Late September

Two Monday photos:

One of a dragonfly who alighted on my cap and stayed there for about 30 minutes as I sat on a sunny bank and watched the local district JHS tennis tournament. Remained perched even when I got up and moved to watch a match on a different court.



The second is a shot of a large, soon to be harvested rice field that I took from my car. The shinkansen/bullet train tracks are in the background.

秋分の日

An absolutely incredible day yesterday on the Autumnal Equinox. Mark (from Northern Ireland) and I joined Kieran (a Scot), John (an Englishman) and Yamauchi-san (Japanese) for an exhilirating day of international wakeboarding in Matsushima (Pine Islands), supposedly one of the three most beautiful places in Japan.

It was my first time wakeboarding, though I have been waterskiing several times before. Fortunately the movement is very similar to snowboarding, so I picked it up quickly. Before long, I was attempting jumps and failing miserably trying to land them. Water hurts much less than hard-packed snow. However, I must have used some new/out-of-shape muscles, because today my upper body feels like it got run over by a firetruck. Everything hurts, even after taking 800mg of Advil.



We had beautiful weather, especially in the afternoon when the wind died and the sea became quite calm. The islands of Matsushima (several hundred of them) looked quite brilliant in the afternoon sun. If the photos look blurry, its because we were going so fast!

I was exhausted on the train+car journey home, but stayed awake to peer out the windows and enjoy the fine fall afternoon. I love this time of year here, as the rice turns from lush green to golden, and the harvest looks heavy in the paddies.

Fuji, Day Two

At a little past 3:00 a.m. we are roused from sleep by the quiet bustle of others getting ready for the final ascent. We slip into our thermal underwear and strap on our headlamps, in a manner much more "genki" than one would expect, considering the hour and the temperature.

Outside the hut, we fall in line behind the dozens of other pilgrims, all taking the first steps of what we are told will be a 2 hour climb to the top.


Many of the hikers are in large groups, all following their respective leaders who are wearing flashing red beacons on their backpacks. Looking up the dark mountain, a zig-zag trail of flashlights illuminates the switchback trail. The slow pace of the single file line quickly becomes tedious however, and being gaijin, we have no problems stepping out of line, then scrambling by the band of hikers (many of whom are sucking oxygen from aerosol cans), and huffing and wheezing our way to the front. The string of headlights looks much prettier from above than below.

At just before 5 a.m., we arrive at the top, after just an hour and twenty minutes of climbing. A few small groups of hikers have already made it, and are now setting up tripods or huddling by a wall to get out of the wind. Within minutes of our arrival, a thin sliver of bright red light appears on the horizon, and then disperses into paler shades on the dawn clouds.



We are denied a view of a red sphere sun rising into the sky as I had hoped, and yet the dawn is still spectacular. I've never seen so many cloud formations, nor seen them so far below me. The "unkai" does indeed look like an ocean of clouds. Most of the land is covered by a white blanket, though a few other mountain tops poke through like toes at the end of the bed. We take the requisite photos and chat with some other climbers, including some of Mark's countrymen who also want to pose with the Irish tri-color he brought along.




It takes us about an hour to walk around the crater, which, were it not for the many building scraps (?) lying about and the blue sky above us, would look like the surface of another planet (or so I imagine). Walking even the slightest incline, is taxing; we have to stop for a breather after every couple steps.



After completing the circumfrence, we breakfast on our final rice balls, generic Pringles, and chocolate, desperately wishing we had filled up our thermos with something hot before setting off. A cup of coffee would have been lovely...Yet the views more than make up for the lack of hot beverage and after a last long look, we gather our things and begin our descent.







The walk down is hard on the knees but otherwise easy as the air becomes thicker and our breathing more effortless. The views are more gorgeous than the previous day--Fuji's color against the blue sky and white clouds is striking. I tune out/in with my iPod for awhile, enjoying some shamisen music and the fine day we are so fortunate to have.






Less than three hours after leaving the summit, we are back at 5th station, and treat ourselves to an icecream and a bowl of ramen before passing out in the sun on the stone courtyard outside the shops/restaurants.

An email later in the week from a friend will say "You can now look at those snow-capped Fuji postcards, and feel a sense of complete domination of the mountain." Yeah, something like that.

Wakari-yasui

In my kanji study today, I came across the character 怒, (okoru) meaning "to get angry". To remember kanji, it is often helpful to break them into their seperate parts. Breaking okoru into its three parts, you see the kanji characters for "woman", "mind/heart", and "again".

There is also a saying in Japanese that goes something like "A woman's mind is like the autumn weather".

No doubt a man came up with both of these, but there seems to be a general feeling that women are fickle!

Fuji, Day One

My friend Mark and I took advantage of the recent long weekend (Monday was "Respect for the Aged Day") to make our assault on Mt. Fuji, affectionately known in Japan as Fuji-san. The climbing season is officially closed, though it is possible to summit year-round if you have the gear and the gumption. September is an opportune time to make the climb actually, as most of the crowds (600,000 a year) are gone and the weather is still quite good (or maybe we just lucked out). We set off Saturday afternoon from 5th Station, where the road stops and the trailhead begins. 5th Station is as high as many folks go, unfortunate as it is merely a collection of over-priced restaurants, over-priced souvenir shops, and rather poor views of the great mountain. After stocking up on some riceballs and $2 Snickers, we began our walk.

After leaving 5th Station, it doesnt take long to get above the tree line. The lush green of Japan soon turns into the gray, brown, and red rock of Fuji's cone.




The trail is ugly at times, especially as the afternoon sun disappeared behind the mountain and the light faded. Yet, when turn your back on the mountain and take a look a the 雲海　(unkai/cloud sea) below, you realize what a spectacular place it is.



It took us just over three hours to reach the 8th station, arriving just after dark as a cold mist was enveloping the mountain. The ascent was by no means easy, the terrain was often steep and rocky, or covered in loose gravel. Yet, we were some of the fastest climbers on the mountain, leapfrogging the few bottlenecks we encountered,



and half-competing with a group of four young Frenchmen who were hiking in jeans and suede loafers.

By the 7th station, I noticed a considerable difference in the air. We luckily didn't suffer any affects from the altitude, save for becoming easily winded. Our climbing strategy of walking fast and breaking often, was much different than the trudginly slow, but steady pace of most of the Japanese.



Reaching the 8th station as the temperature dropped and the winded picked up, we checked into a warm hut/bunkhouse, paid our $55, and were given a couple of futons/spots on a large bunkbed. We had hoped to chat a bit with the others in the hut, but it seemed a rather unsocial crowd so we ate our onigiri, chips, and chocolate quietly, and had a few nips of brandy to keep the chill off. Not quite full, I paid an exorbitant $5 for a instant cup noodle, but did so with little complaint as it was hot and delicious. Retired to our bunk-futons early to rest for the early morning ahead of us...

Below, a few more photos from the afternoon's ascent above the clouds:

Canyoning

No time to write much, but here are a few photos from my trip last weekend down to Gunma prefecture. Spent all day Saturday canyoning with about 25 other JETs and a few guides. For the uninitiated, canyoning is "having fun in canyons", to put it simply. Lots of jumping and sliding from waterfalls (as high as 20 meters), as well as wee bit of climbing, some river walking, and a whole lot of yelling and screaming. The water temp was in the 40s, hence the wetsuits.

Thank you a gazillion.

Yesterday afternoon I walked into town to say hello to the Oikawa family, and repay their many kindnesses of last week (dinner, lunch, and more invitations) with a loaf of fresh-baked bread. I quickly found myself further in debt, as within minutes of entering their shop/home, I was given an assortment of beverages, two presents (one, a beautiful laquer bowl/platter made by the father), and a small album with several photos from the festival I attended with them several weeks ago.

After an hour of chatting, and playing with the 4yr-old grand daughter, they insisted I join them for dinner again, though this time we went out to a local yakiniku restaurant called "8 trillion". Upon inquiry of the reason of the moniker, I was told it was the proprietor's middle name and that, apparently, the parents felt the son would become very rich if they dubbed him a really big number. Before you think them greedy, realize thats only about 70 billion in American dollars.

Anyway, we had a lovely meal. In between bites of grilled beef, rice, scallops, pigs' feet (the father's 2nd favorite food), some kind of spicy tripe, and sips of beer and a strangely delicious yogurt-sake of sorts from Korea, the father told me of his love for classic American movies and his fond memories of going to the cinema as a young man. I know very little of American classics, but upon mention of For Whom the Bell Tolls (which I've enjoyed twice), his eyes lit up and he said "Ahhh, Gehri Coopah!....Ingurido Bahguman!...great!" He, too, had seen it several times.

Over the course of the meal, I was extended even more invitations to dine, visit, go to onsen and festivals together, etc. At the end of the evening they dropped me off at home and after several bows and many thanks and a few "I had a splendid time", the father just said "We will have even more fun the next time" and bid me goodnight.

Oh, almost forgot to mention, the father finally settled on a character for the final kanji of my name. He drew it for me, and explained its meaning as "boy". "Thoroughbred boy" I said to myself, rather liking the youthfulness of it. However, I later looked it up in the dictionary and the character actually means "baby/infant". I think I'd rather stick with just Thoroughbred.

Step up

I have been devoting the majority of my free periods at work to Japanese study the past two weeks, thus the lack of recent posts. Signed up (and paid $60) to take the the Japanese Language Proficiency Test (3rd level) in December. No idea if I can pass the thing, but if I do I will have the equivalent of an elementary school reading, writing, and grammar comprehension level.

Below, some pics of a beautiful hike I did with my friend Mark last Sunday, to the top of Kurikoma-san, the highest mountain in Miyagi prefecture (I think). A warm-up for what we hope is a late-season assault on Fuji-san in two weeks, assuming the weather holds and that we can figure out the buses from Tokyo to the trailhead.

Snakes in the Teacher Room

Yesterday after lunch, the janitor gave me a piece of grilled "mamushi", a poisonous Japanese snake. Though bony, it does indeed, taste like chicken. The other teachers wouldn't try it, but swore that I would feel a "power up" (from the trace of poison). It must not have effect on gaijin, because I was incredibly lazy all afternoon and evening.