An Island of Cedar

Yakushima - 11/3 - 11/6

I began writing this blog post on my way home from Kagoshima after the busy but awesome weekend on an island that really feels like it is a different world but it took me a few days to finish writing and a few weeks to manage to type it up. But, here it is!

Welcome to Yakushima!

11/7/11

Ok, it's Monday and after a very tiring day of travel (1.5hrs to the ferry from the hostel, 2.5hrs on the ferry, 5.5hrs on a bus the about an hour in a car) I passed out when I got home then slept as long as my alarm clock would allow. I am so excited about this trip even now that I immediately told the principal at my school this morning all about Yakushima and showed her some of the pictures.

So where to begin? The trip was originally to begin on Wednesday night with me catching the last train down to Miyazaki to spend the night with A then continue then continue the rest of the way on Thursday morning. Well, I waited patiently for the train which was suppose to leave promptly at 7:38 allowing me just enough time to catch the 8:15 train from Oita. And waited. The train ended up coming really late around 7:52 by which time I had given up hope of making my connection and called my friend to come get me from the station, in defeat. The station master still argues that I could have made the connection but I got my refund then brainstormed with my ride until we formulated a new plan to get me to Kagoshima. Meeting my friend A in Miyazaki and still making it to Yakushima in one day was looking to be impossible and and eventually we decided I would just take a bus down to Kagoshima by myself and meet A there to catch the ferry.

yeah... monkeys in the road

Let's get our bearings, A!

As you saw in the beginning of this entry, I had to train to Oita then take a long bus ride to get to Kagoshima but luckily it was not stressful. Well, the stress I was feeling as not directly connected to the bus ride itself, but rather time limitations. The plan was to arrive in Kagoshima at 2:10 at the ferry port so I could catch the (last) ferry at 2:30 to the island with A. Luckily, despite the festival in the middle of the street, I made it to the ferry terminal with about 15 mins to spare and made it to Yakushima with no problems. Of course once we got the island our situation turned a little glum. The sun had mostly set by the time we hit land and since it was past 5 most of the shops and businesses had closed for the night. While we had reserved a hostel in advance, we unfortunately did not realize it would be on the other side of an island much larger than the map led me to predict. (Don't get me started on Japanese map's amazing ability to make one place seem footsteps apart when it is really 50km and another seem oceans away when it is merely a 2min walk). Damn deceptive Japanese maps.

Map of Yakushima,  very top is the port... very bottom is where our hostel was. ;-)

Anyway, the hostel was literally on the opposite of the port where we pulled in and while we were waiting for the (last) bus to take us there, a Japanese approached us. He had overheard us complaining to a couple of other JETs we met while on the ferry and offered to call the hostel for us and see if we could change to one closer to the port. A little confused and desperate, I conceded the phone number (and A's phone) to him and after a lot of 'hmmm...'-ing, the man handed back the phone with a disappointed look.

Time for a break.

We continued to wait for the bus a while longer until he approached us again in his vehicle. Despairing the what we feared would be a 2000yen (about $23) bus ride per person ('luckily' we found out later it was only about 1200yen [$17]) we consented to allow him to drive us to a closer bus stop. Somehow between him chatting my ear off and A nodding off in the back he actually ended up driving us the whole way and as a show of appreciation we paid him 1000yen each as gas money.

The hostel owner, however, was a-whole-nother cup of tea. He was just the kind of person to greet us with a smart-ass remark about how lucky we were to make it. Once we got checked in and the car rental, meal request and payment out of the way he gave us a big smile reminding us how lucky we were to be residing in such a fine establishment and how silly we were to try and change hostels. He smile bespoke of everything but happiness but we will let it slide.

Self explanatory

Friday morning dawned bright and early with us out of the room and on the way to Yakusugi land by 8:30. We grabbed breakfast and snacks at a convenience store (I really recommend you just get meals from where you end of staying if you come to this island - there is very limited selection in terms of... everything) and got started on the trail. Despite the themepark like name, this area of forest boasts 4 "choose your fate" paths which all center around the shortest of the routes darting off in various big loops to see various landmarks. We chose the longest (estimated to take 150mins) and at about the halfway point I left A in a comfy gazebo and continued up the optional mountain path by myself. Although I had estimated about one hour for the trip (the map said it was 2.5km each way), it actually took me about an hour each way as most of the path was straight up. The top was covered in a cloud of wind and rain but definitely fulfilled its promise of big rocks. I climbed up as far as the ropes and footholds would allow me, trying to follow the voices I heard from the other side of the rock, but after almost losing my camera and subsequently my footing to the wind, I gave up and began the descent back down. Honestly, I have not felt real fear in a long time but standing on the edge of a stone precipice with my back against a steep rocky wall and nothing ahead but a steep drop into rocky forest below... Well, when the wind picked up from behind me I was frightened.

A bridge...

Interesting twist to my adventure - as I was climbing down from the rocky mountain face, I found the source of one of the voices I had heard previously. It was a man trying to squeeze between two narrow rock ledges trying to get back onto the path. I offered to hold his pack for him so he could climb back down unhindered and once he landed on solid ground asked how far he had made it up the mountain face. I was beginning to fret thinking I had climbed all that way just to be scared before making it to the top of the mountain (there had been no signs or anything to mark my end point). Well, on our way out of the pass we passed another couple who had stopped to rest (the other source of the voices - man sound echoes in such strange ways in places like that) and when we asked them how far you could climb to the top they assured us that we had actually surpassed the recommended climbing area into experienced only zone so we had made it well past the top of the mountain. I did a little yay dance.

I descended back down the path with 'stuck between a rock and a hard place' boy in tow and met back up with A in what seemed like a very short time. Guess conversation really does pass the time. The day finished without further incident (I won't say uneventfully because I was surrounded by awe-inspiring forests and ancient cedars but once you have saved someone from certain rock squishing doom everything else pales in comparison -haha) around 4 and so with a little time to spare we stopped into the museum at the start of the trail before returning to the hostel for an early dinner.

Top of the mountain day 2

A French couple we met over dinner happened to be planning a trip to the same trail we were planning to visit the next day (the Shiratani Usuikyo) so A and I offered them a ride to save them the bus trip. We agreed to set out at 7 since the drive itself was purported to take 2 hours and although I had spent the day exerting myself I still managed to get a crappy night's sleep. Also, since I couldn't sleep anyway I went ahead and woke up before the sun to take a nice long walk around the part of the island we were stationed on.

Mononoke forest, anyone?

With the sun and the French couple up, we headed out on our second day excursion where we only managed to take a wrong turn once. Japan's ability to make such spectacularly helpless maps made a comeback again. This area of the forest is rumored to be the most spectacular on the island and I can say that despite the rain (or perhaps because of it), I was inclined to believe the rumors.

Yeah, it was heavier than it looks.

 As an aside, the island itself is beautiful in it's own right with the ocean curbing right up onto a shore dotted with dried lava plumes, hidden hot springs and the occasional beach. But with aid of years of preservation efforts, the inner parts of the island lend a rough, rugged look to everything, including the man-made bits with moss covering every surface from the roads to the roofs and trees with giant leaves kept very minimally at bay from the sparsely inhabited coastline (the population of the island is about 30,000 people). The mountains begin almost immediately after the ocean ends giving the whole island a cone-shaped appearance, and the constant threat of rain makes the tallest mountains (about 2.5km) look as though they are covered in a healthy topping of whipped cream. This place is truly a magical rain forest copied through the years in movies like Fern Gully or more aptly, Princess Mononoke.

Mononoke woods!!

That being said, Saturday gave A and me the full experience. We spent the morning and early afternoon trekking through the moss covered cedars all the way to the top of the mountain (which was obvious this time) then split paths slightly on the way back down since I wanted to see a little deeper into the forest. We met again at the bottom of the path with wet clothes and shoes but high and dry spirits. it was a little after three when we finally got the group back together again and after dropping off the French couple at the hostel we continued on to visit a famously beautiful beach on the upper corner of our map. Turns out this is where all the monkeys and deer hang out so we spent some time taking in a bit of the beach (with surprisingly warm water), the sunset and monkey gatherings. We actually had to stop multiple times on the road until we could manage to convince the monkeys to move aside and let our car pass. Yes, you heard me right... the sight of my mechanical machine did nothing to disturb the clearly fearless monkeys (one of whom actually grabbed his package and swung his hips in a very lewd fashion at us). Another quick aside, this is also the only part of the island where you can access world heritage forest areas by vehicle.

beach, ah.

Beach, ocean and spectacular views of the setting sun between bits of natural world heritage forests did not disappoint and I must admit, the island won me over then. A said this would be a nice place to outlast a zombie invasion but I think this would be a nice place to live out the rest of my life. I can't wait to make another trip out to this island.

Sunset, my favorite thing

But wait! The trip is not quite done yet. Sunday morning we planned to set out on the 8 o'clock bus to take us on the almost two hour trip back to the ferry port. Being as we were completely worn out on Saturday night, we passed out before ten and I woke up again for a walk in the morning to say a quiet goodbye to my new love. This was around 5:30 and we had the car rental until 8 so I decided to use the last few hours and drive to an ocean onsen (hot spring) not far form the hostel. Although I tried to wake up A knowing she had really wanted to make it out there, I was unsuccessful and so ended up going alone. Thinking to take some pictures while I watched to sunrise, I grabbed only my camera and parked myself just outside the entrance. Knowing I had missed low tide (the only way to access the pools is when the tide is out) and hoping there would be no lingering bathers I knew I would be unable to actually go into the bath but after about half an hour of watching and taking some pictures, I snuck down and dipped my feet into the water.

Beach-side hot spring.

The water was surprisingly hot (about 47 degrees Celsius according to the thermometer) and my feet felt the best they had felt all weekend. Only when the sun had made it all the way up and my camera battery finally died did I say my farewells to the quiet beach and head back to the hostel. It was a great way to start my way back home (though A was a bit mad at me that I didn't get her down there too) and even when I finally arrived late into Kitsuki I found myself still feeling the lingering effects of my island love and relaxation.


What a magical place. Love. ALSO! Check out this link below... I made a cool video of my pictures. <3

Licensing Part 2

For those of you who did not know, I successfully obtained my driver's license in Japan. I bring this up now because first of all, I forgot to update you on this achievement, but also because a close friend of mine, T, just recently went through the licensing battle here in Oita.

When I spoke of this last, I was detailing my drama getting together all of the paperwork and setting aside the time and money to successfully obtain the privilege (as this country would have it) to drive in Japan as a foreigner. Licensing Part 1 Well, when B and I went to the driving center for the first time on the designated day, we spent 3 hours being told we did not have the proper paperwork and thus wasting my day of paid vacation, as well as B's and no licenses. We were unaware we would be required to provide proof that we had resided in America for a period of at least one year while in possession of a driver's license. Apparently a passport is not enough proof of this as we were informed we would need a copy of bills, transcripts or tax forms to prove we actually physically resided in the country. Not a big issue for me because I was planning on returning to America in early July and could obtain any evidence needed, but a big deal for B who moved around a lot in the months before coming to Japan and burned her paper trail behind her.

The problem for me arose in the form of nenkyuu (paid vacation), as my journey saw me back in America in July gathering paperwork to signify my presence in America during the times listed in my passport. I was also there to visit my sick mom. It required all the rest of my time off and thus when I returned to Japan in mid-July, I still had no license and now had no time off with which to take the exam. My second year on contract would not begin until August 2nd and my license expired on August 1st.

For future reference, I really should have just printed off a copy of my transcript (although the driving center swears up and down they cannot take copies, I have heard no stories of people unsuccessfully handing in internet printed papers) and taken the driving test before I went to America. Either way, when I returned from my trip, my wonderful boss Mr. S ghetto-rigged a way fro me to use the last remaining half-day of my nenkyuu and to work half a day on a weekend to give me the full day I would need to go to the driving center. This did mean I had to pass on the first time if I planned on doing this before my license expired.

You may be wondering why it was such a big deal for me to get the new license before my old one expired. Well, to be honest, it probably was not that big of a deal, but the licensing center can only be reached by car and my boss as well as everyone I knew worked during the day so I would really have no way of accessing the center unless I paid a taxi driver. Looking back I probably had resources in the form of my neighbors and some student's parents, but at the time it felt like life or death.

Anyway, I went to the testing center the Saturday before my exam and practiced on the real course for an hour with a Japanese friend, then on July 28th took my first attempt at the test. People have since told me it was a miracle, but I passed on the first try. There were still some issues, considering I was in such a state of nervousness that I wore the wrong type of shoes to the exam and actually had to test in my indoor gym shoes, but my driving instructor was very kind and passed me right along.

I got to the center in the morning and was asked to wait for an hour while they sifted through my paperwork and prepared the written portion of the exam. Once it was my turn I was led to the back and questioned pretty thoroughly about the details of my permit and licensing history in America, all the way down to how many questions were on the written exam of my licensing exam in high school driver's education. Once that was finished I took the ten question multiple choice test (missing one question because I legitimately did not know you could change lanes when the there was a solid white line - for reference it is only solid yellow lines that mark lane changing prohibition). I then had to wait for another 2 hours for the driving instructor to meet me (I would be the last person to test for the day) and he first drew the course on a whiteboard to make sure I knew it, giving me a few tips along the way, then he drove me through the course. Then, it was my turn. I started out really nervous and thus slammed the gas a little funny a few times but he told me to take a deep breath and relax and from then on we chatted about his family and kids while I drove through the course. Once we were done, he shook my hand, told me congratulations and escorted me upstairs where the staff all proclaimed that miracles can in fact happen.

I am now the proud owner of a Japanese driver's license which, although it should be renewed occasionally, is good for the rest of my life. Good luck on your own tests and be warned that I only know three other JETs in my area who passed on the first time. The average seems to be about three tries though can go up to over 7.

Here is a link to the driving information I used for my licensing test for reference if you are reading this blog as a guide. Oita Licensing

Love!

Tsuru tsuru - Drifting

10/13/2011

After a long weekend in Korea, I find myself sitting at work this rainy, gloomy Thursday tired and sore but in slightly better spirits than when I left. Despite how excited I was to go, I can’t honestly say the trip was amazing. There were certainly wonderful parts of it – climbing to the top of a mountain, eating delicious food, being in the company of friends – but I am not left with the satisfied, refreshed feeling I was hoping for.

All of us in Amaterasu's cave

Let me reflect on my experiences since my last entry. On October 1st, I spent the day running and relaxing, knowing it would be the first and last day I could do so for a while. The next day, Sunday, I went with B and some Japanese friends and we went on a road trip to Takachiho town in Miyazaki prefecture. It is a historically famous place because it is said this is the area where much of Japanese folklore and myth took place.

Supposedly, the sun goddess and one of her brothers had an argument over some sheep and pillaging he had done and she hid away in a cave for shame. When she hid, she took the sun with her and the other gods tried desperately to lure her out of the cave. In the end they were successful and the cave where she hid is now a revered shrine in Takachiho town. It is actually quite a big cave and I found it difficult to imagine that a rock had slid into place over the entrance, but the history was there none the less and the area was incredibly beautiful.

The famous Takachiho gorge

The visit was made better by the fact that my memory of the history behind the place did not fail me. The drive itself took about 3 hours and among the things we talked about, I told the creation myth story to B. I had studied the Japanese creation myth in one of my literature classes in college and was fascinated by it so I decided to do my final presentation on the subject. I recalled the story itself as I explained it to B and came to find when I had finished that I could remember almost all of it. My Japanese friends also informed me that even they had been unaware of or had forgotten many of the details of the myth so it had served as a refresher to them too. Once at the shrine we wanted to see a reserved area so we asked a priest to give us a short tour. He told the story behind the shrine to us and I was blown away because for once I was right! Maybe it is bad to be so pleased with yourself but for those of you who know me, I always carry a bit too much confidence that my answer is incorrect, because it usually is, so it was nice to have it work the other way.

Once we finished the shrine and the cave we drove about 10 miles to the other side of Takachiho where there is a famous gorge. This area of Miyamoto prefecture has a very unique topography. Most of the people and roads are located up in the mountains because there is little, if any, flat land to be found in the region. Thus, at the bottom of the mountains, though in most places you are unable to see it, there is a big river that runs through the region. The gorge is a slightly more slow moving part of this labyrinth of rivers and it is where many beautiful waterfalls combine into a swirling pool of light blue water and eroded rocks. Pretty difficult to describe in words but I took plenty of pictures so flip through the attached slideshow. There are also boats that you can ride up the river but because of the recent typhoons and heavy rains, the river was running to hard and fast for them to be in operation. Bummer. We did, however, travel up the back way through a short mountain route to reach the shrine adjacent to the gorge. It was before lunch so everyone got a little cranky but it was nice at the top and the trees were so enormous that the four of us together could not wrap our arms around them. They are also ancient.

The gang (minus photographer)

On the trip back to Oita we stopped off at the beach to dip our feet in the water and enjoy more fresh air. I say stopped off but it was about 2 hours out of the way. No regrets though because I was in good company and the view was albeit a little cloudy but spectacular nonetheless and I got to splash around in the water as far as my capris would allow. We travelled back to Kitsuki a little wet and tired but well relaxed and in good spirits.

Although it was a great way to start the week, it did not allow me much sleep and the week was long and busy for me. Friday the 7^th I flew to Seoul shortly after a full week of work and between the train, flight and bus to meet my friend in the southern part of Korea, it took me until 4 in the morning on Saturday to get settled. I actually missed the last bus from the airport but luckily another group of JETs from Oita (coincidence?) were at the airport with a family member who was willing to drive me to the bus terminal. Once in Gwangju (the southern one), my friend and I planned to go mountain climbing on Saturday so we slept for a few hours and headed out around 11 to take the hour long bus to the mountain. The limited sleep and long bus ride were so worth it though because the mountain was amazing. It was 809m tall, making it perhaps the tallest mountain I have trekked (just confirmed that the only other mountain I have climbed was Itsukushima and it is only 535m) and the route included a very scenic hike through the rocky peaks of neighboring mountains on the way down. Overall the hike took about 4 hours (which my friend said is her fastest time up it so far) over the 7km route and I loved every minute of it. It was not always easy going as some places required going hand and foot up rocky inclines while other times there were ropes and metal footholds carved into the rocks which you had to use, but overall the hike was not terrible. And to reward us for the trip, the bottom of the mountain boasted a spectacular Buddhist temple done up in the Korean style.

The mountain I climbed in Korea

Japanese temples tend to be red, brown and white and I had grown accustomed to the aesthetic beauty of those temples – so much so that I seem to find Kinkakuji (the golden temple) a bit boisterous. Korea, however, embraces the colors in a slightly more subdued Indian style. They use lots of blues and greens and the walls of the temples are covered in images of happy Buddha and lesser gods. The contrast between those and Japanese temples is pretty stark (see below) but they both have their own beauty.


That evening my friend decided to take me out for her second favorite Korean pastime, behind climbing. The jimjilbang (Korean bathhouse). We took the elevator up to the 4^th floor in a hotel style building and once we exited, paid the entrance fee and were given a set of towels and orange clothes starkly resembling prison ensembles. One we passed through a set of doors I felt a little more comfortable because everyone was getting undressed around a few rows of lockers in much the same way the Japanese do. My friend asked me if I wanted the full experience and when I said yes, she made me set aside about $17 worth of won while we grabbed shampoo, soap, bath towels and face wash for the bath room. Like the Japanese onsen, this was a really big room filled with a large selection of pools in varying colors, sizes and temperatures. The water was not the sulfur water I was used to, and the people talked a lot more loudly and took more time as well, but overall it was not very different than my previous experiences.

Cool bridge on the mountain

We made it!

The difference came when my friend brought me to a series of tables where an older woman in underwear was scrubbing a customer’s back. We placed our money on the table with our locker keys so she would be able to call us and went about relaxing our sore muscles in the various baths. When it was time for the scrub, I have to admit I was a little nervous. My friend warned me that they remove several layers of the upper epidermis and that watching that much skin slide off could be a little mentally disturbing. I braced my mind and lay down to be scrubbed. Overall, the process was pretty satisfying and like C said, I felt as smooth as a baby afterwards.
The pile of skin that had accumulated was actually a little satisfying because I once heard on a discovery channel documentary that there are little microscopic bugs who eat skin flakes and now they would have a feast off my body instead of on it.Hope they enjoy it as much as I enjoyed my skin once it was gone!

Me on top of the mountain!

After the bath we tried to meet up with C’s friends but most of them were in a food coma from the Canadian thanksgiving dinner they had partaken of, so we went off just the two of us to college bar land. Being pretty exhausted, we set up at a bar she said was pretty popular and snacked on some munchies while sipping at our drinks. We ordered an appetizer of chicken and when it arrived it was so huge we laughed rather than ate it. I could not believe the waiter thought the two of us could really eat all that and allowed us to order it! At least food is cheap in Korea, though not as cheap as alcohol. I’ll tell you, overall I drank and ate too much in this country but it hardly cost me any money. Our drinks that night consisted of two big pitchers of pineapple juice mixed with shoju (Korean whiskey and practically the only liquor mixed into drinks) and cost us less than the chicken.

The next day we decided to partake of a local folk village, the remaining of which are celebrated heritage sites in Korea, and had quite the adventure there. Well, the adventure consisted of the effort it took to get there and get away. My friend had never been there and the people who recommended it to her took a car there. Thinking we could just use the bus system, we took a bus to the nearest major city and tried to find our way from there. Yeah… we ended up splurging on a taxi and then there was an awful traffic jam. We got so frustrated with the sitting that we actually asked directions to the village and got out and walked once we got to a place where the taxi could turn around. Luckily it was a little under a mile and we arrived at the folk village just in time to be greeted with a surprise. There was a food festival going on that day, as well as a parade that we had had no idea about. While that did mean some amazing food and beverages, it also meant lots of crowds. Poor C, who had been so keen on seeing the village, got her enthusiasm crushed by the lack of authentic feel and the hordes of children and couple sets (couples who wear matching outfits).

The temple at the bottom of the mountain

After a big bottle of makkali (spelling? – Korean rice liquor), we were feeling more relaxed though and while trying to find the exit and our bus stop, we stumbled upon some kids with homemade bows and arrows. I had to have one as a souvenir so when we found a little shop/stand on the side of the path, I asked how much it was and for the bargain of 5,000won (5 dollars), I bought one. C bought one too, not wanting to miss out on my fun. While we waited for the bus we decided to try them out. We failed pretty miserably – so much so that a cute, older, drunken Korean man, with his wife in tow, came over to help teach us how to shoot them. We had been holding the arrows wrong (since there were no places to nook the cheap wooden arrows) and once he taught us the proper grip, with a combination of gesturing and hitting my hand until I got it right, we could shoot the arrows half-decently.


Well after about 20mins of playing with our new weapons the bus shows up… and won’t let us on. Turns out we were standing at the wrong bus stop. We asked him where to go and he pointed across the street. So, we walked across the street… and kept walking until we stumbled upon a brick overhang that resembled a bus stop. As there was no one around, we played some word games while we waited and we got a little less anxious as people started to gather around us. One woman even gave us fresh figs (I had actually never seen a fig before and this was definitely my first time eating one fresh)… but when the bus came, we realized we had been waiting at the wrong place. It was a retirement home bus to take all the elderly back from their outing. The driver told us to walk back to the village because although we had seen buses going in, there had been no buses leaving because we were in the wrong place.

Folk village!

Seoul station... 'nough said

The sun had mostly set by the time we got back to where we started and we found a line of people waited in an unlabelled location directly across from the bus stop where we had first lined up. When we asked everyone, we were embarrassed to find this was the bus stop and after a seemingly very long wait, the bus showed up. It was a short trip back to the terminal and we found an English speaker sitting behind us so C chatted her up while I nursed my bruised pride about getting lost and various other embarrassing things I had done getting onto the bus (dropping my bow on someone’s foot, losing my arrows under some seats, etc). From the bus terminal we started on the even longer trip back to Gwangju (this line was even longer and we had to take the third bus that came in because that is how long it took to get us through the line) on which C slept most of the way and I lost myself in thought to the sound of my neighbors ipod as he snuggled up on my shoulder in sleep.

The outside of the imperial palace... closed of course

Once we had returned we were too tired to go out and simply slept the day away. I had to get up the next morning to head out to Seoul anyway, and C had to work. There is not too much I want to say about Seoul, and since this entry is already so long that is probably a good thing. I learned that Seoul is the second densest city in the entire world. There are over 25 million people shoved into this sprawling metropolis with many more who commute in and out of the city daily. It made for a lot of confusion and discomfort on my part as I found myself instantly choked by the city air and crazy taxis. I spent a lot of time in Seoul lost, in transit and/or uncomfortable. The Korean food was finally hitting my intestines, causing me a lot of discomfort and the Korean language still eluded me. I stayed in a hotel way outside of the city with my friend’s mom (long story) and on the first night (Monday night) I went out to dinner with my friends from Oita who were staying just outside of Seoul. They also helped me buy glasses, which was awesome because I had made it my purpose while in the city to get a pair since I knew Korea made them cheap. $80 glasses later (my vision is really bad so although the frames were cheap, the lenses still cost a lot and I need them thinned), we had a nice dinner of famous Korean grilled meat (calbi) and I got back to the hotel a little before midnight, much to the hotel clerks relief. He had made me promise I would come back early so he would not have to worry about me being all alone in the big city. Nice guy.

Seoul tower

Tuesday was all about sightseeing but my friend’s mom kind of took her time, plus we had to commute for over an hour, so we ended up not getting very much time at the national history museum. Then I found the royal palace where I had really wanted to go was closed so I took some pictures from the outside then decided I wanted to go shopping. I met R in the afternoon with his mom in tow and he helped me find some souvenirs, a hiking backpack and a good dinner restaurant. We also went up the Seoul tower. It was by far the best part of my trip. Unlike the Eiffel tower and the Tokyo tower, there was not so much foot traffic up there and I was able to take my time with pictures.

Flew back early the next morning, so early I almost missed my taxi, and got back to Oita safely and early enough to still make it to badminton. Well, that’s all for now. Love.

Korea, from the plane

You can see more pictures at: Nichole's Album

Better Late Than Never 5!

Biking the Shimanami Kaido しまなみ海道 - 4/22-4/24

The final bridge of the route

This is about 6 months backdated so... enjoy!

Desperately needing to get out of the funk I have been in since my guest left, I decided to hop into a bike trip with a bunch of JETs from Okayama and a few of my fellow Oita JETs. The girl I had originally planned to go with backed out the week before so it ended up being a small group (6 of us total) of JETs from Oita whom I didn’t really know. It actually worked out really well though (except for my bitching most of the first day because of genital discomfort - sorry guys!) and I have no regrets!

Up we go!

As for the trip itself - Friday night I caught a train toward Onomichi (a city in Hiroshima prefecture along the southern coast facing Shikoku) and met up with the rest of my small Oita group. We found our hotel just outside of the station and spent an hour or so relaxing until we finally passed out uneventfully. On Saturday morning, however, the fun began.

Arriving about an hour early at the meeting point, we searched the map for the bike rental place. While skimming the map, an old man approaches our group and says, “come, present, third floor.” In any other country, we probably would have been hesitant but knowing we had three strong, big, guys in our group confidently followed the fragile grandpa up the escalator. He led us into a small breakfast restaurant where he prodded us into seats and handed us menus. Motioning to his favorite meal he waits while we all order our breakfast then immediately pulls out his newspaper and begins to read. Knowing this to be a pretty universal sign that someone doesn’t want to talk, we try for a few minutes to join him in conversation then give up and begin trying to decipher amongst ourselves the reasoning behind this strange happenstance. Shortly after our meals arrived, (our mysterious benefactor had only ordered coffee) he stands up, grabs the bill, and shakes all of our hands. Then pays the bill and leaves? It was very strange but breakfast was delicious and we ended up leaving very confused but full.

Here's the gang, setting out

The rest of the group passed us on our way out of the restaurant and we followed them to the bike rental place. After waiting the hour and a half for everyone to get their bike rentals sorted out we are finally on our way. The day started out rainy and me and some of the Oita group quickly pulled ahead of the group as we followed the blue line up to the first bridge. So distracted were we by the thought of riding up a giant bridge between two islands that we actually missed our turn. That served to teach us a lesson about getting too distracted and the rest of the morning went by quickly. We were the first at the meeting point for lunch and hung out for an hour or so while we rested our legs and re-hydrated. The morning had begun a bit chilly but had quickly turned into a sunny, warm day and the chance to wash up a bit was a nice relief.

Halfway point

Once lunch had settled a bit in our tummies we set off again for the last few of the bridges. The ride was beautiful but also tiring. By the time we had gone about 60km I was beginning to feel quite sore and it was almost a relief when I got a flat tire. Until I remembered I had a road bike and no one had a bike pump... We spent an hour or so with some gas station attendants ghetto-rigging a pump once we patched the tube and finally got back on the path after watching a majority of the people in our JET group pass us by. We lucked out about 20 minutes later when we passed a group of cyclists resting at a convenience store and I could finally pump my tire up all the rest of the way.

Things were pretty uneventful after that until the final bridge (which is actually a series of three bridges connected to pass over two islands and stop off on a third). A freak rain storm rolled in and began to pelt us on the way up the bridge. I can't really describe the way the cycling route led up to the bridge since it was about 500m above the ground so you will simply have to see the picture.

Firemen!

About three quarters of the way up the twisting cycling road, we decide to take shelter under a small gazebo with a number of other rain soaked Japanese bikers. This was mere seconds before a bolt of lightning struck the lightning tower right above our heads. Needless to say, we about peed ourselves and then decided it might be a good idea to wait a little on the rain to slow down before we set out again. Of course our impatience finally got the best of us and about 10 mins later we were battling the rain and wind while we tried to cross the 3 miles of bridge ahead of us before the sun set. Shortly after we arrived at the end station to meet up with the group the rain ceased - as expected. Damn my impatience.

Stop for some local citrus

We proceeded to wait about an hour for the rest of the group to arrive at the meeting point, including our guide (turns out only about a dozen people had passed me in my tire drama - none of whom would attest to having observed my plight). Once everyone got together it was off to the ryokan and our drinking party. Not much to be said since I passed out pretty early on.

The next morning was bright and warm with only a slight wind and D, P and I took off on our own after seeing K to the train station (she would meet us at the ferry to head back to Oita since we had planned to bike down). After about 15km, however, the wind began to pick up and we found ourselves fighting to keep in a straight line on the road while not killing ourselves trying to outdo the wind. Of course what had planned to be a brisk, 80km cycle down the beautiful island of Shikoku turned into calamity as we hit another flat (this time on D's bike) and with no gas stations in sight. Luckily there had been a fire station not too far back so we walked along until we reached it and politely asked the firemen inside to help us with removing the tire from the frame so we could repair the tube. Despite all of our preparation, we were not equipped to handle a puncture from a giant nail (which turned out to be the culprit as I recall).

This might have been the most entertaining part of the journey as P and I just kind of hung back watching four firemen fighting over who could be the most helpful in solving the tire problem while they grilled us on our life stories. Sometime in the hour they were "helping" us, they admitted we were the first foreigners they had ever spoken with in their lives. I would be lying if I said this was the first time someone had said this to me. I don't even find it sad at this point but instead hope that this occurrence can continue to be reduced through the efforts of my fellow foreigners.

Freak rain storm....

Needless to say, with the wind howling at us from all sides and time lost to bike repairs, it was not much longer once we got back on the path that we decided we would need to train to the next biggest city to get lunch then decide about biking from there. Lunch at subway proved fruitful because we ran into K who had been unable to meet up with her friend and with full bellies and slightly reduced spirits we decided to give up on the rest of our bike trip and instead all train down to the ferry together. It did not appear any less beautiful from the train window and we sat in relative comfort chatting about this and that while watching vineyards and groves of fruit trees dotting mountainsides roll by.

Be careful of birds :-)

My magical Shikoku biking journey came to an end when we got on the ferry to head back to Oita and although I made little impact on the route, it made a big impact on me. 6 months later I am still thinking about those sparkling blue oceans and serene mountain-scapes. Hopefully I can back again before I finish up JET!

Love!

運動会 (Sports Day)

Sports Day Blog – 9/23/2011 and 9/25/2011

So, I know I mentioned there would be a significant increase in my blog entries lately and I still intend to fulfill on that promise, but have patience. Life has been keeping me very busy and honestly I would rather be experiencing things than stopping to write about them. :-)

View of Mt. Aso

Let's start back to the week of Sept. 19th, I need to give a bit of background update to set the stage for the rollercoaster I have been riding. The weekend was a three day weekend and one of the few I will be granted this work year. To celebrate, my old roommate from college, A, who is now doing JET in Miyazaki, planned to visit with me in Mt. Aso the biggest active volcano in Japan and located roughly halfway between the two of us. Unfortunately, the weather was against us and a typhoon hit the majority of southern and eastern Japan pelting us with strong winds, heavy rains and even some flooding. The worst of it hit Saturday evening and most of Sunday, officially drenching our travel plans, along with shutting down all public transportation.

Trying to avoid being too depressed and glad to be in each other's company after so long, we ventured out for some shopping, onsens, karaoke and dinner with friends when the weather had calmed. In the midst of all this excitement, I also stupidly forgot to cancel our fancy ryokan (traditional Japanese style inn) reservation for Sunday night. As the typhoon still spit down upon us angrily from above on and off, when the ryokan called to remind me of our reservation (at 7PM on Sunday night), I told them I was sorry but it had completely slipped my mind and that because of the obviously inclement weather I would be unable to make it down there. He insisted we come, going so far as to say murri shite kudasai (meaning roughly 'do it even though it is impossible'). After I continued to refuse, he finally requested we wire transfer half the money for the room to him the next day. It kind of made sense to me that they would ask for the money, since I had forgotten to give them advance notice of our cancellation (although the typhoon should have made it obvious) so I did not think to argue.

On Monday, the holiday, although the weather had cleared up, A and I just spent the morning sitting around, relaxing and talking.

Yes, he is walking on their backs.

She left and a few days later I got my MCAT scores. I must have known before I checked because as soon as I woke up I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that couldn't possibly be related to food. My week had already been filled with bad luck – I accidentally wired the money to the ryokan twice and the bank was unable to cancel the transaction so I had to call and ask them to refund it to me (thank goodness for Japanese friends!), not to mention that we had been unable to go to the volcano – so when I saw the results I was not really surprised. Still, despite the studying, I did not score high enough to be competitive this application cycle so I have decided to hang up the towel on applying this year and try again next year. Perhaps this will mean another year in Japan, though likely I will travel home and volunteer at a hospital while moonlighting at a department store. Sigh.

While this may sound a little like giving up (and in a way, it is) try to get a broader sense of the process. I spent about $700 just to take the test (travel fees included) and another $400 just sending out the primary application. It costs about $75 a school to complete the secondary application and the likelihood of me obtaining an interview afterward is slim to none with my scores. Thus, knowing my rejection to be fairly certain I decided to quit before I throw any more money into the process and get a confirmed rejection. As all my Japanese friends have said – “there's always next year!”

Although this may be a bit of an aside, I want to address failure in Japan as a culture phenomenon. If you did not know, to be a licensed teacher in Japan is a very time consuming and difficult process. While there are many teachers who work in the public education system, at schools everywhere, slightly more than half are actually licensed teachers. As far as I can deduce, the reason is, once teachers obtain their license, which they must renew every ten years, they have it basically until they retire. This includes the time they serve as principal, vice principal, education coordinator and in other offices (such as at the board of education office). It appears the prefectural board of education limits the number of licenses available to each subject area, though it may also be regulated on the national level by the monbushou. Either way, until a teacher retires or loses their license for some reason, the spot is unavailable to a new teacher, even if they current holder is not teaching. Thus, there are many open teaching positions and teachers-in-training to fill them, but very few licenses available.

kibasen, my favorite part of sports day

As you can gather, to actually get one of the few license spots for the year, you have to be at the top of your class, and priority is given to people who have tried and continually improved over a period of time. There is a series of tests, lectures and interviews required of each applicant and you chance of failure the first few years is almost assured. The number of spots seems to range anywhere from none-6+ in my region but the number of applicants continually increases every year. So, this relates back to me because when I failed to obtain the score I desired, everyone looked at me and said, with eyes full of understanding “it's OK, we have all been there.”

One of my closest teacher friends is 31 and still has not passed the exam, when I told him how sad I was he just said “I have spent ten more years failing than you. You can either get over it and keep trying, quit, or quit failing.” I figured after that although many of my friends have not had this setback, and although I have never failed anything before – it was just another part of growing up and having goals. If I was ever in a place to teach me that lesson, it is working in a room full of failures who fought and continue to fight against terrible odds with a patience and hope I can only dream of. So, in their honor and for so many other reasons, it is back to the books and another year.

My kid at speech contest

Back to topic, the sum of these back luck spurts and bad news threatened to ruin my birthday and when sports day rolled around on the 23rd, I may have been the only person in Yamaga not looking forward to it. But the day dawned bright and when the event began I was surrounded by oddly energetic teachers, ecstatic students and a surprising number of parents and elementary students who had become acquainted with me in one way or another. With all this positive energy I couldn’t help but be optimistic. I had asked some of the teachers the day before at rehearsal if they could give me something to do during the big day since every teacher and student had a specific job except me. Luckily... or unluckily, one of the students would be unable to attend the event and they were scheduled to shoot the pistol at the start of two events so all the teachers decided I could do it. Yay!

With an opportunity to actually participate in sports day this year (if you recall last year I debuted in various events because the students had asked me to play side by side with them), when I had previously been afraid I would be benched for the whole day, along with the aforementioned atmosphere of optimism, the day was looking bright.

Sports day slogan

My first event was shooting the gun at the start of the tug of war events, which this year were separated by grade level. Because no one knew I would be beginning the event, when I held up the gun and said “Are you ready?” most of them were momentarily stunned by the English until they broke out into a big group “yes!” Shouting “GO!” and firing the pistol all went without a hitch to begin and end the event three times (once for each grade) and I enjoyed the shock some of the later students still had when they realized I was blowing the gun for all of them.

Because I have been neglecting personal time and keeping too busy, this blog is being written late, and with the passing of time I have forgotten the order of some of the sports day events. I will sum them up though, as best I can and if you want more details, refer to last year’s post.

Getting ready to shoot the pistol

A parent/student scavenger hunt followed tug-o-war and required the teams to run through an obstacle course ending with drawing a card with a final activity and a teacher’s name written on it. When the teacher was chosen it was their job to run out and help the team complete their activity. During rehearsal they told me I would be included as well but on the day of, when every other teacher had been called except for me, I was starting to get nervous. It was not until the very last team after I had watched all the other teachers play silly games, that my name was called. Big grin on my face, I ran up and linked in for what would be my first 5-legged race.

Most of the other events were the same as the previous year except that I blew the gun for jump rope instead of jumping with the kids like last year. Otherwise most was the same. Well, except for the 2nd grade 80m dash. About a minute before the event began, my favorite teacher, Mr. M, looks at me and says the other gym teacher (a girl of 22, like me!) will be running with the kids. I immediately jumped up and said “I want to run!” Thus, I lined up with my group of girls and when it was our turn to assemble on the line for our race I was a mix of excited and nervous. The announcer called out the names of each runner and although my entry in the race was a surprise, the announcer still had time to include me in the roster. When they said “Nichole sensei” a massive cheer erupted from the students that swelled over into the spectators. I had never been very good at sports in my youth and was often the last one picked for any team, not to mention never having had people cheer for me, so when I heard the people cheering and clapping for me for the first time in my life I almost cried. Well, I probably would have if I had not been in the last lane because as soon as the cheering faded out, we were bolting to the sound of the gun. I pushed the kids pretty hard and they kept pace with me but by the end I checked my left and seeing them a little behind me, slowed to let them win. I think I still took second but as long as I was not the first to cross the finish line I was happy. It was so exhilarating – in so many more ways than I can express in this mere blog entry.

Folk dancing with the students

The rest of sports day passed in a happy blur and at the drinking party that night, everyone was in excellent spirits. The PTA president made the kanpai (cheers) speech and talked about how me and the other gym teacher running (she ran with the boys and blew them out of the water) were the most surprising and exciting events of the day and how this year’s sports day had been the best in the schools short 3 year history. He had no idea. :-)

Later that night, another PTA member taught me the phrase isseki wo tojiru which translates roughly as “to cast the first ripple in the pond.” She said our running has reminded everyone that sports day is really a “festival” more than a spectator sports and that beginning next year, everyone was going to try and make some events that the community can participate in. After the party, Mr. M and I went out for our typical after party in Kitsuki and discussed various things – mainly how we were likely siblings in a past life. I guess the happiness just kind of spilled over.

Playing catch in a teacher/PTA event

Saturday the 24th was my birthday and so I let myself sleep in until 10 then did a 14K run (yes I am still marathon training) to start the day. After a few hours of cleaning and laundry, I allowed myself to indulge that night with a few local friends and B (who I had not seen for a good while). The next morning dawned bright and beautiful – altogether too much so for my hangover and I shrugged myself out of the apartment and into work for my Sunday, elementary school sports day.

This was the extreme version of the community involvement I hope to see from Yamaga middle school next year. The neighborhood was divided into three teams based on geography and they had their own separate scoreboard! Literally half of the day was devoted to community events, including putt-putt golf and a three-sided tug of war. It was pretty cool and I probably should have participated more because they asked me to join numerous events but I was just not feeling up to it – it was a struggle just to keep myself in the vertical plane most of the day.

All these sports days led to a very long two weeks since I had two six-day work weeks in a row and the 29th was speech contest with my student so I was pulling overtime most days to help her prepare. I might still be trying to catch up on sleep and it has been a month! Well, hopefully that updates you a bit and be ready for a spew of entries!

More pictures and hopefully a video to come! Love!

Better late then never... 4

Sumo

11/27

I showed up in Fukuoka with B in tow around 11AM for the sumo tournament that was to last all day, or so we heard. Rule number one of sumo is you don’t talk about sumo - apparently even to other JETs who have never been. So of course, no one told us that the real event wouldn’t begin until around 4 that afternoon. So we entered the area to the cheers of... 10 people, maybe? Some wrestlers were sitting around the center rink while two wrestled in the middle and a crowd of about 5 people filled the stands to cheer them on. It was a little sad but then I remembered that the event had sold out of tickets so we quickly put two and two together and realized we must just be early. So we took the opportunity to snuggle up close to the rink and take a ton of pictures since there was no one around to block our view then we left the building for some more interesting events (like people watching in Fukuoka).

After a few hours of window shopping in what struck me as bearing a strong resemblance to an American outdoor mall, we returned to the sumo tournament. I wish I could tell you about everything I saw there but, honestly, the videos will have to suffice. I didn’t understand the sumo tournament or rules in the least and the people I shared seating space with talked the whole way through about this or that or the other and didn’t pay much attention to the ring. Overall, the experience could have been vastly improved had I been sitting with B and/or with people who were actually enjoying the events we all paid good money to enjoy.

Enough bitching though. I was surprised by the amount of foreigners that were present in the tournament; and I don’t just mean white people. There were a good number of Chinese and Indonesian wrestlers, who put up a valiant effort against their smaller but more agile competition. In the end, though, the Japanese won out. I am told this is a rare occurrence though. I certainly would not have guessed the smaller fluffy-looking Japanese man would win over the biggest Bulgarian man I had ever seen in my life. The Bulgarian was so buff he had abs on top of his belly fat. But apparently pure strength means little in a small salt lined ring where the slightest misstep will see you face up on top of a small, brightly colored referee. It almost happened once, actually.

But while I understood that part of the match, once they finally grabbed a hold of each other and starting trying to throw one another outside of the ring. It was the soap opera-esc drama that preceded the actually throwing that had me confused. They would arrange themselves facing each other, stare into their opponents eyes, and then touch their fists to the ground. But more often than not, one player reached the ground just a split second sooner than the other and they would both stand and walk around the ring again, throwing salt and preparing for another face off. The more advanced the players, the more of this cat and mouse game they played until it got to the point where I thought they would never begin the match.

When I consulted another teacher a few days after the match about the play-drama that preceded the wrestling he informed me that in recent years it has turned sumo into more of a joke than a sport. A mind game of wits matched with hundreds of kilos of nabe filled tummies while they spew venom through their eyes at one another. I had to agree with his assessment when I thought back to how after a few bouts of play fighting I was sick of watching at all and I quickly lost interest in the matches.

Overall though, I have no regrets about going, although you likely won’t see me at sumo again this year, and I think it is something everyone should experience. Go get your culture on, then make sure you wait a year to tell people about it! Love.