Northern Japan #2: Hakodate, Hokkaido

Late August 2009

(Saturday evening, Sunday)

Character. The word sprang unbidden to my head. Hakodate has character.



Bright cutesy cartoons of sea life splashed the faded shops of the Asa-ichi, the morning fish market. Although it was evening, a few men and women still hawked their wares: whole crabs in crates of ice, stacks of corn, and green overpriced melons. In front of one shop, a small white rowboat was being used as a tank—for crabs, I assumed. But when I looked inside—zip, zip, zip—sleek purple squids skimmed the surface of the water.



Other places sold food—rice bowls topped with pieces of shredded white crab meat, glowing red fish eggs, or amorphous orange sea urchin blobs. One clever dish used somen noodles to form the body of a squid, strips of sashimi for tentacles, and real fish eyeballs for …well… the eyes. It was barely five, but people were already standing outside and holding out dinner menus.



“Irasshaimase. Iikaga desho.”
“Won’t you come in? It’s good.”



But when I say that Hakodate had character, I don’t just mean the fish market. At the Hakodate JR Station, artistic statues intersected with huge souvenir shops, an open bay with the skyscrapers of downtown. A mural on the side of a department store depicted gray towers and white church steeples, painted in an old-fashioned style that for some reason reminded me of the 1950s. “Welcome to Hakodate,” it said. Just below the mural—or was it part of it?—sat a small picture of a beer bottle and the words “Sapporo Soft.”

Character. I can’t describe it any other way.



Sunday morning greeted me with a sharp, piercing earache. I stuffed my left ear with cotton, but it throbbed every time I swallowed a piece of my chocolate-swirled melon bread. As the day went on—and I kept sucking on Halls throat drops—the pain eased. But it never entirely went away.




I walked the fort of Goryo-kaku first thing in the morning. Across a bridge, up a mound of earth, to a museum showing cannons from a battle. But try as I may, I could not make out the famous star shape of the fort. It wasn’t until I took the elevator to the top floor of Goryo-kaku Tower and saw the fort from a bird’s eye view that I understood. The sudden bend in the road I walked—that was the arrow-head point of the star jutting out.



But I am a girl of strange taste. I did not marvel for long at the breath-taking view of the city below for the top floor of Goryo-kaku Tower also featured several lovingly crafted miniatures acting out the history of the fort. That and an English pamphlet held me completely entranced.



Many ships of the rebel army had already capsized in the rough waves of October, but those that survived pulled onto the shore. Among them was Hijikata Toshizo, “demon of the Shinsengumi” and now the military leader of the struggling group of soldiers. They attacked Goryo-kaku fort and took it as their own. Those few that resisted the Meiji government built the Republic of Ezo in December of 1868. But by spring of 1869, the Imperial army had come.



Hijikata knew death was approaching. “I am not going to battle to win. …I will fight the best battle of my life to die for the country.” The detailed miniature shows him astride his horse, sword drawn, mouth open in mid-yell. He was shot down dead.



Nowadays, the gift shops at the bottom of the tower sell key chains, towels, and file folders with his image plastered on. There are also a couple of Hijikata statues floating around. I induced a lady wearing eccentric clothing to take my picture with one such statue. Then I selfishly talked her ear off for a good twenty minutes about Hijikata, the Shinsengumi, the Bakumatsu, and Japanese history in general. She was a good sport; she even gave me her address.



In the shadow of Hijikata is a lesser known statue: Enomoto Takeaki—the president of the Republic of Ezo, perhaps the only president in all Japan. After he surrendered in May 1869, he went on to serve in the Meiji government as ambassador, among other positions. I didn’t know much about him at the time, so I didn’t pose for a picture near his statue. But later, when I checked my Wikipedia sources and learned about his life, I grew to respect him. By not dying, by serving the government that defeated him, he actually helped create the Japan we know today. And in my heart of hearts, I admire that more than all the myth and hoopla over Hijikata.



It was now about 11:00, and I decided to eat lunch. Fortunately, just down the road sat Lucky Pierrot, a quirky little hamburger restaurant decorated with a giant clown head and religious paintings from the Italian Renaissance. I ate the #1 popular Chinese Chicken burger. It was delicious. Not in a fine dining sort of way, but cheap, good, and fun. The tourists besides me took pictures of their meals. Apparently, this Hakodate chain was an attraction in and of itself.



After a brief visit to the sight of Hijikata’s last stand, I rode the tram to the old Motomachi district. Black lampposts climbed the hill. A statue of a boy stood near a ship’s steering wheel and looked down, down to the bay below. A bronze lady in a puff-sleeved dress and flowered hat sat in neat squares of red and white flowers. At the top of the hill a yellow-trimmed Victorian house stood and bushes of violet Hydrangeas gathered near four copper men. To the right lay a green field and a solitary statue of Commodore Matthew Perry. To the left, a white colonial building with a blue doorframe and blue windowsills. The old British Consulate.



I had tea at the British Consulate. The lady working there brought me a steaming tea pot and cake with fresh cream and rose syrup. While waiting for the tea to brew, I read over the museum information. The Consulate was established to look after the needs of British citizens abroad, but under the guidance of Consul Eusden, it evolved into a place of international cooperation and exchange. I strained the leaves from my tea pot and took a bite of my cake. The syrup was delicious. I could taste the texture of the petals, yet it was sweet.



I spent the afternoon walking idly from museum to museum in the Motomachi district. The Canemori general store had been turned into the Museum of Local History, and it had old bottles of beer and cans of venison. I tried to talk history with the men inside, but I couldn’t for the life of me fathom they were saying. I visited the Museum of Northern Peoples and then walked along the bay, snapping photos of statues near the waterfront.



For dinner I ate curry soup—a specialty of Hokkaido. My order was a coconut, seafood curry. A little spicy, it reminded me of Thai or Indian curry. I liked the oysters and eggplant especially. The sun began to set. I crossed a bridge near the old Mori warehouses, brick, turned into stores now. Boats rested in the bay and jellyfish bobbed in the water. I caught part of the Sai World Music and Dance Festival. An Indian man sang beautifully, and a French group of dancers made me laugh.



At the end of the day, my ear still hurt. I had acquired a headache around midday and it lingered long into the evening. But something had changed. It was 8:00 and I didn’t feel the least bit tired; walking back to my hotel, I smiled and hummed music from the festival. For the first time on my vacation, I really had fun. My lethargy faded; little by little, I was beginning to feel healthy again.

Northern Japan #1: Sapporo, Hokkaido

Late August 2009

Friday evening and Saturday morning



If you imagine the island of Hokkaido to be an uchiwa fan (not a folding fan, but the kind with a big circle of paper on a stick), then Sapporo would be where the wood and the paper meet. It’s almost in the center of Hokkaido. Within the city, I didn’t notice any hills or rivers, which are typical features in Japan. In fact, when I got out of the train stations, I wondered if I was in Japan at all.



The city seemed too… spacious… to be Japanese. I could see the blue sky peeking out in patches between the skyscrapers. For some reason this reminded me of LA, but not quite LA. The streets were lined with leafy green trees and statues were spattered here and there. In the front of the station sat red-bricked vine-covered department stores, which alluded to Hokkaido’s Meiji past.



Saturday morning the weather was very fine, nice and cool, and I could wear a light sweater without feeling warm. But I was still a little flushed from my stress sickness, so I kept my sweater off. In keeping with my “relax” motto, I didn’t go very far: just a ten minute walk to the Former Hokkaido Government Office Building and another ten minutes after that to the Botanic Garden of Hokkaido University.



Hokkaido’s history, as an important island of Japan, didn’t really begin until the Meiji Restoration, that is, the late 1800s and early 1900s, when Japan was rapidly making itself into a modern nation. That was the reason for so many red-bricked buildings in Sapporo, including the Former Government Office. It was a large, stately building, and looked more European than Japanese.



Inside were a free museum and several paintings by local artists. As I looked at the artifacts—a black and white unsmiling photograph of children near their new school, advertisements of fish sketched in colored pencil—it occurred to me that Hokkaido was a lot like the American west. Around the time, American settlers were crossing the prairie by train and fighting in the Cowboy-Indian Wars, people from poor fishing villages in Japan were urged to “immigrate” to Hokkaido with the promise of cheap land and new opportunities. Even in the paintings, I could see a physical resemblance: the vast blue skies, the wide yellow plains punctuated by dark mountains, people on horses, people who would tame this new land, but looking somehow small and insignificant compared to the rolling landscape.



In fact, Hokkaido even has its own “Native Americans,” a group of hunter-gatherers called the Ainu, who flourished in Hokkaido long ago. In the Botanical Garden, there was a museum of Ainu artifacts, such as a seal skin jacket and intricately carved rice paddles. I watched a video of a sacred ritual involving a bear in a cage (poor bear) and admired the altars of woven grass. But what impressed me the most (and not in a good way) was a kind of smelly plant they hung near their houses to ward off demons. I believed it could ward off demons; in the stuffy museum, the scent nearly overwhelmed me.



The museums (there were several) in the Botanical Garden were nice, but the actual plants didn’t impress me. In the middle of summer, it was nice and green but there were no flowers. With one exception. On my way to a sadly withered rose garden, I stumbled upon a patch of Hydrangeas in full bloom. Vibrant blue and rich purple blossoms, clothed in alternating shadow and sunlight. Beautiful.



In Japan, Hokkaido means food: ramen, beer, milk and dairy products, fresh caramels, melons, corn, potatoes, asparagus, crab, sea urchin, squid, strawberries, sausage, and probably a few other products I’m forgetting. I had planned to eat my way through. The famous Sapporo ramen was all right, but I really enjoyed the “beer hall” tofu.



Slices of white tofu were garnished with sauce, chopped sausage, and chopped cheese. I don’t know if the sauce had beer in it or not—maybe. In the beginning I thought it tasted strange, but the more I ate it, the more I loved it. The sausage and cheese were excellent. Even after I finished my tofu, I scraped up the crumbs with the tip of my chopsticks.

Northern Japan: The Beginning

Late August 2009

Lifting my eyelids was like trying to pull water from a deep well. The alarm rang, and I hit the snooze. Then I hit it again. When my mind finally decided I had to get up, I moved slowly. There was an ominous pricking in my left ear. I had a headache and felt slightly flushed.

Stress sickness. I had felt it before.

“Stress sickness” is my own word. It’s that feeling of dancing dangerously on the edge of a cold. Technically, you’re not sick, you know you’re not sick, but if you push yourself too hard, you might well become so. It usually follows some period of intense work or stress. Hence the name.

When I was in Yamaguchi Prefecture last spring, I had felt these same symptoms, but the difference was they came in the middle of the trip—after I worn myself out trying to look at every single place of historical significance that I could find. This time all I’d done was wake up and I was already exhausted.

It was not an auspicious sign.

I got on my plane, read a book, and arrived at Hokkaido, and still my spell of exhaustion had not passed. So, then and there, I made a decision. This vacation I was not going to focus on seeing and doing as much as I could. This vacation I would have a new priority: relax.

It became a theme that wove through my vacation. It was my command, my order to myself. At the crossroads of a decision, I would ask myself: will this lead me to health and peace of mind? Or will it make me more stressed? It was my mantra that I chanted over and over again in my mind.

Relax. Relax. Relax.

Pre-Hokkaido Business

Early August 2009

From Friday August 7th until Saturday August 15, I will be on vacation in Northern Japan. My first stop is Hokkaido, which is the second largest and northernmost of Japan’s four main islands. In the old days, it was a rough and wild land, and even now, Hokkaido is known chiefly for its agriculture and delicious food. I will spend one day in the main city of Sapporo (famous for beer and ramen), and then move down to Hakodate, which was the site of a famous battle, for two days.

After that, I will move to the Tohoku region, which is the northern area of the main island of Honshu. My first stop will be Sendai, which is one of the larger cities in the region. Then I will move down to Aizu-Wakamatsu, the site of a famous rebellion and suicide tragedy, for two nights. Finally, I will end in Tokyo, where I will do some research at one of the museums for a short story I’d like to get published.

So, that will be my summer trip. Naturally, I will give you more details once I actually do my traveling.

But in the days before my vacation, I find myself unexpectedly busy. On paper, it looks like I should be winding down with the arrival of summer. Not so. Classes ended at the third week of July, and I found myself just getting busier. Technically, these days are filled with “office days” which usually means going to the Board of Education, sitting in an air conditioned room, and doing whatever they can find for us to do. Usually that’s nothing. Usually.

Except, that with the end of July comes a change in ALTs. The old Assistant Language Teachers go home and the new ones arrive. And this year, the two other ALTs in my office, Rachelle and Vickie, were both leaving. And, in fact, I was changing schools so I had my share of goodbyes.

Someone decided that rather than having us waste time going to the office, it would be better for each of us ALTs to report to a “base” school, which could relay information to us. These base schools would be Kanoya High, Kanoya Kogyo (Technical), and Kanoya Nogyo (Agricultural)—in short the three Kanoya schools. All well and logical—except two of those schools were mine. To make a long story short, I had to switch Kanoya Kogyo (technical) for Koyama High, a smaller school further from my house.

So, in the last few weeks, I cleaned out my desk, wrote instructions for my successor, and prepared a goodbye speech (in Japanese). Every time I went to Kogyo (admittedly only three times in July), I was struck with a heavy emotion, a mix of sadness and stress. I really hadn’t expected to leave any of my schools, and I had a special affection for Kogyo, my nearly all-boys school. I had started off having almost no classes and ended up averaging four classes a day and actually preparing lessons. Kogyo was the only school where I felt like a real teacher. And that was the school I had to leave.

So, after I said goodbye to Kogyo, I had about a week and a half to say goodbye to Rachelle and Vickie. The two of them were even busier than I was. They had to clean, pack, and say goodbye to everyone. Still, we found some time to spend together. We went to see Harry Potter and I took them out to dinner. The Kanoya girls met one last time for Shirokuma: shaved ice with condensed milk and fruit. Of the six girls present, I was the only one staying.

Yesterday (was it really only yesterday?), Rachelle and Vickie left Japan. I woke up early that day, not only because I had to be at the office before 8:00, but I was also a little restless. July 29th had been wedged in my mind like a splinter. The day my friends were leaving. The day the new ALTs were arriving.

Rachelle brought some friends with her to the airport, including Noriko, a teacher from her school, and Masako, a friend who was a volunteer English guide. They reminisced while we waited in the airport. Before long, Rachelle and Vickie were waiting in line to go through security. All this time, I had been with my two friends, wondering why I didn’t feel sadder… or really anything at all. It didn’t really hit me, until I saw Noriko with tears streaming down her face and Masako wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. And then I just felt heavy.

But this tender moment was broken by a bit of comedy—well, to me it seemed as such. Jinnouchi-sensei—a teacher Kushira Shogyo, my school, and her daughter Yuana were coming to say goodbye to Rachelle. But they hadn’t told anyone until Rachelle and Vickie had given everyone hugs and were about to pass through security.

What made this event funny to me was that Jinnouchi-sensei had only spent time with Rachelle maybe four or five times—she was more my friend than Rachelle’s. But if you knew Jinnouchi-sensei at all, you would know she’s a hyper-social butterfly and she really loves making friends with people. Plus, she’d had Yuana call me and ask me about Rachelle’s departure time a few days earlier, and so I suspected something like this would happen.

Anyway, this had a happy ending, because Jinnouchi-sensei and Yuana got there just in time. They appeared right before Rachelle was about to disappear through the metal detector and had about three seconds to say goodbye. For this they had driven two hours to the airport and would drive two hours back.

Rachelle and Vickie passed through security. We all—in true Japanese fashion—stood by the glass window, waving, until we could no longer see them at all.

By now it was about 11:30. Everyone but Noriko decided to go to lunch. Now, the silent figure in all of this drama—the person I haven’t even mentioned yet—was our supervisor, Shibahara-sensei. As the only male and the person with the least English, that really wasn’t surprising. But this is how much of a social butterfly Jinnouchi-sensei is. She had never met Shibahara-sensei before, so she immediately set about getting acquainted. We went out to lunch, and the restaurant was busy, so we had to break into two groups. Jinnouchi-sensei volunteered to sit with Shibahara-sensei.

Volunteered nothing. More like, she told us how it was going to be. They sat chatting, while Yuana, Masako, and I talked about castles in Saga prefecture. Of course, Jinnouchi-sensei paid for our lunch. This did not surprise me in the least; whenever we go out, she pounces on the bill. I don’t even try to stop her anymore; just make a note in my head and try to get her a treat later on.

After lunch, Jinnouchi-sensei, Yuana, and Masako left, but Shibahara-sensei and I stayed at the airport. The new ALTs arrived at 1:30. I had the laminated signs Rachelle and Vickie had made. I was anxious. I was waiting for people I had never seen before who I would hopefully make friends with. It wasn’t just me either. Half of all ALTs coming to Kanoya were on this same flight, so the people from the Boards of Educations from all over the prefecture were gathered together with signs of their own.

The flight emptied out, and out came all the foreigners. Matt, Vickie’s replacement, was the first one we saw. He was tall, with reddish brown hair and glasses. Since he was getting Kogyo, I had emailed him a couple times before. I knew he was a year older than Vickie, from New Jersey, and liked taking photographs and sports.

Andie, Rachelle’s replacement, took a lot longer to come out. Andie was short, petite, and black. I can’t say African American, because she’s from Jamaica. All I knew about her at the time was where she was from and her age (one year older than Rachelle).

So, there we were. As soon as I saw them, most of my anxiety left. I don’t know why, but knowing what they looked like was a big relief. They were both nice and polite and wanted to know a lot about Japan. So I told them. Whatever I could think of. About halfway through the car ride, we stopped at a convenience store for drinks. I remembered how my boss had bought us ice cream the first day, so I decided to do the same.

We went to the office and the ALTs made their self-introduction speeches in Japanese. Both Matt and Andie had, oh I’d say maybe a year’s worth of Japanese, and so they could manage that just fine. But when the boss made the speech in Japanese, I was the one to translate it into English. In my two years I’ve risen into the position as the unofficial translator, a post I hold with some pride.

I offered to take the new ALTs grocery shopping after work. Then we went out to dinner and I showed them around Rina City, a shopping center near our house. By the time I got home it was 8:00. For all intents and purposes, it was a 12-hour day. And by no means was I finished.

Today, in the afternoon, we went to the bank and city hall, while I explained the two hundred ways Japan makes us sort garbage (I’m only slightly exaggerating), helped fill out forms, and did more translation in general. I don’t begrudge the extra work or the enormous amount of information that must be passed down. I actually like feeling helpful, like an older sister. At the same time, I know these are adults (both of whom are older than me) who want to be independent as soon as possible. I feel like in a few weeks I’ll be obsolete and they’ll know more about Kanoya than I will. There are already so many things I don’t know, questions I can’t answer.

They both seem nice, but I haven’t had much of a chance to get to know each other. We’re still on polite, information gathering mode. I’ve been talking and talking, but all of it practical: how to tell soy milk from normal milk, where the coin laundry is, the way ATM cards work in Japan….

Besides all this saying goodbye and saying hello, I’ve been keeping busy with other tasks, which include studying Japanese (from 1-4 hours a day), finishing a chapter (and trying to write another one), taking a medical exam (but first translating the questionnaire into English), making dinner (hoping the food doesn’t spoil too quickly in this heat), fighting insects (they’re winning), reading reviews from fans of my fanfiction (some are threatening to kill me if I don’t write another chapter), and viewing a rare once in a lifetime eclipse (which I couldn’t see at all because it was cloudy). I might go see fireworks on Saturday. I definitely have to clean my house by Sunday.

To put it succinctly, lately I’ve been just a little stressed.

So, I’m looking forward to this vacation. A break from studying Japanese. Long train rides to read in. Beautiful scenery and good food with no cooking and no washing dishes.

Post From a Tired Becky (Yakushima)

June 4, 2009



I’m a bit tired right now. I’ve been getting ready for my trip back to America to see my brother’s graduation. I’ve cleaned a bit and sorted through my books, trying to decide which ones to take home now, which to take home later, and which to leave in Japan. In less than a week I’ll be on American soil, but in the meantime, I have a bunch of chores to get caught up on.

The main culprit has been a sudden and very thorough obsession with fanfiction. If my novel is my wife, then fanfiction is my mistress and whenever I’m frustrated with the former, it’s so easy to turn to the latter to relieve my stress.

But the problem is that my “mistress” often exhausts me. Apparently, I don’t just write fanfiction, I become obsessed with it and spend my every free moment in the throes of passion, writing, writing, writing, until I get completely burned out. My “simple” fanfiction ended up being about 25 pages per draft and went through about five drafts, which meant in the space of two weeks, I probably wrote something like 100 pages, most of which got deleted. How did I do this? By neglecting everything else. Chores. Letters. Japanese. That pesky problem with my sink…

Oh, yes, my kitchen sink was having some problems draining. I would do the dishes and it would take a few minutes for the water to drain away. I discovered a bottle of some kind of Japanese drain-o left by my predecessor and kept pouring it in, bit by bit, with limited results. In the end, I got frustrated and dumped the whole bottle in. I ran the water and foam came out. Then, suddenly, with a giant belching sound, the sink sucked up the water. I thought that solved my problem. If only.

Anyway, my fanfiction didn’t quite get completed before I ran out of time. I’d told Vickie I’d go to Yakushima with her in the last weekend of May. Friday night, I put my fanfiction aside and tried to get some things done. Packing. Cleaning. Laundry.



Ah, yes, laundry. That was when the incident with the drain reared its ugly head with a vengeance. I stepped into my bathroom to collect my wet clothes and found the floor was completely flooded. The washing machine had drained right onto my floor. I had to mop it up with my dirty towels.

Now, what did that have to do with my sink? Well, when I emptied my kitchen sink of dish water, I heard a familiar belching from the bathroom. I looked and sure enough there was a new puddle of water floating around my washing machine. Apparently, the drain to my kitchen sink connects to my washing machine as well (though not, thank heaven, to the toilet or the shower). This drain had gotten clogged with thick muck, and every time it had to drain too much water too quickly, it would vomit it back out via my washing machine’s drain. Then it would try to suck the water back in, but not before leaving a residue of foul-smelling muck all around the area near my washing machine.

Well this was a nice thing to discover the night before a trip. And this same day, I found out the back tire of my bike was flat. Besides which, two weeks of spending hours without rest writing and writing left me suddenly mentally exhausted. I couldn’t even deal with packing that night, let alone all these unexpected problems.

Saturday morning, I woke up at 6:00, packed, tidied my house, and waited for Vickie. She arrived at 7:30. Yakushima is an island, and it takes about four hours to get there by ferry from Kagoshima City, which is maybe two and a half hours from our city of Kanoya, when timing is going our way. Poor Vickie. She gets a bit seasick. I managed just fine, blasting my iPod and focusing on the music. But I did feel a little wobbly on land.



Yakushima is World Heritage Sight. It’s a mountain on an island, and it’s famous for a particular type of cedar tree called Yakusugi. This tree is a highly fragrant, light-weight wood, similar to the redwoods of California (but not quite so red). Yakushima is also one of the few places where sea turtles lay their eggs. It’s a very unique place and I’m not going to do it justice with my quick summary of what happened.



We got to shore, paid way too much to rent a car, and headed off on a forty minute drive to Yakusugi Land. While on the twisty mountain road, I had to make reservations in Japanese on Vickie’s cell phone to see the sea turtles while the reception kept cutting out. It nearly made me car sick. We went hiking for about an hour at Yakusugi Land and then drove to the other side of the island (an hour and a half) to make camp. Yes, we went camping. Vickie borrowed a tent and some sleeping bags from another ALT. After that, we went zipping down the winding coast as wild deer and monkeys popped out onto the road. Made for nice pictures. We hunted down dinner, which was no easy task; we were on the half of the island where we couldn’t even find a convenience store, let alone a restaurant. We finally found a nice little izakaya (a Japanese tavern) run by a friendly lady and ate there.



By now, we were at Nagata Beach, where sea turtles lay their eggs from May to July. Okay, I’m going to stop my break-neck pace and actually spend a few minutes describing the sea turtles, because that was cool.



They told us to come at about 8:30 at night, and while we waited, a couple of tourists showed us some fireflies near the river. There was a lecture about the sea turtles in Japanese and I could understand about half of it. To be honest, we really didn’t know what we were going to see when they walked us on the beach. But there was a turtle, sitting in a self-dug hole, laying eggs. We could see the eggs shudder out of her, in little bursts of one or two. So many soft, slimy eggs. We were transfixed.



When the turtle finished, she tried to bury her eggs. At this point our guides measured her shell and stuck a tracking device in her leg. She didn’t like that, and started slapping sand into the air and snuffing. The guides said she was a small turtle, but her shell was still as big as a breastplate, and her face looked like a dinosaur. She made her way back into the ocean and as she did, she crossed paths with another turtle, just coming out of the ocean.

You know, I can’t help but feel like our turtle somehow conveyed to the turtle just coming out of the water that there was a crazy group of people who would stare at you and poke at you—because it wasn’t very long before the second turtle turned and returned to the water as well. The turtles, as you can imagine, were very slow, and by the time we got back to the car, it was 10:00.



The next day, we went to a fruit garden and they let up sample the fruit: bananas, passion fruit, papaya, and several kinds of oranges, all naturally grown and delicious. We saw two waterfalls, did some shopping, and went to a museum. We made chopsticks. Our instructor gave up two rough sticks of cedar wood and had us carve it and sand it. The curls of wood gave off a strong, fresh smell. I felt like such an amateur and my chopsticks came out weird, but when he added a thin strip of decorative paper and put it in plastic, it ended up looking nice. The last thing Vickie and I did was take a drive, where we discovered a shrine hidden in the back of a cave. Vickie said that the cave went further back than the shrine. Who knows what could have been hidden there?



By 4:20, we were on the ferry back. While Vickie zoned out, I started reading my latest book, World War Z: an Oral History of the Zombie War. We got to Kagoshima and—I swear this always happens on my way back—we just missed the Terumizu ferry, which goes across the bay to our side of the prefecture. So, we had to wait another hour to catch the next one. I ate dinner on the ferry; Vickie didn’t. We got home at about 10:00. I dumped my stuff on the floor, took a shower, and went to bed.

Monday, I still had to deal with a clogged drain, a flat tire, and a load of dirty towels that needed to be washed ASAP. Plus, I had to pick up my tickets to America. I couldn’t do much about the drain, but I did fix my tire and go to the coin laundry.

The weather lately has been humid and cloudy. I know that tsuyu, or the Japanese rainy season, is going to break on us any day now. Truth be told, the rain should have burst on our heads that weekend we went to Yakushima, but we got lucky that weekend: not a cloud in the sky. The rain won’t hold out much longer though. The ajisai (hydrangea) bushes look thirsty for water.

Bugs, Mudbaths, and Fanfiction

Golden Week 2009

The weather has been lovely lately, warm and sunny in the day, cool in the mornings and evenings, and no rain in the longest time. The downside is that the spring weather has also brought out hoards of insects. There were four pesky flies buzzing around my house all weekend (although two drowned in my coffee cup when I was away at school), as well as the usual ants, cockroaches, and giant spiders. There are also giant black butterflies the size of my palm that dive-bomb me while I'm riding my bike, but those stay outside.

In other news, the beginning of May gave us the glorious holiday known as Golden Week, three consecutive national holidays, a five-day weekend for me. This is important because it's the longest free holiday we have and the last one until July. Most ALTs use this time to travel. Vickie went to China. But what did I do? I sat around my apartment writing fanfiction.

But in my defense I did spend one day traveling/ socializing. On Saturday, May 2nd I went to Kirishima with Rachelle, Jinnouchi-sensei, Yuana, and Shimizu-sensei. It was a nice little road trip. In the car, Rachelle, Yuana, and I played with some "What if..." cards Rachelle had printed off the Internet. (If you were an animal, what would you be? If you had to eat your friends to survive, would you?) We stopped along the way at an ashi-yu or foot bath and dangled our legs in warm water. The foot bath gave us the perfect view of our volcano, Sakurajima, and it was such a clear, fine day. Afterwards, we visited Kirishima Shrine and ate lunch.

The main event on our little road trip was sakura sakura onsen, a hot springs public bath complex of some local fame. Jinnouchi-sensei had been wanting to take me since I first met her, but I was... shy. (Let me remind you, you go into Japanese onsens NAKED.) However, a year and a half later my shyness was going down. I think you just have to live in Japan a while to understand. You just sort of get used to the idea; it's not such a big deal.

Anyway, what made sakura sakura onsen was its "mud baths." Now, I don't know about you, but those words evoke the image in my mind of sitting in a giant warm mud puddle. Actually, it was nothing like that. In the area outside (yes, it was outside; no, no one could see us, the area was well blocked off) there were containers of a special sulfuric mud harvested from Sakurajima. Apparently, it was good for the skin. So you slathered this mud on and then sat in a specially marked-off bath that you were allowed to murk up. Jinnouchi-sensei was in a playful mood, because she kept pouring mud down my back and let me tell you, that mud was COLD! I got her back though.

This mud bath was supposed to be good for the skin and I suppose it did make my skin softer for about a day. However, I don't recommend it. Sulfer has a very distinctive smell and not the good kind. What's worse, it lingers. I don't think it was overpowering enough for other people to notice, but I noticed. The smell stuck for a full three days. What's worse, it clung to the clothes I wore. I couldn't get it off my jeans despite washing them twice.

So, maybe that's some excuse for staying in the house for the rest of my weekend--I was smelly. For the next 4 days I didn't go further than the grocery store. I was so busy writing and rewriting the latest chapter of my fanfiction. And actually I didn't finish until two days after Golden Week ended. So much effort spent on one little 18 page chapter.

And yet it as worth it, because I got a review from Ninnik Nishukan. This is my favorite, FAVORITE fanfiction author, one who does such sweet romance stories, I rank her (I think it's a her?) right below Jane Austen on my list of favorite romance writers. (Granted my list isn't long.) So, she's a brilliant writer and she complimented my story. Not just, "Nice story," but "I didn't think there were still people around who actually wrote GOOD Ranma 1/2," and "I might even have to try to remember the password to my old Ranma 1/2 blog so I can recommend your stories at some point." I was practically dancing around with glee. I mean, I don't care if it is fanfiction, when an author you respect and admire compliments your writing, wouldn't you be happy too?

Translation: Rozando (literally Dew Mountain Palace)

(From a signpost in Yamaguchi City)



In April of the 3rd year of Bunkyu (1863), the feudal lord of Hagi, Mori Takachika, moved the han office from Hagi to Yamaguchi City in order to deal with the political situation of the Bakumatsu. He built the government palace on the same spot as today’s prefectural office. At the same time, he set up a tea ceremony house near the government palace, on the foot of Ichirozan Mountain, and, omitting the character ichi, the building became known as Rozando, literally “Dew Mountain Palace.” On the pretext of tea ceremony, Takachika brought many people, regardless of social standing, to this one room, where they secretly discussed overthrowing the Shogunate, restoring Imperial rule, and other great deeds. After the abolition of hans, he was forced to move elsewhere. The building changed hands many times and began to fall into disrepair.

Shinagawa Yajiro, a close associate of Takachika who worked tirelessly to overthrow the Shogunate, knew about the state of this building and thought it was a shame to let a place with so much history fall into ruin. As a volunteer, he made plans, raised funds, and purchased this building, which was moved to its present location in April, in the 24th year of Meiji (1891). At this time, a park was also built in the area around the tea ceremony house. Afterwards, in the 38th and 48th year of Showa (1963 and 1973), construction was done to extend the area, giving the house its current look.

Translation: Chinryu-tei (Literally, Pillow-Flowing House)

(From a signpost in Yamaguchi City)



This building, located in front of Yamaguchi City Dojo Gate, was a detached Japanese-style house belonging to the prestigious Abe family. Because it was near the Sakagawa River, it was called “Chinryu-tei,” or “Pillow-Flowing House.”

During the Bakumatsu period, Choshu han and Satsuma han, which had opposed each other in events such as the Incident at the Forbidden Gate (also called the Battle of Hagomori-go-mon), were brought together in an alliance, mediated by Sakamoto Ryoma, in the 2nd year of Keio (1866). The purpose of this “Satcho” Alliance was “Tobaku,” the overthrowal of the Tokugawa Shogunate.

Saigo Takamori, Okubo Toshimichi, and Komatsu Tatewaki were among the Satsuma samurai who visited Yamaguchi City in 1867 for the purpose of discussing the deployment of Satcho union troops. They held secret meetings in Chinryu-tei with Choshu samurai Kido Takayoshi, Hirosawa Sanneomi, Shinagawa Yajiro, and Ito Hirobumi, among others.

This building is thought to have been constructed towards the end of the Edo period. Since then, it was moved twice and was transferred to its present location in the 35th year of Showa (1960). As there are few buildings from the Meiji Restoration in all of Japan, Chinryu-tei is a valuable historical site.

As a note, Chinryu-tei was originally attached to a much larger building structure, but during the repeated moving process, it was scaled down to its current size.

Yamaguchi #9: A Dull City

April 2009

I had lunch at a crowded restaurant near Kozan Park, in Yamaguchi city, on Friday. Because all the private tables were taken, I got placed at a long table in a tatami-mat room, shared by an older woman who was elegantly dressed. By and by, the woman and I began to talk. There are days when grammar and vocabulary come together in my head, and Japanese rolls off my tongue almost eloquently. This was not one of those days. But I tried to speak to this woman. I tried so hard.

The lady let me ramble on for about 20 minutes before revealing, at last, that she spoke perfect English. Well. Didn’t I feel foolish, then?

After lunch I had soft serve ice cream at the park. The advertisement read, “Teutsu Soba Soft Cream,” and I had to do a double take just to make sure I was reading it right. Yes, it actually said “Handmade Buckwheat Noodle (Flavored) Soft Serve.” I ordered it mixed with Hokkaido cream (the most delicious cream in Japan), and the person put some kind of crunchy, vaguely nutty topping on the soba side. Actually, it was pretty good. Not as sweet as most ice creams and a little more earthy.



Kozan Park was known for its five-storied pagoda, Ruriko-ji. Since it was spring vacation and beautiful weather, everyone was out doing hanami near the temple, that is, having a picnic and enjoying the cherry blossoms. I ate my ice cream. There were two white women (a grandma and a mother) and two Asian-looking kids in front of me, and the mother was speaking to the kids in English. At one point, in the temple, she explained how people in Japan would ring the bell and clap. I thought this was interesting, because later I saw a Japanese mother take her two kids up to Xavier Memorial Chapel and I could just imagine her trying to explain to them how Christian religion worked.



The other two things I came to see in the park had to do with history, of course. Chinryu-tei and Rozando. Unfortunately, I didn’t know much about them, because my guidebook ignored Chinryu-tei entirely and only said of Rozando that the Mori lord held secret meetings to overthrow the Shogun. The signs at the sight weren’t helpful either. No English for Chinryu-tei (but inside were portraits of revolutionaries I knew), and maybe one English sentence for Rozando, saying basically the same thing my guide had.

Oh, well, that’s how it goes. I was in Japan after all. There was nothing to do but take pictures of the Japanese signs, print them out after the trip, and painstakingly translate them for myself. Which is exactly what I did.

All in all, though, Yamaguchi City was rather dull.