the monthly chanting of Buddhist sutras in order to console the souls of the dead. It’s huge (over 1,300 square meters), and otherwise known as the Hall of 1,000 Tatami Mats. The neighboring five-storied pagoda was built in 1407.Large paintings inspired by the temple’s natural surroundings were displayed in the rafters of the hall, and visitors wandered, stopped to write prayers and wishes on small wooden spatulas, and sat safe from the sprinkles and gazed out over our next stop below—the Itsukushima Shrine.Built out over the water—at least when the tide is high—is a group of colorful buildings, first constructed in 593 and connected by a series of boardwalks. The famous Torii gate seems to float in the sea, except during low tide when the water recedes and visitors can walk around the sandy inlet and out to the gate.Loving the Third Best View...Lastly, we walked the decorated grounds of Daisho-in, a Shingon temple named for Kobo Daishi, who established the island as a holy site and lit a fire, said to have been burning for 1,200 years, on the mountain’s summit.Back in Hiroshima, we ate Thai and visited an Irish pub chockfull of Australian military personnel; we also ran into a group of three former English teachers in the process of cycling the length of Japan, from Hokkaido to Okinawa.Our final day in the city was spent between two museums: the Hiroshima Museum of Art (focusing mainly on French masters) and the Museum of Contemporary Art (showing a great photography exhibit by Tsuyoshi Ozawa, in which he met with women in different cities around the world and in each place, asked the woman for a local recipe, bought all the ingredients for the recipe, assembled them into a gun, photographed the woman wielding the vegetable weapon, then disassembled the gun and cooked and enjoyed the meal with the woman and company). We caught a good view of the city from a hill on the southeast side of town, then it was back to the station and back to Shizuoka.

Hiroshima for the Holidays

2009-10-04T15:43:00.022+09:00

September 21-23 brought the holidays Respect for the Aged Day and the Autumnal Equinox, with a Citizen’s Day Off sandwiched in between. Thanks to Japan for such observances. National holidays mean droves packing trains, hotels, and popular tourist areas; nevertheless, Davin and I found a hostel with space for Monday and Tuesday nights, so we were off to Hiroshima.

The 3-hour bullet train ride took us through Nagoya, Kyoto, Osaka, Kobe, and Okayama, to our destination. And from the central station, we began with the heavy stuff. The A-Bomb Dome, formerly the Hiroshima Prefectural Industrial Promotion Hall, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, preserved as one of the only structures in central Hiroshima that was not completely leveled by the bomb.The U.S. Military’s target was a T-shaped bridge in downtown Hiroshima, and at 8:15 a.m. on August 6, 1945, the atomic bomb detonated just 240m south of that landmark, and 580m above the city. The T-shaped bridge (on the left in the photo above) led onto a large island in the city center once packed with office buildings, shops, homes, a hospital, schools. The northern portion of this island is now Peace Memorial Park, a mix of museums, monuments, and welcoming green space. The Peace Memorial Museum displayed before-and-after photos of the city and of people’s injuries, as well as many artifacts attesting to the incomprehensible strength and heat of the blast: burned school uniforms, charred lunchboxes, and singed hair from junior high and high school students who had been mobilized to help tear down houses to create firebreaks in various parts of the city—from nearer the epicenter: melted glass, glass shards lodged in a cement wall, a bent iron gate, and a crinkled iron and cement bridge support. Other displays included U.S. Military memos and video footage from the plane that flew alongside the Enola Gay, scientific explanations of how atomic bombs are created, charts noting the countries currently possessing or developing nuclear weapons, and denouncements to those countries from Hiroshima’s mayor. Out in the atrium, a clock displays the number of days since the Hiroshima bombing and since the last nuclear explosion on Earth.The Peace Memorial Hall offered drawings and vivid personal narratives from children who survived the bomb—many having seen siblings and friends suffer and die, or having family members missing altogether. The fountain outside centerpieces 8:15, when watches stopped.
Beneath the arch is a vault containing the official register of the dead.

In another part of the park stands the Children’s Peace Memorial, not only for the children killed by the blast, but also for those who suffered long-term effects from the radiation—many developing leukemia and passing years later.

Millions of paper cranes are delivered to this monument each year as symbols of peace. This tradition began with a Japanese girl, Sadako Sasaki, who was exposed to the bomb's radiation at two years old, then diagnosed with leukemia at age 11. She set a goal for herself of folding 1,000 cranes, folding into each one her wish to get better. Sadako met her goal, but nevertheless passed away in 1955; her idea of folding cranes for hope and peace has since spread worldwide. And at the southern border of the park, a row of arches repeats “peace” in 49 languages.
Our afternoon was far lighter—a walk to Hiroshima Castle (known as “Carp Castle”), then a streetcar to our hostel, then a walk to Mazda Zoom-Zoom Stadium, where we hoped to see the night game between the Hiroshima Carp and Yakult Swallows.

After waiting in line to find the game was sold out, we sat of the grass outside the stadium and pitied ourselves for a bit before going to get Indian food and walk around the shopping arcades and monuments at night.

The next day, a visit to the gorgeous island of Miyajima...

Shizuoka rocks.

2009-10-01T19:02:00.008+09:00

I have only felt the tiniest, briefest shakes in my time here, but I've been through the drills. I've worn the dusty white helmets at school, and helped corral students outside to line up and count off by neighborhood.

And on August 11 at 5:07 a.m., a 6.4-magnitude earthquake hit Shizuoka, the quake's epicenter out in the ocean, about 20 kilometers southwest of town, and 26 kilometers below the Earth's surface. In Wisconsin, I was probably floating in a pool in the afternoon sun. Since returning, the only visible damage I've encountered is the collapsed castle wall at Sumpu Park in downtown Shizuoka. And that in our apartment, three pieces of china are no longer with us.
Some of the teachers at my schools complained of having to spend summer vacation fixing damage to their homes, but overall, only around 100 people were injured in the event; only one person was killed. I hear a lot about readyness training. I hear Japan's structures are built for seismic activity. I hope the predictions for a far more serious quake are overblown (though I doubt it; very scary stuff).The rest of Sumpu apparently survived unharmed: the castle and the teahouse surrounded by a manicured garden......which even includes tea bushes and a mini Mt. Fuji.I know earthquakes are serious business, especially in this prefecture, in this country, in this stretch of the Ring of Fire. But if there could possibly be room for a upside, it's that Davin was able to convince Jackson that Shizuoka City had announced an official death toll of koi from the moat at Sumpu after the wall collapsed.

30 Days

2009-09-30T22:55:00.010+09:00

I.
I spent my month-long summer vacation traveling around Wisconsin, between Platteville, Eau Claire, and Milwaukee…and summertime Wisconsin, totemo subarashi desu: miles of so much green and so few buildings, sunsets radiating over rolling horizons, rivers full and cold, evening air that leaves the slightest welcome prickle…sensory overload at times. 30 days packed with family and friends, river boat rides, Joynt and Badger Bar evenings, ridiculous amounts of food, car drives and golf drives, a wedding, and a funeral.

Not to mention a few job interviews: three jobs, good work, teaching and tutoring writing. But for how much I have missed home, working in Japan is a far better deal. Government-subsidized housing. National health care. And two of the three jobs I was offered in the U.S. provided no health insurance to start. I could purchase my own insurance covering major medical, leaving me to pay out-of-pocket should I ever want a check-up…you know, to possibly catch any issues from the start, not when they are full-blown. I am lucky to be a healthy person, but these fears still exist. And something is very wrong with a country that cannot provide basic (and preventative) health care to all its citizens. But I know we’ve already heard a lot about this lately.II.
Sometimes I can’t believe I’m getting paid for this. I work for a company that contracts with Boards of Education in cities and towns throughout Japan to provide their schools with foreign language teachers to assist the schools’ regular English teachers. The company has its ridiculous paperwork and such, but they are generally hands-off, and the only contact I have with my official supervisor is via monthly emails.

As for the work itself, it’s incredibly fun. We read stories, perform skits, sing Beatles songs, play Bingo, Battleship, Memory, Telephone, Jeopardy, Hot Potato, Scrabble, Pictionary, and countless other games. I team-teach lessons; there’s always a Japanese teacher of English alongside me to translate, or discipline the students if necessary. Homework is usually checked in class, and the Japanese teacher is in charge of holding exams, while I can spend my time kicking around a soccer ball at recess and answering students’ pressing questions such as, “Who is your favorite Disney character?”, “Do you like green tea?”, and “What shampoo do you use?” Fantastic. And that concludes the bragging portion of this post.
III.
My great-aunt was Aunt Jane to everyone. She kept track of small snippets and souvenirs so carefully…the objects in physical form and events in her mind. She recalled vivid details remarkably well: a letter of thanks my dad wrote as a kid, a job working in New York City as a dressmaker—creating model garments for the covers of pattern books, travels around the world with her husband, and then others—being charged with steering a catamaran and accidentally pulling onto a nude beach…

When I saw her in December, right before I left for Japan, I was afraid it would be the last. By June, she’d taken enough medication. She seemed ready to go, the last surviving sibling. She had often talked about getting all of us together: my family and the families of her siblings’ children. And in late August, we all finally gathered in her own house, to celebrate her.

I know the tiniest fraction of her life’s stories…but what pieces I have assemble an inspiration. Someone present and loving to her family. A best friend in a sister. A Columbia graduate who engaged and encouraged her high school students. A woman who married later in life than the status quo, then experienced loss. An international traveler. I don’t know her flaws…not a one. And while I don’t seek flawlessness, I would so hope to be seen one day as someone very much like her. Part of me would like to move back to my hometown…but I think she’d be glad I am still out on an adventure.
I had said my goodbyes to Shizuoka: my favorite sights, restaurants, pals. Had been leaning toward not coming back. So this is just to say, summer vacation was fantastic, but I am back in Japan until December. Time is flying.

Backlog

2009-09-14T13:48:00.025+09:00

July brought the muggiest weather I’ve ever experienced, I’m pretty sure. I slowed my walking pace to fruitlessly avoid being soaked upon arrival at school in the mornings; even the students were allowed to sport their gym shorts and t-shirts all day instead of their usual button-downs and long pants/skirts. Wearing nylons was like punishment, and heaven was an overcast, breezy day. Our plants died. July was rough. After sunset, naturally, temps slowly lowered to tolerable, and Shizuoka’s rooftop bars especially bustled with business. July was also prime summer festival time, and before I left for vacation, I was able to take in a few seasonal traditions, including a lantern float, a temple festival, and a fireworks display.At the Tomoe River in Shimizu, participants bought floating lanterns, personalized them with wishes and drawings, and sent them downstream through the city.Right behind my apartment is Kiyomizusan Park, which includes the small Kiyomizu Temple, and on an early July evening, vendors lined the streets leading up to the park, and people packed the area to visit the temple, eat food on a stick, and view the sporadic fireworks being launched over the nearby playground.A takoyaki stand: pieces of octopus cooked in balls of breading and sprinkled with fish flakes or other toppings...Many men and women wear traditional yukata (summer-weight kimono) to festivals...Droves boarded busses in downtown Shizuoka, headed for the Nihondaira fireworks, despite cloudy weather. The Nihondaira is a huge, forested hill between Shizuoka and Shimizu, and the fireworks were to be set off over a grassy clearing near the top of the hill. As our hour-long bus ride took us up the winding, switchbacked road, we realized a thick cloud had stationed itself atop the Nihondaira. Davin, Joyce, Tatyana, and I were left off and proceeded to claim a spot on the crowded field, covered in fog. As showtime neared, people who had arrived early to claim prime blanket space began to pack up. A few test shots were fired, and the darkened sky lit up in solid color, as if we were watching a giant movie screen that briefly flashed plain green, then red.Nevertheless, an announcement was made that the show would go on, and the entirety of the display proceeded just as the test—a solid wall of color flashing before us—no individual sparks or distinguishable fireworks to be seen, until the end when they lit off a few ground displays (including a Mt. Fuji). Everyone who stayed was laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Definitely a most memorable fireworks experience.

Fuji-san Summit

2009-07-28T15:10:00.031+09:00

After attending a birthday party on Saturday night, we weren't exactly at our best the next morning, but Monday would be a National Holiday (no school), so Davin and I decided to climb Mt. Fuji on Sunday night. It was an idea we'd been considering for a few weeks, but hadn't really researched; when we looked up times for the last bus to the 5th station of Fuji, we had about half an hour to pack our bags and run to the train station to get to Fujinomiya. We got off the train at Fujinomiya and waited in the sunset for the bus that would take us to Fuji's 5th station. The hike is divided into 10 sections, with a mountain hut at stations 5-10 (10 being the summit). Most people don't traverse the rolling hills and quiet forests of stations 1-5, which I am sure are beautiful and would love to see someday, but we too opted to save our hiking legs and bus to the halfway point. The hourlong bus ride ended at an altitude of 2,400 m (7,874 ft). We were dropped off near a small building offering food and souvenirs, and after we put on all our warm clothes, we napped for a couple hours in the building's hallway before starting our climb at around 10 p.m. The idea was to hike through the night to arrive at the summit at sunrise. I had expected to step off the bus at the 5th station and be gasping for air (we grabbed cans of O2 at a convenience store in Fujinomiya just in case), but I was surprisingly fine. The whole hike was a bit blurry, surely due to general sleepiness, slight oxygen deprivation...but we hiked slowly and stopped at several stations along the way, taking little naps curled up outside where we could find a windbreak. We stopped for hot beverages and a snack at the 9th station (only 3,460 m), and the sun was already rising! Didn't get our timing quite right. It was absolutely beautiful; we were able to see the shadow Fuji was casting over the surrounding area. But we still had a bit more climbing to do...Sweet sleep-deprived victory: 3,776 m (12,388 ft). At the top, on the Fujinomiya side: a post office, a small shrine where people could get their walking sticks stamped with a Fuji summit imprint, and a shelter with space to sit, eat, and sleep.(We did the same thing about two seconds after I took this photo.)After a brief nap, we considered hiking around the crater at the top, but it was terribly windy (a hard-to-stand-up kind of windy), so we took in the view from the top, then started our journey down. Looking back toward the summit, it was wild to see how quickly the sky could change, and the whole trip it was interesting (and a little scary) to observe how fast the weather in general could shift. We had decent weather throughout our day on Fuji (relatively speaking...we were on top of a huge mountain, certain extremes to be expected), but we heard from some friends that had climbed up the other side of the mountain the day before, that there was a huge storm, people were asked to turn around at the 9th station, and two people got lost in the fog and eventually died of hypothermia. Fuji didn't seem so monstrous to me, but looking back, we were lucky. Down, down, and more down. At this point, walking through a cloud, I could certainly understand how easy it would be to get lost on Fuji: I am so glad to have conquered the highest peak in Japan!

This is not the moon.

2009-07-27T16:48:00.003+09:00

We witnessed a pretty spectacular solar eclipse here in Shizuoka on July 22. The day before, sweet solar shades had been distributed to all the teachers and students, and a couple telescopes had also been set up in preparation for the event.

But that Wednesday morning, the sky was gray and cloudy with a few sprinkles. Everyone was anxious. The vice principal eventually announced that we would have regularly-scheduled classes and forego standing outside, looking up at the cloudy sky, wasting valuable learning time...so third period, we started English class as usual. We sang a song, and I'd just explained the rules of the game we were going to play when the vice principal came over the intercom, letting us know that we was letting the kids go outside after all, since the eclipse was visible through occasional breaks in the clouds.
Everyone grabbed their black shades and ran outside, many immediately flattening themselves out on the pavement to look straight up at the sky (it was nice to see such an interest in this event...granted, the students were getting out of class, too, but they really did seem genuinely jazzed about the eclipse). It was only a partial eclipse in Shizuoka, but it was still pretty cool (One of the science teachers at my school had flown down to Okinawa just for the day, because it was a total eclipse there...hardcore).

I did get in a little English teachin' when I explained "partial eclipse" and "total eclipse" to the students I was hanging out with during the hour. They in turn explained to me that the Kanji for "solar eclipse" is the symbols for "sun" and "eat" put together, lovely!