We ROCKED that Rock!!

I finally climbed Mount Seoraksan!! (Wait - that might be redundant... "san" means "mountain"... I'm a foreigner, whatever it works.) This past weekend, my friend Gloria and I hiked/scaled to the top of Ulsanbawi, a beautiful rock formation smack dab in the middle of the park. It was gorgeous, and really nice to get out of the smog and congestion that surrounds Seoul and its outlying areas.

Located on the East Sea, we arrived in Sokcho Saturday afternoon, grabbed some Chinese noodles and dumplings and started off up to the mountain (only a 1,000 won bus from Sokcho to Seoraksan! ASAH!). Once we got to the national park, we had to choose which route to go, and from stories of friends, we decided to do Ulsanbawi in all its granite glory. In addition to it being a steep hike, there are 800 (or 888 if you ask locals) steps to the tippy-top. Our friend Sara told us about these steps, saying there were so many steps that when you thought you were at the top, there were only more steps up into the clouds. Nah, it can't be that bad. We assumed she was just exaggerating, and we dismissed her shenanigan speaking.

When I said I was going to climb a mountain, I wasn't meaning in literal terms, I thought it was going to be more along the lines of a hike, albeit strenuous at times. That is what I had anticipated, but it was not the case at all. There was climbing, I won't say there was a lot, but there was quite a bit. It was great, though! The scenery was spectacular, the views were breathtaking. Sure, there were [many] moments on [what Bowie refers to as] the "Stairs of Death" (seeming-rickety metal stairs twisting up the granite rock face) - open stairs, too, mind you. Like the ones you can look down through, the ones that gave me vertigo when I was climbing up a two- or three-stories wooden set up to "H2Oh no!" at Vernon, NJ's Action Park (I mean Mountain Creek). Yeah, well I got vertigo back then, and I got it again this past weekend. There was no singing to calm my nerves - like I do when I ski difficult slopes - only panicked whisperings. Not even reassuring whispers. I was whispering things along the lines of, "I'm going to die. I'm going to die right here on these stairs. I'm going to fall off these stairs. I'm never going to see the world. I don't want to die! I'm so scared. I'm so scared. Can I please go back down? I don't think I can move. I honestly can't move. What was that noise?!" I was half whispering to myself and half to Gloria with machine gunfire rapidity. I was clutching the railings with a white-knuckle fear that I've only ever known when I drove that giant U-Haul from CoMO to St. Joe to Chicago in the chilly late winter of 2008. Any sailboat master would have been proud to see me climb those stairs so swiftly, as I had not one, but two hands on those railings at all times. After my initial shock subsided, I moved with such speed and precision up those stairs, even I was impressed. It was my Everest, that Ulsanbawi.

There was a moment when I was climbing, during the fear of immediate and ultimate (what other kind is there?) death when I looked up and whispered, "I feel so small" with granite rock shooting up from either side of me, it was an incredible sight to behold for a split second, until a shift in the stairs made me realize where I was. I imagined they would rip out of the rock at any moment and I would find myself tumbling down everything I had just climbed - morbid, I know.

Afterwards, I found myself recounting the trek to my mother, and I told her how this experience had awakened my irrational fear of heights, but is something really irrational when you could die from it? Maybe not, but when I see children bounding up or down high area with loose, happy smiles on their faces instead of tight, cautious fear, it makes me wonder. All in all, I was so happy that I did it, and was able to share the experience with Gloria, who I would not have been able to make it without - given that she stayed over Friday night/Saturday morning and woke me up at 7:05a after we had only just got back from dancing at 5:30a. (Holy moly, me oh my! Korea and your 24-hourness.) Her encouragement to rouse me out of bed consisted of shouting "Is this the kind of traveler you're going to be, sleeping through adventures?" and throwing pillows. We also made it up and back in record time, two hours and twenty-nine minutes, while the ladies in the Tourist Info office told us it would be more like four hours! Rock stars! - no pun intended. Har har though, anyway.

Unfortunately we didn't have enough time to check out the supposedly beautiful Sokcho beaches because both Glor and I needed to be back early on Sunday (her to bungee and tie up loose ends because she left yesterday! And I needed to be back to pick up my friend Liz from the airport bus!! Travel buddy's here). The people in the area were friendly, the mood was laidback, and the scene was good. Highly recommended for adventurous travelers in Korea.

Two Weeks... and then!!!

I only have two weeks left to enjoy the simple pleasures of Korean life. I can't believe it! It seems like only yesterday that I boarded a plane in Chicago, sleep-deprived and sniffling (from a cold and also the thought of being away from loved ones for a whole year!) and arrived bleary-eyed and without luggage... was earth-shattering at the time, folks.

Definitely a whirlwind of a year, but I'll get all nostalgic on you later. For now, here is a song that is completely irrelevant except for the fact that it's entitled "Two Weeks"... and I like it.



PS - will hopefully be lounging on a beach in Boracay or climbing through/around the rice terraces two weeks from right.now. bada-bing!

The Japan Chronicles: Part 1

**photos to be added later

Airport and Nagoya

We – Gloria, Jennie, Annie and I – started Saturday early; I woke up around 5A so I could shower before the 9ishA plane ride. Somehow, dawdling happened and we found it to be closer to 6A than we expected. Not wanting to miss our airport bus, we found ourselves speed-walking then running like the McCallisters with umbrellas through our sleepy little town – no better way to start a vacation in my eyes than an early morning adrenaline rush. We made the bus and got onto our flight without a hitch. As we’re watching the safety video and cruising around the tarmac our plane stopped and went quiet. The captain came on the intercom in a calm voice and notified us that the engine had shut off and that hopefully it’d be up and running in no time. Oh, okay. No problem, just a little engine failure before we take off. I’m not a religious person, but I said extra prayers (I pray when I fly, like I cross myself when I ride my bike in downtown Chicago during rush hour, hoping I'm doing it correctly). Despite my strong conviction that we were never going to make it off that plane, we arrived safely in one piece.

JAPAN!! We validated our JR Passes and hopped a train to Nagoya. We wandered around the streets in awe of the fact they drive on the left and the wheel’s on the right, my first reaction to this was, “They drive on the wrong side of the road” after which I corrected myself to “the other.” Then I forgot about it and saw a child in the passenger seat and thought it was driving. There were other moments like this when I was worried that the driver (actually passenger) was going to get into an accident because they weren’t looking at the road. Oh, misconceptions!

Nagoya was clean, and the air was breathable! AND YOU CAN DRINK TAP WATER IN JAPAN!! It was the most incredible thing! Japan is super friendly towards blind people, at least the less crowded areas, and the walk signs would chirp like little birds notifying when to walk and when to not. This also helped when my cohorts and I were zoning out soaking in our new surroundings.

We checked into our hotel, and situated ourselves on our third floor rooms only to find two beds, a TV, fridge and wardrobe in each room. The women’s toilets were on the second and fourth floors and the women’s bath was in a separate room on the fourth floor as well. After we unloaded our bags we explored the quiet town in search of food. Because we had a couple vegetarians in tow, we searched high and low before finding a place with a pretty extensive menu that wasn’t so expensive. As we walked in the place the host shouted something out and everything seemed to get quiet as everyone turned and watched us, it was only a glance (and it probably wasn’t even from most) and it only lasted a moment, but it seemed as if it happened in slow motion and if it were a movie the subtitle under the hosts hollering would’ve read something like, “Can I have everybody’s attention?! We’ve got our first foreigners of the night!” It felt as if we had walked into some vampire bar and the host had called out in some ancient language, “Hey everybody! We have our first group of fresh flesh for the night” – maybe I’ve been watching too much “True Blood.”

Blah, blah, blah we ate and then wandered around the town which seemed to be a small square full of shops that closed down at Western hours – not used to that after being in Korea for almost a year where places stay open until at least 11P if not later. We found a Family Mart and felt right at home in the safety under the blue, green and white neon lights. We definitely spent at least 30 minutes in there oohing and ahhing over the Fresh Cola Mentos, Green Tea KitKats, all different varieties of candies and snacks, and so many mango-flavored things. MANGO!! “This is so weird… and amazing!”

I’ll move onto Sunday. We got up relatively early and walked miles and miles to get to the Aichi Prefecture Gymnasium to watch a sumo tournament. We lost Annie and Jennie on the way, and before buying more expensive tickets than I would’ve liked without consulting Jennie all the reasonably tickets sold out and all that was left were $80 ones. I was disappointed, but I wasn’t about to drop that kind of dough on something when I had eight days in front of me in the most expensive country in Asia. Luck was on our side though, and we were able to see four wrestlers on their ways to and from the stadium. It was pretty awesome. And we went and saw a castle, too, and found a super sweet city park where the cicadas or locusts, or whatever were shrilling loudly.

After walking around in the blinding heat for hours, we made it back to our hotel, grabbed our bags and jumped on a train heading for Kyoto!!

The Japan Chronicles: Part 2

**photos to be added later

Kyoto

Annie’s friend, Ben, met us outside of Kyoto Station, but not before we were scolded by a guard for sitting against a wall – there were no benches in sight! We found a low raised wall and lounged there like a few vagabonds next to an old man with his trousers around his ankles, to give him some credit it was ridiculously hot (but it wasn’t humid, another thing that was magical after being subjected to outdoor shower-like conditions in Korea) and he was wearing boxers. The guard approached our area again, but luckily he was after the old man this time.

Ben showed up and we took the train to his area, central-west Kyoto, and we rented bicycles for that night and the next day. BICYCLES!! Everyone rides bicycles in Japan!! Drivers follow the traffic laws and pedestrians have the right away – I tell you, this place, this place was one long, phenomenal dream.

We rode our bikes back to Ben’s, dropped our stuff off and headed out into the sunset with Ben and his roommate, Miguel, as our guides to the Gion area (where the geishas are!). My heart is still in Kyoto; the architecture was incredible, nature was woven into the city at every chance, and the people were kind.

Sushi for dinner! Fresh and tasty. Then Ben and Miguel showed us Kyoto’s local late-night flavor. Our first stop was a bar called Hachimanjiya which is this photographer’s (Fusayoshi Kai) bar. Notes from that experience: a strong odor of urine [and rats, as Gloria described it] overwhelmed my nostrils before I stepped foot into the book-piled bar. Like something out of a Murakami novel, the bartender rubbed his nose and pushed his finger-smugged glasses up to his eyes and he nodded and grunted a greeting. Jazz music wafted through the air as we wove our way through the organized clutter to sit around the marble tables graffiti-ed with images of the owner. A glass of plum wine accompanied each of us with stacks of [his] photography books set on the table. Ooh. Ahh. A true hole in the wall kind of place.

oboes

open bathroom door

posters peeling off the walls and ceilings

ripped chair backs

worn

images seen through years behind a lens

The shadow of my hand danced across the page in the flickering candlelight as I tried to scribe the scene ahead.

            “I want some postcards.”

            “Dig in.”

Sorting through images of Japan’s past, packed with dust, awakening sneezes.

Ben and Miguel shook hands with the man, said their good-byes, we bowed in appreciation and everybody moved on. The next place they took us to was a bar called “ING” and it’s a bar dedicated to the Rolling Stones. The owner dude prefers music from the 60s and 70s – obviously the Stones. He will close the bar down for three months at a time if the Stones are touring and follow them around England; he’s a purist and he will only see them play their motherland. Japanese; waif; long, luscious hair speckled with silver; rocks; kindly; prefers “See you tomorrow!” to “Sayonara!” It was a dark and seedy place with a soul of its own; Stones paraphernalia throughout.

The next place we went to technically doesn’t exist. It’s a sort of speakeasy place, a bar without license. I don’t know if it was to keep it discreet or to set the atmosphere, but the place was only lit by candles that would go out from time to time, especially if someone used one to light a cigarette.

That was Sunday. Here comes Monday; hold onto your hats!!

ON bicycles…

#1 – the Silver Pavilion: simplistic zen gardens. A lot of greenery, with a forest fenced inside and out. Beautifully manicured, we saw a lot of workers quietly caring for the grounds. Probably my second favorite place in Kyoto – temple/shrine-wise; Kyotoans prefer it to the Golden Pavilion, and I would have to agree. The Golden Pavilion was nice and all, but oh, we’ll get to that later.

#2 – Heian-jingu Shrine: BRIGHT!! So, so, so bright in the main compound area because it’s this vast area covered by white gravel with red-orange and green structures rising out of the ground. The main area seemed like some sort of desert mirage and caused sweat to pour just being out in the unrelenting sun with a mirror basically at your feet. There were four gardens behind the desert that allowed some relief from the heat with huge trees shading us from the sun. As you can see, it offered a lot of great photos, with a couple of “family shots” thrown into the mix. I like to have fun with the self-timer, and I can be slightly boss-y (but fun!) when setting up photos. It’s all about the memories folks, real and forced.

#3 – Sushi stop!!: Conveyor belt sushi, and it was so-so-so delicious. This being the only photo I took, you can believe that to be true, as I was too busy eating to snap any more. Rule – or order rather – I didn’t know about sushi, you’re supposed to start with the lighter fish and work your way up to finish off with the dark fish, like tuna. Huh! How about that!? Maybe you already knew, but I found it to be handy information.

#4 – Geisha Hunting/Chasing in Gion: We found a couple, too!! To be considerate of the other pedestrians we were walking our bikes through the area in hopes of spotting a geisha or two, I was lagging behind the group taking photos when I turned around to Annie yelling, “C’mon, Kate!” and saw my friends hopping on the bikes. I threw my camera in the basket, forgetting what we had come to do until Gloria turned around and pointed ahead of her excitedly, “We got one!” I picked up my pedaling pace and rounded the corner just in time to see a blue Yukata-clad (I can only imagine that’s what she was wearing as Kimonos are the traditional winter wear) woman gliding up the street and out of sight. Riding on euphoria out of Gion we joked money to the next person who spotted one. I can’t remember who it was, but someone called out and pointed to a couple fakers on the sidewalk and got deducted points (apparently it’s popular for Japanese women/tourists to dress like geishas and walk around the city) – we knew they were fakers because they were walking all clumsy-like. As we rounded the corner we saw a woman walking on a cloud and immediately everyone’s pedals began to churn like they were attached to an Orville Redenbaucker’s movie theater butter popcorn factory. I raced again and caught a couple shaky shots of the geisha and my friends in hot pursuit. Ben, being conversational in Japanese, stopped her and asked if we could take a photo, she declined but seemed to hesitate which gave us the perfect amount of time to shoot off as many pictures as we could. Turns out she was a miko (sp) or geisha apprentice, but wasn’t in full face probably because the heat would’ve melted it off anyway.

Sidenote: Geisha hunting (or “disturbing”) is illegal in Kyoto, so if you ever find yourself on bikes in Gion, be wary not to harass.

#5 – Kiyomizu Temple: nestled above a long, bustling street full of vendors and tourists milling around. Surrounded by forests, (which seems to be common in Japan, or at least Kyoto, which is in a valley) the temple was beautiful and provided good – but what could be great on a less humid day – views of the city. There was also a spring that I think the temple was built around… something about a monk finding a hermit who led him to this well… There was a line for the spring and I waited in it and filled up my water bottle; cool and fresh. Cats everywhere and Haruki on my mind; also felt euphoric from riding a bicycle around, and perhaps delusional from the heat, but I wrote “Riding a bike felt so good, and as if I was at one with Kyoto and its people.”

#6 – Fushimi Inari Shrine: We biked here through a Kyoto that isn’t seen by many [visitors, let’s say]. Breath-taking forest with hundred upon hundreds – dare I say thousands of red-orange gates intertwining through the trees. It really was a sight to be seen, and I think my most favorite place in Japan. The serenity of the place might have been due to the fact that we arrived close to sunset so it wasn’t teeming with tourists. Unfortunately, given the timing of things – we had to get our bikes back and we were with a couple of Sweetbloods (Jennie and Gloria were being relentlessly attacked by mosquitos) – we were unable to trek the whole way around, but one day I will be back – I hope (there were so many instances that Japan was begging me to come back, this being one of them, and the failed sumo tournament attempt, and the failed Mt. Fuji attempt, and the failed kabuki theatre attempt… but we’ll get to those others in time).

I love this place. The people, the sights, the sounds. Very much like the West – expensive, too. Eesh! That bike was good. Ice cream all the time.

Seriously though, we ate ice cream at least once a day. At least.

We had Mexican for dinner; enchiladas with CHEESE!! It’s the little things.

The Japan Chronicles: Part 3

**photos to be added later.

Kyoto Continued

Last day in Kyoto. Day 4 in Japan. Maybe it’s getting hotter. Maybe our bodies weren’t meant to withstand this kind of heat… either way it’s producing buckets of sweat out of our Western selves. It’s hard to stay hydrated; it’s like filling up a wooden bucket with the planks not properly connected.

Cleansing. Detox time.

We have the best hosts ever, I’m pretty sure. They are currently creating a spread of breakfast dishes; toast, bacon, cheesy eggs, real coffee, milk, and a variety of juice-uh. YUM!

Friendships made while traveling: starts with a handshake and ends in a hug.

At the Golden Pavilion first. It was gold, that was neat, but the grounds weren’t as nice as the Silver Pavilion’s, so I mostly though meh. Don’t get me wrong, it was beautiful, but I prefer silver in general so maybe that’s why.

@ the Ryoanji Temple (Zen rock garden)

: the sunlight spilled over the small rocks creating a sea-like trance, like waves gently moving in the breeze. Maybe it was the heat reflecting off the white surface, but despite the chainsaws blaring in the background, the scene was serene.

Cedar filled the air, remind me of Silver Dollar City back in the day.

The manicuring of the place with chainsaws and weedwhackers was pretty ridiculous, I understand appearances need to be maintained, but can’t we do that kind of work when people aren’t paying to soak in some peace of mind? Perhaps the noise was there on purpose to remind us of needing to get past the chaos in our everyday lives… sure, we’ll go the optimistic route with that one.

Bamboo Forest… some bridge over some river… rickshaw drivers with David sculpted muscles. “DON’T TOUCH THE PEACHES!” (We got yelled at, in English, from a market owner when we were testing the produce. We’re gonna buy it, sir.) “THEY ARE FRESH! GOOD!” Small doors everywhere. Oh, Asia. Parfaits – the most delicious way to say good-bye to Kyoto. Photo booths with enlarged eyes. Creepy, but oh-so fun!

The Japan Chronicles: Part 4

**note: if I talk about photos I'll add them in later.

Oh, Osaka!

You’re Chicago’s Sister City, therefore I automatically love you by default. Here’s one of my favorite quotes from Theodore Dreiser’s Sister Carrie:

“To the child, the genius with imagination, or the wholly untraveled, the approach to a great city for the first time is a wonderful thing. Particularly if it be evening - the mystic period between the glare and gloom of the world when life is changing from one sphere or condition to another. Ah, the promise of the night. What it does not hold for the weary! What old illusion of hope is not here forever repeated! Says the soul of the toiler to itself, 'I shall soon be free in the ways and hosts of the merry. The streets, the lamps, the lighted chamber set for dining, are for me. The theatre, the halls, the parties, the ways of rest and the paths of song - these are mine in the night.' Though all humanity be still enclosed in the shops, the thrill runs abroad. It is in the air. The dullest feel something which they may not always express or describe. It is the lifting of the burden of toil.”

We got lost in the bright lights. Wandered back and forth across the streets looking for our capsule hotel. Found it. Relaxed like astronauts or folks on Starship Enterprise. 1984 references, I still can’t believe I haven’t read that book. Sapporo in hand, sitting on the side of a bridge; I enjoyed the late night scene of Osaka with Jennie and G, all clean and fresh. Got picked up by some maybe surfers in a sparkly white mini van-like vehicle:

            “Are you from?” after they slowly passes and backed up to us, and rolled down their window. Passenger leaned over and did the talking. We said America. I said, “Chicago! Sister City!” and the speaker said, “Oh mama!”

Me: I’m sorry?

Him: Ohmama! [raised fist]

Me: Oh! Obama! Yeah.

Him: Yes we can!

Me: Yes we can!

All the while we see some figure moving around in the back, maybe giving speaking advice to talkie in the front, and Gloria kept saying “We’re gonna get taken away.” We laughed and waved and they drove away. I wish I would’ve snapped a picture, but at the same time I can envision it perfectly. White van in the black night. Two dudes, red-headed with shadows of a third, looking for babes then packing up the back to catch some waves… in Okinawa?

Japan note: although I love the Styx song “Domo Arigato [Mr. Roboto]” it gave me false impressions that saying “domo arigato” was the correct way to say “thank you.” It is not. “Arigato gozaimas” is, and I kept saying “arigato go-my-zou” – I blame it on my alma mater, the University of Missouri. And I did not see, nor share a beer with Haruki Murakami and talk about his novels and musical inspiration and running, and life in general. I can’t say that I wasn’t disappointed by that, as far of a stretch as that dream was, Annie was hoping for it, too.

The Japan Chronicles: Part 6

Hiroshima. Globalize This.

It only seemed fitting that it was raining the evening we arrived. We got lost in the downpour as we searched for our hostel in Miyajima – coastal town in Hiroshima Prefecture – wandering in the wrong direction (getting lost seems to be the story of our Japanese life). The Backpackers Hostel we stayed at was definitely a hostel, teeming with tired, but smiling foreigners relaxing in the laidback island atmosphere provided by the generous and enthusiastic owners. We got a much needed night of rest in the camp-like bunk beds that were separated from the rest of the enormous room by floor to ceiling sheets – my first experience with this brand of hostel – and in the morning we headed out in the fog to see Itsukushima Shrine in the water off of Itsukushima Island, supposedly it’s one of the three most beautiful sights in Japan. We were told by one of the hostel owners that if we woke up early enough the tide would be low and we would be able to walk out to the shrine. We didn’t wake up early enough.

We were in Hiroshima city by 10a and it struck me as strange that it so much resembled any other minor metropolitan area. I imagined the city would be a slow-moving black and white silent film, but the train terminal was bustling in the morning hours. Immediately we made our way over to the A-Bomb Dome (Hiroshima Peace Memorial), which used to be a city exhibition hall, designed by Czech architect Jan Letzel in 1915 and is left as a reminder of what happened and that although the city is rebuilt, there is still a pride for what the area once was and what happened and how the people were strong at the time and survived. After walking around the skeleton of the building, we stumbled upon one of the survivors that the guy at the hostel told us about. She was sharing her personal experience with a crowd of people, explaining to everyone the amount of horrific destruction that was unleashed on Hiroshima’s people with a click of a button. We had only caught the tail end of it, but we were lucky enough to have been approached by Mito Kosei, an in-utero survivor who was more than happy to share his story. I don’t mean to say that he was jolly over the events of that fateful day, but he told us that by telling his story he hopes that we, as listeners will retell it, and our listeners will pass it on and so on and so forth until we all come to an understanding that this never should have happened in the first place and that we will never let it happen again. Mito heavily emphasized that it is important to forgive, but never to forget, for by forgetting it means we dismiss the significance the event had on humankind and our world. He provided us with personal family history (and you can read his mother’s memoirs), gave us information on the actual bomb dropping and aftershock that the museum didn’t provide, and took us on a small tour to a cemetery and the hypocenter. Then he showed us a place that had great okonomiyaki that we definitely ate after touring the museum.

The Hiroshima Peace Museum was overwhelming to say the least. Even thinking about it right now is hard. There was a building just devoted to the information on the creation of the atomic bomb and decision to bomb Hiroshima and Nagasaki even though everybody knew Japan was going to surrender. Then after being bogged down with all that information that I haven’t studied since high school came the personal accounts and artifacts that was probably the most heartbreaking thing I’ve experienced in I can’t even remember. Being in the museum had the same sort of affect on me that the Vietnam Memorial did when I was a teenager; I knew (and still know) virtually nothing about the Vietnam conflict other than it was a quagmire much like the Middle East is now and we had no business being there, much like any invader in any time and place in history. Regardless, seeing those names opened something inside me and I found myself silently weeping as I walked along, call it compassion; call it shock at the horror of what humans are capable of. The museum gave more than names, though; there were articles of clothing, watches, shoes, home decorations, and then there was hair and skin and teeth that loved ones who witnessed the death kept for those who were away to show there was still something left of their son, daughter, brother or sister, mother or father. It was really hard to handle, and I was just reading about it. There was a room that was recreated to look like Hiroshima after the drop, with decimated buildings and wax figures walking towards a well with skin falling off their bones. Survivors were told not to give water to those badly burned because it would only hasten their death, so many people were (and are still) haunted with the regret of having to refuse their neighbors relief; much of the water/wells were contaminated because people died as they were trying to get a drink.

Politics make me sick, and that’s all acts of war are, politicians flexing their muscles with innocent people paying the ultimate price.

Despite all the dark history Hiroshima holds within its borders, it looks optimistically to the future and stands as a symbol of peace to the world. The people, as well as the city, are beautiful, and the okonomiyaki is probably the most fantastic thing I ate in Japan (and that’s saying a lot because Japanese food in Japan is something truly magical).

After some discussion, we decided that Mt. Fuji would be ridiculous to squeeze in as it would cost us around 8,100 yen ($85ish) in extra transportation fees and accommodation, and we wouldn’t even get there until just before midnight. I don’t regret it; another time, another trip. We got on the train headed back to Osaka. Back to the capsules.

The Japan Chronicles: Part 5

Doe, a deer.

Blow drying my hair never felt better… crumbling to the convenience of small luxuries this early in the trip (day five) leaves me concerned for how I’ll fare come my two month tour across SE Asia and India.

People have been so kind; showing us the way, either by drawing a map or taking us there. Japan is a magical place. The mystique of the far east, but a western seeming place, indeed.

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Sometime later, my love of the Japanese people was reignited. Seriously, the people are so kind here. I remember thinking, “No way that’s possible!” when I was told Japanese were kinder than Koreans. Don’t get me wrong, Koreans are extraordinarily friendly, but the Japanese – amazing. Good people. It’s so true, the more travels I take, the more I realize that people are just people and we’re all here trying to help each other get through this thing, whatever it is. [Thank you, Vonnegut.]

Nara. The birthplace of Japanese imperialism.

The city is currently celebrating its 1300 year history. We joined in on the celebration with a tour of the deer-ridden area. Deer everywhere might not seem so bad, and could be magical, but these deer are a different breed. Believed to be messengers from the gods (pre-Buddhism), these deer have been coddled by humans for centuries – at least a millennium! – and are not afraid to see if you have something worth room in their bellies. Cute from a distance, slightly menacing up close and personal – if you have a cracker, watch out! That’s all I’ll say.

One little girl made the mistake of being short (read: deer-level) and distributing her crackers slowly. The deer seemed to telepathically alert each other of the opportunity at hand and soon there was a swarm around this screaming child, crackers in hand. Her mother shielded her and tried to bat away the deer, but they pushed on, unfazed by the whacks and thwacks. The mother then moved the girl up to higher ground, but the deer craned their necks. Eventually the mother regained her senses and threw her daughter’s crackers at the beasts, after which they happily retreated. The daughter was then scolded by her father for being an embarrassment and making a scene. It was pretty funny. I was lucky enough to capture some of the incident on video (please disregard my deer-related ramblings, if you can even hear them over the screams).

I suppose I shouldn’t be so hard on the girl, though. I was feeding the deer crackers, myself, and there was at least one that kept biting at the flowers on my shirt and one stepped on my toes with its hooves!! And they had antlers… so yeah, I guess it would be scream-worthy being attacked at their level. All you can see are their big eyes… and as we know from Roy’s reaction upon first meeting me, big eyes can be tear-inducing for an Asian child (though by and large, it seemed that Japanese people have bigger eyes than Koreans).

The area the deer were trolling around was Nara-koen, the park that included many Japanese National Treasures, deer included; Kofuku-ji, (“ji” is Japanese for “temple”) the three- and five-storied pagodas, and Todai-ji, which houses Daibutsu-den Hall, the largest wooden structure in the world. Daibutsu-den Hall also houses the world’s largest indoor Buddha, at 50 feet high; it’s the image of Dainichi Buddha, or the cosmic Buddha, believed to be the first Buddha… in my understanding of things. It was pretty spectacular, and in the giant gate leading up to the hall there were these two massive [Nio] guardians carved out of wood who looked like something out of Ghostbusters. Apparently they were recently restored, too. (The mesh covering the roof overhangs and various outdoor statues is intended to keep large winged creatures from making their homes there.)

Overall, Nara was pretty incredible. I always find it so strange to visit places that have been around since before 1000 BCE. Then again, this whole experience is only my first time abroad, so I haven’t had many chance encounters with ancient civilizations.

After we saw the main sites, we ate falafel – wow, simple pleasures! – and hopped a train to Hiroshima.

The Japan Chronicles: Part 7

So much writing to do...

The Japan Chronicles: Part 8

I might have a lot to say...

Sayonara, Japan!

Stories from Tokyo will happen here...

A Muddy Good Time!!

Stories from Mud Fest will be updated relatively soon-ish...

Me and Mom

Details about my mom's visit will go here....

TOP IT UP!!!

The week before vacation we had a staff dinner. The greatest thing about these dinners is the free food and drink, and company too, of course. We went to a delicious galbi restaurant that one of our student's family owns, and they brought out round after round of tasty, marinated meat until we were all beyond full, or had snake bellies (sounds better than saying "food baby," Annie picked it up from her years in the Carolinas). Soju was had as well (regular part of business dinners - you should see the bottles those businessmen polish off any night of the week!), but it didn't flow like usual because it was a Tuesday and Wednesday is everyone's long day.

Anyway, so we're finishing our dinners and the boss man comes to the middle of the table which just so happens to be across from me. He wants to get in on the gossip in action; he brings his shot glass down, too. I had a little bit of drink still left, but I held out my shot glass and told a Korean co-teacher to "top it off." My boss's ears perked up at this, "Top it up? What is this?"

Me: Top it off. It means to fill the glass to the top.
Him: I see. Top it UP.
Me: Close, but it's top it OFF-Fuh.
Him: Ohhhh, ofp. [raises his glass] Hey, everybody! Top it up! Top it up!
[We take the soju, some sip, but I shot it as the last of the night.]
Him: [After I turned back to the table - it's a sign of respect to turn your head away from an elder when you're drinking.] You drank all?
Me: Yeah...
Him: Wow! Amazing! Beautiful! Foxy! Magnificent! What more can I say?!

And that's a little glimpse into the fun and awkwardness of things lost in translation at work and work-related events. Twenty teaching days left and I think I'm going to miss it...

So, I got peed on today.

I guess I should've known it was bound to happen sooner or later given the nature of my work, but I didn't really think it would.

Alex was sitting on my lap after lunch while we were reading a story in class. Everything was fine and dandy, then he got quiet and shortly after moved to his seat abruptly. I looked down as I was scooting in my chair and, BAM! Little wet spot on my thigh. Oh my! "Alex, do you need to go to the bathroom?" I asked as I pointed to my leg. He gave a shy smile and nodded. Oy vey. Cold water and soap, because it's like any other spill, right? Awesome.