5-month Hiatus: Shenanigans.

Hello, dear readers! Alas, I have returned. I'm not vain enough to believe that you've been pining these last 5 months to read about my life, but I have received complaints from several loyalists, so I figured it was about damn time.

Why have't I updated?

This isn't a "Why is the sky blue?" type of question question, with a logical scientific answer. This is more the "Why do some people get headaches when it rains?" types, mysterious and inexplicable even to me.

It's similar to writer's block, but not for lack of words or ideas. Moreso, despite the activity of the last few months, I felt there was a certain lack of impetus, a staleness that affected other areas in my life as well.

But that's neither here nor there. And certainly not what's most important. Everyone falls off the horse at several points in life, and while most of us aren't gymnasts, we've got to jump back on. (There's a little Derek Zoo-logic for you.)

What is important, and what you've probably been waiting for, is the travels. So let's go back, back to -- yes, when was it? -- that's right...

September 2013, 阿蘇（Aso）,　大分（Oita）, and 高千穂（Takachio）

Prepare yourself. You wanted an update -- I'm giving you a full-scale report.

Last year, my traveling buddy was Monica. Though I think about her often on these trips, I couldn't let her absence inhibit me from more adventures -- not that she would want it that way.

This year, I've been traveling with two equally good friends of mine from Amakusa: Erika and Dan. Both came the same year I did, but it's only as of this year that we've really been traveling together. Erika is extremely fun to be around, and has a level of Japanese that I sincerely aspire to. She lives quite close to me, but Dan lives on an island of Amakusa that can only be accessed by ferry's, which stop running at around 4:30pm on weekdays. Work ends at 4 pm, need I say more? We only see him weekends, though he's incredibly intelligent and funny in the witty sort of way. Both of them are wonderfully kind, and traveling is never dull.

Our first true trip together was a three-day excursion over a long-weekend in Septemer. On Friday night, we hopped into my little silver hatchback Honda after work, and drove to Aso, a rural area in northeast Kumamoto Prefecture. It's most famous for its range of volcanic mountains, in particular one large and quite active caldera that is mistakenly called "Mt. Aso" (the locals get flustered about this, as there is apparently no single mountain called "Aso," yet even the Japanese tourists make this error). We stayed at a hostel called「阿蘇び心」 "Asobi gokoro," a great play on words where　「遊び」 "Asobi" means 'play,' but the characters for the "aso" part are substituted with the characters for the region's name、「阿蘇」Aso. 「心」"Kokoro" means 'heart.' It's difficult to explain, but quite a clever thing if you know Japanese. The hostel's staff is also incredibly kind, and offer you a full explanation of the area and history on your first stay, as well as recommendations on where to go. They also pick you up and drop you off at the nearby station, for free.

But I digress. It was Erika's birthday on Saturday, and neither she nor Dan had ever seen the caldera, whereas somehow I had seen it about 5 times by then. On Saturday morning, we took a leisurely stroll around the artsy countryside near our hostel, coming across a strange, bird-focused topiary, the prefecture's only colored cement artist, and a strange combination of Japanese characters burned into the side of a mountain (something like 内"in" and　牧 "breeding" -- inbreeding?). We went up to the volcano, saw it, had some ice cream, then went to have lunch -- except all the places were closed. We had inadvertently missed lunch-time, and so ended up eating a skewer of grilled meat from a street vendor before setting off, stomachs a-rumble, for our next location: Takachiho.

高千穂　Takachiho:　Land of the holy Cods?

Takachiho is in the northwest corner of Miyazaki prefecture, and borders Aso on the east. The drive was only about two hours from Aso. It was a grey day, and after a late lunch on the way, we arrived to our hotel -- a small, two-story business hotel run out of what had probably been the old man's home at one point.

As a city itself, it is nothing terribly beautiful; it's a tiny town, with unremarkable buildings, no real train, and maybe two or three convenience stores. Historically, however, it is one of the most sacred places in Japan, if not the most sacred. The gorge that we had gone to see is said to have been formed thousands of years ago, when the volcano in Aso last erupted. It's said that from there the gods pulled out the islands of Japan. However, the detailed, well-written English sign at the location made the one error, insisting that it was the hold "cods" that made Japan. Needless to say, this has become an ongoing joke amongst us.

It's long and narrow with clear and crisp blue water, flanked by dark rocks and forest. It's also incredibly close to the city itself, and packed on the weekends, so if you want to go you should plan to get there early in order to park. We had to park in the further lot and walk a long way down to the row-boat station, but it was worth the hike if only for the beautiful trails and tiny bridges. We had to wait for two hours to ride the row boat, but the wait was worth it. Somehow, with much effort on Dan's part to understand Erika's directions (it was a backwards row-boat, and we call Erika "Master Navigator" ironically, though she eventually gets us where we need to go), we managed to get in a great view with some stunning pictures to boot. 

From there, we traveled ten minutes across town to another portion of the river, next to which there is a shrine in the cave that is said to have been the hiding place of the goddess Amaterasu (the goddess of the sun) when she got into a fight with one of the other gods. Many people were visiting to pray there. We mostly took pictures, and enjoyed the thousands of rocks stacked devotedly in triads throughout the cave area.

Following that, we departed for our last location: Bungo-ono, Oita Prefecture. This place boarders both Aso and Takachiho on the north, so we were essentially triangulating. Looking at the GPS, we saw a road that seemed more direct than the main road, so we decided to take it. This was the first experience that led us to realize an important road rule in Japan: If the route has less than three numbers in its name, then you're going to be on a small, rural road. If it has one number, brace yourself!

We were on the road we endearingly call "the 7," which we invoke with a disgruntled shaking of fists if not a bit of humor every time we drive on a narrow road. "The 7" started off all right, but quickly narrowed off into a one-lane, dirt mountain road. Now, in Amakusa, there's a well of unpaved mountain roads with space for about one car and most of us have had the experience of back up slowly into the winding curb to let an oncoming car pass. "The 7", however, was special in that it was flanked on the mountainside by a giant gaijin trap (a large, uncovered space between the road and the mountain to help water run-offs in spring and rainy season and which unsuspecting foreigners often drive their cars into), and a steep cliff drop-off on the other side.

Oh, and by the way, it was rail-less.

The view was stunning, and I pride myself on my control of my car. However, the weather, which had been fabulous in Takachiho, was turning stormy. The winds soon picked up, and the clouds over the distant mountain range started to get swirly. We were spared from rain, but the leaves were starting to fly past us, and once Erika had to get out of the car to move a giant tree branch out of the road. The further we drove, the more frequent the hairpin turns became, the slower we had to drive, and the more apparent that we had to haul ass to our destination.

As much as we cursed "the 7," though, we saw two awesome waterfalls along the way, one an orange color that we're sure we'll never seen again.

As the elevation started dropping and we were entering Oita, the weather started to relax. The cliffsides gave way to more ample, forested roads, but then all we started seeing was shacks and abandoned buildings. It was almost like a horror film. Our speculations kept building exaggeratedly, until we finally reached our town, which was large and spread out for a small town, and not the least bit creepy. Our hotel was nice, and we saw not even one pachinko parlor (slot-style gambling establishments, the only kind legal in Japan it seems), though we did see an advertisement for one named "Miami."

Go figure.

We spent Sunday night uneventfully, and woke early on Monday to hit the caves we had intended to see. We were sidetracked by an hour in our search for the Totoro Bus Stop (Totoro is a famous Japanese animation for children), but we got there eventually. The caves weren't as natural as we had hoped, but were still big enough to occupy us for about 2 hours, and impressive enough to be worth the trip. For anyone interested in caves, but worried about straining oneself, this is a great place; you don't really need more than　sneakers really.

In the same park area next to the caves is a giant statue of the Buddhist god Kanon, and some other Buddhist statues. Then, there's the random throw-back replica of a Japanese street of the 1940's or '50s, including an old, glass-bottle coke vending machine (with real glass-bottle cokes you can buy!) and an old toy and paraphernalia store. Why are these three things all together in the same place, and included on the same entrance ticket?

You learn to stop asking "why" about these things in Japan after a while. The more frustrating, work-related things can be grating, but I'm willing to let these touristic oddities slide.

Anyway, from the caves we set off on our trip home, stopping only at a RANDOM, GIANT WATERFALL in the middle of the city to eat our convenience store lunch.

The drive back to Amakusa was about 4 hours, and we didn't get back until late, but the Tuesday morning exhaustion at work was well worth it.

Catching up: Cambodia

It was crowded and noisy. We were sitting on the floor at the low tables in the only room of the small Sushi restaurant that we frequent monthly for birthdays. They were set out with an array of foods -- starfish carcases piled on plates, fresh sliced fish nestled in beds of cabbage salad, cuts of succulent Japanese fried chicken, deep flavored green tea roll cakes -- the remains of an amazing feast rising out of a graveyard of used plates and wooden chopsticks.

When my friend turned to me amidst the muddle of Japanese and English and boisterous laughter, the last thing I expected was, "Do you want to go to Cambodia with me?"

Certainly, Cambodia was the last place I'd thought of going. It's hard to say I had ever considered it at all.

Living in Japan, I realized that I have much closer access to a lot of places that would be much more expensive to travel to from America. I have friends who live in Australia, South Korea and China -- plenty of other friends who have been to Thailand -- but I knew little to nothing at all about Cambodia. At best, it was some forested, rural country near Thailand, and the most I'd actually heard of it was in conjunction with Laos and "Khmer Rouge" at a time when I was much too young to understand the news.

At that moment, I realized just how little of the world I actually knew. Well, know. I mean, I know there's a lot out there, but it hadn't occurred to me how many things are out there, ya know? And a new culture, and a new language?! All for one super-duper inexpensive cheap price? OF COURSE I SAID "Yes!"


It was a short trip -- three days, perhaps the shortest trip abroad I've ever had -- but it was, hands down, one of the most rewarding trips of my life so far.

We departed early one Saturday morning in April, taking a bus from Kumamoto City to Fukuoka airport, where we took our first  5-hour leg of the trip on Vietnam Airlines. The service was surprisingly wonderful, including some delicious food and coffee, and fragrant wet towelettes. The service at the Vietnam airport, in contrast, was much less welcoming. We deplaned into the hot, humid air of the afternoon, and took a small bus to the airport. Passing through security was easy enough; we lined up with the sticky, sweaty masses, and it went quite quickly, if not pleasantly.

The atmosphere - not the weather - was stifling; guards in their army green uniforms all but yelled at an old lady as she passed through security, and the guy who took my passport glanced disinterestedly away before handing it back to me without even opening it to my picture. The airport staff wasn't much better. A small airport with two floors, the layout of the shops is oval shaped like a running track, with glass-cased kiosks lining the center ring and the large, duty-free shops the outer rim. Monica and I had a small emergency, and the store clerks were beyond unhelpful as we looked through the hodgepodge of goods -- strawberry cream Oreos next to scorpion alcohol on a shelf above small change purses crushed next to hand crafted jewelry boxes. Between the two of us, we managed to scramble up an "excuse me" in Spanish, English, Japanese and Chinese, yet the women who worked the shops wouldn't even look at us unless we were ready to pay.

The heat of the airport -- unconditioned as most in southeast Asia -- added to the uncomfortableness of the situation. Though I have never been to Cuba, I couldn't help but feel a mild sense of dread, like something wasn't right; the military security uniforms, the uncaring, almost disdainful attitude of clerks towards customers...a slight paranoia that seems to run in most Cubans, perhaps a remnant survival instinct that runs in the blood after the traumatic aftermath of the revolution, one that can't help but equate Socialism as a euphemism for Communism...

But there was no time for that. Not with a 5 hour layover and way too much time to think. We found our supplies in the last store, and begrudgingly bought it from the most uncaring clerk of them all. Then we found the only place with airconditioning: a small cafe with peeling red vinyl booths and wireless internet, and an overpriced menu.

Make it more interesting: USD is the name of the game.

In an airport in Vietnam, where you could only pay in USD. Traveling from Japan, my companions and I brought Yen of course, which we planned to exchange when we got to Cambodia. My Japanese friends had no reason to have USD, but luckily I had quite a bit left over from my initial voyage to Japan -- something I carry in my wallet just in case of emergencies. It was enough to get us in and buy us some overpriced tea and coffee. While it was pure chance that I had it, I will certainly keep some on me just in case from now on.

Cambodia and Vietnam were like night and day. We took our short flight to Siem Reap, and landed easily in a balmy, tropical night so  reminiscent of home. Again, there was no bridge connection into the airport, so we walked. The staff at the airport was polite, nice even! The tour guide, a small slip of a man, dark gold like the natives, picked us up at the airport and took us with the rest of the Japanese tourists to our hotel for an incredible evening meal. The hotel itself was beautiful; French colonial style like so many others, with a wide open lobby flanked by two large staircases, and floor-to-ceiling glass windowed dining area in the back which led to the pool. Of course, there was no time for that.

We were tired, exhausted really. The beds had us fast asleep, but not for long enough it seems. At 4 am, Monica and I woke up for the optional portion of our tour: going to watch the sunrise at Angkor Wat. The boys decided to sleep in. Balmy but cool, it was an entirely worthy view.

We reconvened at the hotel for breakfast, which was an amazing spread of tropical fruits and western/eastern style breakfast (why not try some lemon chilli pepper pork congee with that baguette, madame?). Energy restored, we set off again to Angkor Wat, where the adventure really commenced.

Angkor Wat, now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, has not been fully roped off from tourists. This allowed for climbing and exploring the ruins easily, like Indiana Jones sans the lethal snakes and death traps.

Despite the heat, I was relishing the sweat, the sun, the organic scent of the red clay dust and forest and history. It smelled pure, natural. Paired with the magnitude of Angkor Wat, the complex temples surrounding the area, stones all intricately carved by hands who knew nothing but crude tools; "exhilarating" is just the tip of the iceberg.

"Third-world country."

You heard the world in school. On the news. You've probably used it, talked about the situations in such countries, possible solutions even, in conversation with friends and coworkers. I certainly had, growing up. But the knowledge of it was nothing compared to seeing it first-hand.

Humbling. Incredibly so.

The poverty was striking. In a country where public education, while offered, is not compulsory at any level, children become the weights at the end of the heartstrings, used by parents to sell their merchandise. Promise one 5 or 6 year old girl to buy a refrigerator magnet, and immediately you'll find yourself flocked by kids trying to sell you postcards, travel books, t-shirts -- all in nearly perfect English, rehearsed, and all pleading for you to buy from them with stories. "A landmine killed my father," one boy told me as I moved to walk away. He must not have been more than 11 or 12 years old. The next day I met another 12 year old boy who was working on a river boat, pushing off and docking, and giving $1 massages in between.


As refugees, my grandparents worked day and night so that my mom and aunt could go to school to better their futures. My initial reaction was, "Where's the responsibility, the priorities of these parents? Of society?" But the more we drove into the jungle, the fewer schools I saw, the more I came to realize. Especially if you live in the rural areas, your house is a wooden shack raised on stilts. You've got one big room, maybe a back room if you're lucky. Everyone lives and sleeps together. And if you've got 6 or 7 mouths to feed (or 10, like the tour guide's siblings), you don't have time to walk your kid 4 miles or more to school; you need to use as many resources as possible to make ends meet. That might include making a pact with a travel agency, so that they can bring foreigners to see your house, how locals live, just so you can earn an extra bit of money. Our tour took us to such an area, and while it was interesting, it seemed like such an absolute invasion of privacy; the necessary evil of foreign intruders in impoverished homes, almost wrong in the casualness of it all.

Trash was the other wonder.

I'd never given much thought to trash, besides taking it out on trash day. Of course, I've seen trash on the streets in America here and there, as much as I wish people would just put it in the can. In Japan, it's virtually unheard of to litter. While in Cambodia, the poor seem to dress cleanly even if their clothes are old, both in Siem Reap (the main city) and the countryside trash was amazingly abundant on the streets. We saw people taking out trash bags at night, so there must be some kind of disposal system in place; but either the dogs or other night animals must get to it often, and the people walk past without a care. I suppose, again, when you've got more important things on your to-do list like feeding your kids and paying bills, the trash conditions of your city take a back seat. It really made me think: At what point of a country's development does strict trash disposal become a commonality?

The Kingdom of Cambodia is young yet, only about 20 years old since civil war ravaged the country and a shaky facade of stability was pieced together, slowly making progress. Now, it has reportedly the third fastest growing economy in the world, but it still has a ways to go. 

Belatedly, Kagoshima

I had completely forgotten about my trip in February. On the Friday before a long weekend, my friend Monica and I drove out to visit  Josh, a friend of mine from college who was working in Kagoshima Prefecture.

Kagoshima is in the southernmost part of Kyushu. From Amakusa, it's about a 4 hour drive. Being from Florida, it should have been a piece of cake, but somewhere between the twilight zone tunnel (someone later told me the tunnel is actually 11 km long, and that's why I was disoriented) and waiting for the car ferry at Kagoshima, I thought I was going to die of exhaustion.

Anyway, we took a car ferry from Kagoshima city to the other part of Kagoshima, where we left the car at the port and took off with Josh as our weekend chauffer.

Josh lived in Kanoya, an area about another 1 hour drive from the port. while it seems inconvenient, it's actually a wonderfully located little place. Located between Kagoshima city and Miyazaki Prefecture, it allows for lots of travel. Case in point: we went to an awesome shrine in Miyazaki on Saturday!

This shrine is in actually located INSIDE A CAVE next to the ocean. There are lucky rocks inscribed with kanji (Japanese written characters) that people attempt to toss into a hole on a giant rock in the ocean.

This shrine is also famous for having a boob rock...basically a rock that feels like/is shaped like a boob attached to the cave wall. Of course, you have to do some groping around to find it (pun intended), and when you do it doesn't really so much resemble a boob as much as, well...a rock. This could be due to the fact that tourists and worshipers have sought it out and touched it so much over the years, or that the people who found it were entirely too desperate. I can just imagine some shrine priests and disciples groping around in the dark and saying, "hey, this kinda feels like..."  They weren't celibate, but still, living in a cave...

But I digress.

It was an amazingly beautiful place, the gusts of sea breeze surrounding the shrine, protected from water by the cave. We extra lucky in that there was a special ceremony going on that day. Apparently, when a baby turns one, it's usual for people to take their child to the shrine. It was just the parents, the baby, the priest, and the priestesses who played the ceremonial music and assisted the priest (kind of like alter boys in a church). The baby was swaddled in a grand kimono bundle. Unfortunately, we didn't get any pictures, but it was indeed a sight to see!

After the shrine visit, Josh's friend was having a baby shower, so we dropped by. We were dragged into a game of "scientific fertilization pin the tail on the donkey," with sperm and ovum replacing the tail and donkey. Somehow, I won. My prize was a foam ball gun!

On Sunday, we got a late start to the day and basically did one thing: ONSEN! Except this wasn't any regular hotspring, this was Ibutsuki sand onsen! At this sand onsen, you get changed into a yukata. Then, you go behind the building to the beach, where you lay in the sand and the onsen workers use pails to cover you with hot, black sand from head to neck. After about 15 minutes, body literally pulsing from relaxation (or is it compression? That sand was heavy!), you get out of the sand and go to the actual baths, where you rinse and shower and soak (in that order).

Kyushu, like much of Japan, is highly volcanic. Kagoshima is particularly full of volcanic activity, and the geothermal activity is precisely what heats the sands at Ibutsuki. Driving into the city, we could actually SEE the steam rising from some of the water drains in the road!

Another perfect example of Kagoshima's explosive potential is Mount Sakurajima -- possibly the most active volcano in Kyushu. And by explosive, I do mean explosive! Every day, this volcano sends out plumes of an innumerable amount of ash. Unlike Mt. Aso, where you can climb to the crater and look into the caldera on days that it's not emitting too much gas, you can't climb up to look into Mt. Sakurajima.

Well, I suppose it's possible. But you'd probably die.

I was told that the lungs of people born and raised in Kagoshima are about as bad  as those of a person who has smoked for 40 years. That said, the furthest we got was a volcanic lava rock overview, where we walked around older lava formations, bought some stuff from the merchants that was covered in ash (the pineapple juice also tasted ashy), and watched in a mixture of terror and amazement as the monster belched endless black streams into the sky.

I never thought I would be so impressed by a volcano, but let me just say that there really is nothing quite like it.


Last, we ate two of the must-eats from Kagoshima: Kurobuta (quite literally black pork; the bigs are black, and DELICIOUS), and Shirokuma (meaning not literally "white bear"; it's a shaved ice treat with fruit and condensced milk. It was so cold outside, but so good! (Anabel!)

Unique End-of-winter Holidays: Girl's Day, Boy's Day

While Japan has adopted  and improvised on some Western holidays like Christmas and Valentine's day, it also has quite a unique set of its own holidays.

O-Hinamatsuri - Girl's Day

Dating back to the Heian Period (late 8th century to late 12th century), this holiday was traditionally meant to ward away the bad spirits. Originally, every year straw dolls were collected in a boat and set afloat down the river and out to see, supposedly taking the bad luck with them. Nowadays, people no longer do that. You can, however, see colorful, elaborate displays of dolls representing the empress and emperor. The most is a 7-tiered platform, with a red carpet on which the dolls are placed.

Dolls begin to be displayed around February, and are taken down on March 3rd (superstition says that taking it down after the 4th can result in late marriage for a daughter!). From my own observations, this is also a time to celebrate daughters -- just like we have a mother's day or a father's day. Several families I know celebrated the first Hinamatsuri for their babies.

My pottery teacher was in charge of his town's City Hall and had his hands quite full with the City Hall doll display. However, that did give me the opportunity to make my own (much smaller) set of dolls!

Kodomo no Hi - Children's Day

Initially, this was boy's day, but that changed when it became a National holiday in Japan. This holiday, which used to take place on the 5th day of the 5th moon of the lunar calendar (confusing!), was changed permanently to May 5th when Japan officially changed to the Gregorian calendar. To celebrate, families raise flags of carp. The movement of the flag makes it look like the carp is swimming, the symbolism which calls to a traditional Japanese fairy tale about a boy named Kintaro. Some people also display a doll of Kintaro and a miniature set of the traditional samurai helmet/regalia, traditional gifts for newborn sons. I had the opportunity to see some of these, as one of my friends' parents kept a full set of my friend's (received by friends and family when he was born) as well as my friend's father's own set. Needless to say, they took up a whole table.

Children's day also marks the beginning of summer, and heralds the return of the rainy season...believe it or not, it's Spring in Japan now!

Valentine's Day Culture in Japan

It's now April, so it's about time I try to catch up on the months. I'll start with February, as nothing particularly interesting happens in January after New Year's.

In America, February is heralded (often as soon as Christmas is out) by heart shaped signs and confections in reds and pinks. For even the most hard-hearted of folks, it is impossible to escape this holiday and the repercussions of (gasp!) forgetting to get something for a significant other.

For those not romantically involved, it's a nice opportunity to give small gifts to friends, as well as a perfect excuse to eat your weight in chocolate.

In Japan, the borrowed holiday has been adopted as a holiday for lovers. While it's become a little more popular to give chocolates to your friends, it's mostly a couples holiday. The Japanese also capitalized big on this by creating another holiday to go along with it: White Day.

So what's the difference?

Well, on Valentine's Day, women give chocolates to the men (or special man) in their lives. Mothers will usually give some to their sons as well, as a show of affection. Handmade chocolates are particularly impressive, and -- when well-done -- coveted. Boys at school often joke eagerly about who will receive the most chocolates (even though they're not allowed to give them or receive them at school!)

White day, in turn, takes place on March 14th. This is the time when people reciprocate for the gifts they've received, usually with white chocolate in return. If you really know your gifter, you'll get them what they actually liked.

While I enjoyed the displays, I definitely didn't let Japanese conventions stop me this year. I made chocolates for my female coworkers, and my direct male boss as well (some people call this last one giri or obligation chocolate, but he's a really awesome boss!). As a result, I cashed in pretty well on White day!

New Year's Part II

Monthly installment, as usual. I keep saying I'll get better at this, but I suppose we'll have to wait and see if that's true.

In any case...

IN THE LAST EPISODE:

Lauren ventured out by train, braving neatly dressed women, crying children, and suit-clad sexual harassers, and arrived in the concrete jungle of Osaka, Japan. After serving justice on a side street, she proceeded to Nara, where she battled with the Holy Deer. With the blessings of the Giant Buddha, the deer were stripped of their horns -- and there was much rejoicing as peace once again reigned in the Kansai region of Japan...

AS THE STORY CONTINUES...

The night that we returned from Nara was relatively uneventful. I went to the central shopping streets to meet up with my friends from Amakusa -- coincidentally ALSO in Osaka for new year's -- and ate dinner there. As I was on my way to the train, I stopped in at a random bar. It was tiny, but classy. There was a 500 yen cover charge, but once I was in, I figured I may as well stay. I nursed one drink -- a Cuba Libre, which happens to be my drink of choice as of late -- and proceeded to chat up the bartender. There were only about 3 other people at the bar, but they were a group that seemed uninterested in my foreignness. I didn't mind at all.

As I went to leave, the bartender smiled at me and told me the drink was on the house. Turns out he was just a lonely man with poor social skills. That was, quite literally, the reason why he opened the bar in the first place, he confessed. As a child, he couldn't really talk to people because he was always nervous, and he wanted to create a place where others could converse and gather. I think he was happy that someone tried to hold a conversation with him despite his reserved appearance. So next time you go to a bar, talk to that surly bar tender. He may just need a friend!

December 30th

Anyway, the next day was a complete wash-out -- it rained ALL DAY. Since there's not much except for shopping during the day in Osaka, I decided I may as well spend the rainy day in Kobe. I caught an early afternoon train to Kobe, which is only about 30 minutes from Osaka. Regrettably, I couldn't really see much of the city, but it seems like a beautiful place.


Kobe is famous for sake, among other things. There are several breweries in an area of Kobe that have been making sake for generations, and most of them offer tours and free sake tastings. I decided "Why not? That's what trains are for!" I went to Kikomasamune, a brewery that has a small museum displaying the items that they use to make sake, and a really helpful English video explaining the process. The method used by Kikomasamune today is the same as it was a long time ago, with the exception of a few more machines. The biggest point, from what I understood, is that they even let the rice create it's own lactic acid, as opposed to introducing foreign lactic acid. Consequently, it takes a lot longer for the sake to be done (about 20-something days for one batch), but the results are worth it. The free sake had a really delicious, clean taste, and I ended up buying Umeshu, which is an alcoholic spirit made from plums. It's sweeter than sake, and I personally like it better.

December 31st

 On the day of the 31st, I went to Sumiyoshi Shrine in the early morning. "Great, another shrine," you may think to yourself with waning enthusiasm. "What's so special about it?" you ask. Don't knock it, I tell you. What distinguishes Sumiyoshi Shrine from the rest is its age: estimates date it back to around 200 A.D.  As it predates the influx of Chinese culture into Japan, it can be said that Sumiyoshi shrine is an authentically Japanese shrine, its architecture untouched by the influence of the mainland. If you go to any other shrines, and then see Sumiyoshi, you can understand.  There are six or so individual shrines on the complex, neatly side-by-side. In particular, the crossed beams are of interest. The tapered tips of most of the buildings indicate the shrine of a male deity, while the horizontal cut of one set of beams indicates the shrine of the only female deity at Sumiyoshi.

There are also three bridges that lead to the entrance of the shrine grounds, round in shape, which is also rare. It's said that you cross the central bridge for good luck.



But back to the story. It just so happens that as I got near the shrine, I couldn't find the entrance. A nice woman with a cute baby hanging in a sling from her front immediately offered help, and we walked around the shrine together. It turned out that her father was the head priest of the shrine, and that it had been in her family for generations! Completely unexpected and welcome surprise, convincing me that for the most part, Osaka people are great.

After the shrine, I returned to my hostel where an old college friend of mine from Osaka came to pick me up. I took him around in the States when he was studying English, so he was my tour-guide for the afternoon! We drove to Arashiyama in Kyoto (about 40 minutes from Osaka). Arashiyama ("Storm Mountain") is a beautiful area of Kyoto. There are still some shrines, but they're more natural, slightly removed from the more touristy albeit stunning shrines. As we descended from the car, he turned to me with a serious expression and said, "Today, we're going to eat a lot." I was confused, but he made sure of his promise. While we walked through the forested area, he proceeded to stop me every 15 minutes or so to eat at some randomly placed stall or restaurant, and thus we ate many small, delicious foods...

Arashiyama - the Bamboo Forest

Hot Tofu...
  




Zenzai: a hot, sweet red-bean soup with pieces of mochi (a sweet, soft, sticky ball made from rice flour).





Beef Croquettes (Somehow, they're crispier here...)

My friend Ryuto, posing with the croquettes and his man-purse

Kushikatsu: Literally "stick fry." Osaka is pretty famous for this food as well. There is no documented evidence, since it was consumed too quickly.

As if that weren't enough, as we drove back into Osaka, it struck him that we hadn't eaten Takoyaki, an Osaka staple. Before I knew it, were were parked on a side street just off of a main Osaka thoroughfare, eating mouth-scorching doughy balls filled with octopus in his car.

Nighttime drive through Osaka

Had it not been New Year's I would have been ready to throw in the towel and call it a successful day. However, the adventure was not over yet! After being dropped off, I met up with my OTHER awesome college friend. We went to a bar to drink for a while and catch up. The bar, called Lapichu, is co-run by a Japanese man and his Colombian employee. The atmosphere is really fun, and they serve pretty much anything, as well as hookah. My friend and I had planned to catch a train to Tennoji Temple (where my other friends were meeting) for the countdown, but we were so absorbed in talking that we almost missed the 11:30 train! By some miracle, we made it. However, the temple was crowded with people coming to pray before the new year. In looking for my friends, we lost track of time (again!) and barely caught the last 5 minutes of the countdown.

Tennoji Temple

Tennoji with my friend Satoshi

I then proceeded to wait in line for an hour with my friends to ring the bell. In Japan, it's tradition to ring a shrine bell at new years for luck. It was freezing, below 0 degrees celcius, but we somehow managed to stay alive by playing Shiritori, a Japanese word game where the next word begins with the last syllable of the previous word. Just don't use a word that ends in "n," because then you lose!

NEW YEAR'S DAY

On New Year's day, my friends were dead tired. So, like the travel trooper my mother raised me to be, I set off on my own for Sumiyoshi Shrine once again. THAT again! Yes, that same shrine. Why? Hatsumode. Hatsumode is another New Year's Tradition in Japan. From around January 1 to January 6, people visit shrines to pray for luck and whatnot in the new year. The previous day, I saw what seemed suspiciously like booths being prepared. I was completely unprepared for the mass of people that came to Sumiyoshi, slowly trudging through the crowds to cross the lucky bridge and toss 5 yen coins into the prayer box (5 is supposedly lucky because it's got a hole in the center, representing eternity and continuity, etc.)

Over the Bridge

Omikuji - tied to a fence to dispel the bad luck foretold by the fortune

It's the Year of the Snake! Wishes written and tied on wooden plaques

Goldfish Scooping! A traditional Japanese game for festivals

Dragon Dance outside the shrine gates

The morning was cold and crisp, and the sunshine was glinting off of the red-orange Tori gates. On the small road leading up to the bridges in front of the shrine, maybe a hundred vendors had set up booths, selling games, stuffed animals, but mostly FOOD. I grabbed my breakfast there -- an interesting "Chinese style" okonomiyaki (at least according to the vendor) and a hot cream Tayaki (a sweet bread in the shape of a fish, traditionally filled with sweet red-bean paste, but now also with chocolate, cream and caramel).

Vendor street food!

Breakfast I: mini-"Chinese" Okonomiyaki

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breakfast II: Cream-filled Taiyaki - perfect on a cold day!

 

Sea-shells, anyone?

Somehow, I was able to call my sister and tell her that the world hadn't ended in the future, although that transmission was short-lived due to the crappy application I was using. After a nice lunch with a Korean girl and a Japanese girl who I met at the hostel, I took a nap and rearranged my things, then set off for the airport in the evening. I had an early flight the next morning, and since my airline had a strict early policy, the owner of the guest house suggested that I sleep at the Manga Cafe in the airport (In Japan, "comic book" cafes offer lockable cubicles and rooms with couches that you can rent by the hour. If you're ever traveling and find yourself without a hotel in the middle of the night, a "Manga Kisa" is your best bet!)

DISCLAIMER: No pictures for the rest, since I was too exhausted to take them from this point in the story.

My flight was in a different terminal, which was in a completely different building than the cafe. While I intended to go back to the manga cafe after checking out my terminal and eating, I was so tired that I didn't feel like catching the bus back. I settled near some of the other waiting passengers, and tried to sleep in the terminal like them...with the music blasting from the cafe behind us. I arrived at around 9 pm, and my flight the next day was at 7 am... needless to say I passed out as soon as the plane took off! Best hour of my life -__-

January 2nd

The plane landed in Fukuoka, where I had to wait get my reimbursement for the ill-fated flight to Tokyo. About to die from sleep deprivation, I  managed to drag myself and my luggage to the Shinkansen and train back to Kumamoto city, where I caught the bus to Amakusa. My amazing supervisor from the board of education picked me up at the station and drove me home. Total travel time? Let me not even mention it, since it makes me sad.

All in all, my trip to Osaka was an amazing experience. I saw so many things that I hadn't thought to see, and the coolest part was seeing the things I had studied in school up close. There are no words to describe the value of personal experience over textbook/second-hand learning. That's why I encourage you to go anywhere you've had even a remote interest about.  I promise, even if it falls short of your expectations, you're bound to experience something incredible along the way!

New Year's in Osaka

Upon request from high authority, I have decided to update my blog. This will, as usual, be a (late) recounting of my adventures during vacation.

This past winter holiday, I made plans to split and travel. December 24th happened to be a national holiday, but Christmas day was a work day (go-figure). I had planned to take off on the 26th and go to Tokyo for a few days before rendezvousing in Osaka with some friends, but a cold struck me down on Christmas day. Thus, I canceled my trip to Tokyo. However, by Friday I was right as rain again, and set out to meet my friends in Osaka. I stayed at Tennoji Guest House, a wonderful hostel near Tennoji Station, with my friend Raquel. Entrance is restricted by electronic code at the gate, and everything was exceptionally clean. The host was exceptionally wonderful, and I would recommend it to anyone staying in Osaka.

I arrived early Friday evening, and went down the street to get dinner with Raquel. As we were reading a menu on the street, where there was no one but us and a bus boy across the street, a man turned down the street. As he passed us, he lightly smacked my butt...and got a terrible surprise when I yelled at him in loud, angry Japanese. He fled pretty quickly. The bus boy was frozen in shock. Needless to say, I think he'll reconsider inappropriately touching a foreigner the next time.

The next morning, previous ire forgotten, we set out early for Nara. Nara was once the capital of Japan from 710 to 784. As such, you can imagine that the history there is very rich. Like it's more famous sister city, Kyoto (also once the capital), it has lots of temples. However, unlike Kyoto, it is not a huge city - there's something quaint, something more natural about the way that the old coexists with the new in Nara. Maybe it's all the deer running rampant everywhere.

That's right, I didn't mention the deer yet, did I? They are, perhaps, what Nara is most famous for. And when I say they're everywhere, they are quite literally EVERYWHERE. Though there is a park that they are known to frequent, it's not strange to see them hanging around temples and shrines.

You can buy "Shika-senbei" or "Deer Crackers" and feed them - a MUST if you go to Nara. But BEWARE! These deer are fearless! The babies are still wary, but the older ones know food the second they see it, and they're not patient, either. I thought my Japanese Culture teacher was exaggerating when he said this, but they really DO beat you up with their horns! Which is why, once a year, the Deer are herded and their horns removed so that they can't harm people. When you don't have food, however, they're pretty tame. Raquel and I got to pet some even!

Another thing that Nara is famous for is Todai-ji Temple, which has a giant (and I mean GIANT) Buddha inside. It's a beautiful area, surrounded by nature and deer.  Todai-ji houses the World's largest bronze statue of the Buddha. The detail to the piece is amazing, but unfortunately I couldn't catch it all on camera.

Entrance to Todaiji Temple Grounds

Todaiji Main Complex

"Daibutsuden" ("Great Buddha Hall")

  After Todai-ji, we walked to Kasuga Taisha Shrine, a Shinto shrine located (relatively) nearby. The morning, though cold, was pleasant and crisp, and the morning sunlight bathed the city with a warm glow that can only really be seen in winter. It made for a lovely walk. Kasuga Shrine, established in 768 AD, is famous for its many bronze and stone lanterns.

At Shinto Shrines, you can buy things called "omikuji," which are fortunes. You shake a box and pull out a stick with a number, and one of the shrine priests/priestesses gives you the corresponding fortune printed on a paper. The fortunes cover all aspects of life, including wealth, marriage, childbirth, work, living, and love. Kasuga Shrine has the added advantage of selling Omikuji in English! Whether you believe in the accuracy of these aside (I don't), it's a fun and interesting experience.

Raquel, buying Omikuji!

We also went to Kofuku-ji, a temple with a large pagoda seemingly in the middle of the city.

Finally, we went to see the Kofun, which I really wanted to see. There are a few of these - key-hole shaped islands on which the kings of old were burried. Of course, it didn't occur to me that you can only really see the shape from the sky... >.<

(THE REST IS YET TO COME!)