On Top of Fuji-san
Monday, September 26, 2005
Saturday, September 24, 2005
Fuji
It was a dark and foggy night...Honestly!
As we approached Fuji I was doubtful that there was even a mountain there. All you could see was a mass of green and white. The fog blanketed the bus on all sides and instead of the sharp drop-off, all you could see at the edge of the road was a wall of white. A theme that would be repeated throughout the night.
We bought a few things at the 5th station, including a flash light and a large plain hiking stick with some bells tied around the top. The stick is great because you can get brands burned onto it at each of the rest stations, making it one large useful souvenir. We started hiking as the sun was starting to set. We walked into the green forest and actually started by hiking down for a bit. But soon we were climbing a wide moderately angled slope. Our guide stopped a few times in the greying light to point at some path markers and make very clear something we should or should not do if we got separated from the group. We did know that if we took the wrong path back we would end up on the wrong side of the mountain and would have to take a very expensive taxi home. However, we had no idea how our guide's instructions pertained to that. We just took the opportunities to rest and look at the fog rolling across the path. I guess at this height, 2300m, we were probably walking through low clouds. My hair was dripping with condensation.
As we climbed higher we were taking breaks about every 30-40 minutes. Breaks just meant stopping where you were and sprawling on the path for about 10 minutes. If we were climbing during high season that would have meant creating a traffic jam, as hundreds of people start climbing at the same time we were starting. However, because we were climbing in the off season, we only crossed a few hikers coming down the mountain.
We passed a few huts that were closed for the season before reaching the 6th station. A quick branding (for the stick)and bathroom break (for us)and we were on our way again. The stations are spaced about 300m apart, but our guide was moving at a very deliberate pace to accommodate the varying levels within the group and we were now stopping every 20-30 minutes for a break. So it was taking us about an hour to reach each station. Another thing that was slowing us down was that the path had narrowed, so that it was only safe to walk in single file. And the path had gotten much steeper, going from 30 degrees, to 40, up to I think 50 or 60 degrees of weathered, hardened lava rock. I was contemplating just how awful a step off of the path would be when a short, spry, yet elderly lady in front of me missed a foot hold and fell backwards onto the path, her foot still stuck on the rock. We just grabbed her in time, luckily she was all right. We stopped soon after at another closed hut.
One of the benefits of the frequent breaks was the opportunity to gaze at the stars. I so seldom get to see the stars away from the glare of the city, and we were well above the lights of the nearest cities glowing from beneath the clouds. We were above the clouds now, but it wasn't that cold. Our breath didn't even fog, so there was nothing to obscure the amazing sky. It was odd to see familiar constellations at strange places in the sky. Orion was lying nearly parallel with the horizon, and we struggled to find other familiar sights. I saw three shooting stars. The longer we looked the more stars we could see, crowding the sky, pressing down on us.
We finally reached the 8th station at about 9:30. We were given bags for our boots, breakfast for the morning, and after gathering our sticks for branding we were herded off to bed. We were going to rest for a few hours and then start climbing again in order to reach the summit before dawn. There was a long low room with two long bunk beds built onto either wall. Each bed was lined with a row of heavy comforters and buckwheat pillows. After being given a spot at the end of the row we tried to get comfortable and sleep. Even though we had not slept at all for the past 36 hours I couldn't sleep. I listened to the soundtrack of A New Brain and kept nudging Carl everytime he started to snore. Which meant that Carl didn't sleep either. Because I knew sunrise wasn't until 5:30 and that we only had 700m to go to the summit I didn't think we'd start climbing until after 1am, and that I'd have plenty of time to catch a nap. I was wrong. Only 2 hours after tucking us in, they untucked us and we started for the summit at about 11:40.
We thought we'd been climbing in the dark before, but there had still been remnants of sunset lighting the sky. Now we were climbing in total darkness. And our bodies hadn't been moving for a while so we were feeling the cold. We eagerly started off and promptly stopped 20 minutes later. We were now stopping every 15-20 minutes for about 10-15 minutes at a time. It was slow going. After about an hour and a half we made it to the original 8th station, where we lost a few members of our group. They paid to stop and stay the night. We pressed on to the Goraikokan Hut. Yes, all of these places were open at 2 o'clock in the morning. That's when they do a lot of their business in hikers searching for the dawn. This was a charming place with friendly staff and highly over-priced food. We decided to skip the 4 dollar bowl of miso or can of coffee and shared our trail mix with our table mates. They kindly took our picture. This was also the first time we'd seen other hikers going up since we'd left. But they were all climbing in small groups. And moving much faster than us. We watched their flashlights ascend the mountain far ahead of us.
After we left the hut we started stopping every 10-15 minutes. The path was still steep so there often wasn't a good place to stop, and a few times we had to hug the edge of the path as a few hikers passed us. We were stopping often to accommodate any altitude sickness people might be feeling and because climbing in the pitch black is a little stressful. I will admit my heart was pounding loud and hard after a few steps because of the atmosphere, but I just wanted to keep going and ignore the chain-smoking guide's frequent stops.
About a 100m below the summit the sun started to come up. Just a faint line on the horizon, but it soon started to glow red. I didn't think we'd make the summit before the sun rose. But our guide pushed through the last 15 minutes and we were on top of Japan! There are no other words for it but amazing. Instead of the horrible cold and weather that normally plagues off-season climbers we had a beautiful ocean of clouds below us and a wonderful view in all directions. We climbed to the top rim of the crater and stared silently as the sun rose pink and red and yellow through the white clouds. Some people clasped their hands together in prayer. Our guide took that moment to tell them to pray that the baseball team, the Hanshin Tigers, would win the pennant. There was also a Shinto shrine gate at the very top of the mountain. We took the bells that we had pulled off of our walking stick and hung them on the gate like many travelers before us. There were bells covering the gate and all over the ground. I couldn't tell you why, but it seemed a fitting way of commemorating the climb. A pair of German's started to ask Carl if he was German but then saw his Canada baseball cap. We took their pictures and they took ours. They were going to explore the rest of the crater, but our group was getting set to go back down the mountain. We first made a few phone calls from the top of the mountain. The reception was great! And it was the middle of the afternoon in Canada.
We headed down the mountain on the descent route. It's a different path going down than up. On the way down you use the trailer track they use to haul goods and equipment to the various huts. It's a wide path of loose dirt and gravel, making it very easy to loose your footing and skid down half the path if you're not careful. Unfortunately somebody stumbled. Just as we got back to the 8th station a man rolled his ankle badly and they had to call for a truck to come get him. This required our hiking guide to stay with him, and the tour guide to run down the mountain to wait for him and make sure his belongings made the trip home. This left us to make it down the path on our own. So glad we had those long detailed instructions to fall back on!
We did have a rough map and we mostly kept the other hikers in our sight. But our group became quickly strung out along the path. Carl and I were mostly on our own, but we caught up to a small group near the end and followed them through the tricky path forks near the bottom. After 4 hours of walking heel first downhill, with my body at a steep angle to the mountain, with dirt flying at every step, I was ready to stop and never walk again. But as we waited for the rest of the group to arrive we purchased some souvenirs and tried to stretch our tired tendons.
We loaded onto the bus and bid our fog shrouded friend goodbye. It was an incredible experience but my sore, sleep-deprived body was happy to be moving towards home. But first a few more stops. Thankfully one of them was an onsen. Onsen is Japanese for hot-spring, but this one was very small, more like a large locker room with indoor and outdoor hot tubs. Did I also mention that onsens are public baths? Public bathing is a big thing here, but this was out first experience of bathing in public. You have to shower or wash yourself off in the onsen room before plunging into the hot shallow baths. The water was about 38 degrees and wonderful for aches, pains, and blistered skin. But it was a little uncomfortable. I was familiar with the idea in theory, from discussing it with my students, but definitely not in practice. I wasn't sure what naked faux pas' I might be committing. And we were definitely underprepared. We had to rent towels. I emerged after Carl, and we wedged our clean, tired bodies into our tiny seats for the trip home.
Another stop for dinner, and a few more rest stops, and we were finally home. They dropped us off at the train station at 8pm. We squeezed our bodies and backpacks onto the train full of rush hour commuters. We picked up groceries for our meals the next day, and staggered home with stick in hand. It was probably the most time it had ever taken us to walk the 6 blocks home. Another bath and shower and then we fell into our futons at 11pm for a solid 11 hour sleep. We had been awake for 2 days and had climbed and descended from the highest point in Japan. We had experienced nature and the mountain, the fog, the stars and the sunrise. It was September 16th and as we stood at the top of Fuji, celebrating our climb, we were also celebrating 6 months in Japan. See you in another 6!
As we approached Fuji I was doubtful that there was even a mountain there. All you could see was a mass of green and white. The fog blanketed the bus on all sides and instead of the sharp drop-off, all you could see at the edge of the road was a wall of white. A theme that would be repeated throughout the night.
We bought a few things at the 5th station, including a flash light and a large plain hiking stick with some bells tied around the top. The stick is great because you can get brands burned onto it at each of the rest stations, making it one large useful souvenir. We started hiking as the sun was starting to set. We walked into the green forest and actually started by hiking down for a bit. But soon we were climbing a wide moderately angled slope. Our guide stopped a few times in the greying light to point at some path markers and make very clear something we should or should not do if we got separated from the group. We did know that if we took the wrong path back we would end up on the wrong side of the mountain and would have to take a very expensive taxi home. However, we had no idea how our guide's instructions pertained to that. We just took the opportunities to rest and look at the fog rolling across the path. I guess at this height, 2300m, we were probably walking through low clouds. My hair was dripping with condensation.
As we climbed higher we were taking breaks about every 30-40 minutes. Breaks just meant stopping where you were and sprawling on the path for about 10 minutes. If we were climbing during high season that would have meant creating a traffic jam, as hundreds of people start climbing at the same time we were starting. However, because we were climbing in the off season, we only crossed a few hikers coming down the mountain.
We passed a few huts that were closed for the season before reaching the 6th station. A quick branding (for the stick)and bathroom break (for us)and we were on our way again. The stations are spaced about 300m apart, but our guide was moving at a very deliberate pace to accommodate the varying levels within the group and we were now stopping every 20-30 minutes for a break. So it was taking us about an hour to reach each station. Another thing that was slowing us down was that the path had narrowed, so that it was only safe to walk in single file. And the path had gotten much steeper, going from 30 degrees, to 40, up to I think 50 or 60 degrees of weathered, hardened lava rock. I was contemplating just how awful a step off of the path would be when a short, spry, yet elderly lady in front of me missed a foot hold and fell backwards onto the path, her foot still stuck on the rock. We just grabbed her in time, luckily she was all right. We stopped soon after at another closed hut.
One of the benefits of the frequent breaks was the opportunity to gaze at the stars. I so seldom get to see the stars away from the glare of the city, and we were well above the lights of the nearest cities glowing from beneath the clouds. We were above the clouds now, but it wasn't that cold. Our breath didn't even fog, so there was nothing to obscure the amazing sky. It was odd to see familiar constellations at strange places in the sky. Orion was lying nearly parallel with the horizon, and we struggled to find other familiar sights. I saw three shooting stars. The longer we looked the more stars we could see, crowding the sky, pressing down on us.
We finally reached the 8th station at about 9:30. We were given bags for our boots, breakfast for the morning, and after gathering our sticks for branding we were herded off to bed. We were going to rest for a few hours and then start climbing again in order to reach the summit before dawn. There was a long low room with two long bunk beds built onto either wall. Each bed was lined with a row of heavy comforters and buckwheat pillows. After being given a spot at the end of the row we tried to get comfortable and sleep. Even though we had not slept at all for the past 36 hours I couldn't sleep. I listened to the soundtrack of A New Brain and kept nudging Carl everytime he started to snore. Which meant that Carl didn't sleep either. Because I knew sunrise wasn't until 5:30 and that we only had 700m to go to the summit I didn't think we'd start climbing until after 1am, and that I'd have plenty of time to catch a nap. I was wrong. Only 2 hours after tucking us in, they untucked us and we started for the summit at about 11:40.
We thought we'd been climbing in the dark before, but there had still been remnants of sunset lighting the sky. Now we were climbing in total darkness. And our bodies hadn't been moving for a while so we were feeling the cold. We eagerly started off and promptly stopped 20 minutes later. We were now stopping every 15-20 minutes for about 10-15 minutes at a time. It was slow going. After about an hour and a half we made it to the original 8th station, where we lost a few members of our group. They paid to stop and stay the night. We pressed on to the Goraikokan Hut. Yes, all of these places were open at 2 o'clock in the morning. That's when they do a lot of their business in hikers searching for the dawn. This was a charming place with friendly staff and highly over-priced food. We decided to skip the 4 dollar bowl of miso or can of coffee and shared our trail mix with our table mates. They kindly took our picture. This was also the first time we'd seen other hikers going up since we'd left. But they were all climbing in small groups. And moving much faster than us. We watched their flashlights ascend the mountain far ahead of us.
After we left the hut we started stopping every 10-15 minutes. The path was still steep so there often wasn't a good place to stop, and a few times we had to hug the edge of the path as a few hikers passed us. We were stopping often to accommodate any altitude sickness people might be feeling and because climbing in the pitch black is a little stressful. I will admit my heart was pounding loud and hard after a few steps because of the atmosphere, but I just wanted to keep going and ignore the chain-smoking guide's frequent stops.
About a 100m below the summit the sun started to come up. Just a faint line on the horizon, but it soon started to glow red. I didn't think we'd make the summit before the sun rose. But our guide pushed through the last 15 minutes and we were on top of Japan! There are no other words for it but amazing. Instead of the horrible cold and weather that normally plagues off-season climbers we had a beautiful ocean of clouds below us and a wonderful view in all directions. We climbed to the top rim of the crater and stared silently as the sun rose pink and red and yellow through the white clouds. Some people clasped their hands together in prayer. Our guide took that moment to tell them to pray that the baseball team, the Hanshin Tigers, would win the pennant. There was also a Shinto shrine gate at the very top of the mountain. We took the bells that we had pulled off of our walking stick and hung them on the gate like many travelers before us. There were bells covering the gate and all over the ground. I couldn't tell you why, but it seemed a fitting way of commemorating the climb. A pair of German's started to ask Carl if he was German but then saw his Canada baseball cap. We took their pictures and they took ours. They were going to explore the rest of the crater, but our group was getting set to go back down the mountain. We first made a few phone calls from the top of the mountain. The reception was great! And it was the middle of the afternoon in Canada.
We headed down the mountain on the descent route. It's a different path going down than up. On the way down you use the trailer track they use to haul goods and equipment to the various huts. It's a wide path of loose dirt and gravel, making it very easy to loose your footing and skid down half the path if you're not careful. Unfortunately somebody stumbled. Just as we got back to the 8th station a man rolled his ankle badly and they had to call for a truck to come get him. This required our hiking guide to stay with him, and the tour guide to run down the mountain to wait for him and make sure his belongings made the trip home. This left us to make it down the path on our own. So glad we had those long detailed instructions to fall back on!
We did have a rough map and we mostly kept the other hikers in our sight. But our group became quickly strung out along the path. Carl and I were mostly on our own, but we caught up to a small group near the end and followed them through the tricky path forks near the bottom. After 4 hours of walking heel first downhill, with my body at a steep angle to the mountain, with dirt flying at every step, I was ready to stop and never walk again. But as we waited for the rest of the group to arrive we purchased some souvenirs and tried to stretch our tired tendons.
We loaded onto the bus and bid our fog shrouded friend goodbye. It was an incredible experience but my sore, sleep-deprived body was happy to be moving towards home. But first a few more stops. Thankfully one of them was an onsen. Onsen is Japanese for hot-spring, but this one was very small, more like a large locker room with indoor and outdoor hot tubs. Did I also mention that onsens are public baths? Public bathing is a big thing here, but this was out first experience of bathing in public. You have to shower or wash yourself off in the onsen room before plunging into the hot shallow baths. The water was about 38 degrees and wonderful for aches, pains, and blistered skin. But it was a little uncomfortable. I was familiar with the idea in theory, from discussing it with my students, but definitely not in practice. I wasn't sure what naked faux pas' I might be committing. And we were definitely underprepared. We had to rent towels. I emerged after Carl, and we wedged our clean, tired bodies into our tiny seats for the trip home.
Another stop for dinner, and a few more rest stops, and we were finally home. They dropped us off at the train station at 8pm. We squeezed our bodies and backpacks onto the train full of rush hour commuters. We picked up groceries for our meals the next day, and staggered home with stick in hand. It was probably the most time it had ever taken us to walk the 6 blocks home. Another bath and shower and then we fell into our futons at 11pm for a solid 11 hour sleep. We had been awake for 2 days and had climbed and descended from the highest point in Japan. We had experienced nature and the mountain, the fog, the stars and the sunrise. It was September 16th and as we stood at the top of Fuji, celebrating our climb, we were also celebrating 6 months in Japan. See you in another 6!
Friday, August 26, 2005
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Nara
Two weeks ago Carl and I had a day off together, something that has become increasingly more rare as they keep throwing overtime at us, so we decided to get out of town and do something fun. We headed for Nara. Luckily our local station is on the Nara line out of town and 45 minutes later we found ourselves in the small quiet town of Nara.
First, a bit of history; Nara was the one of the first capitals of Japan from 710 - 784 AD. It is considered the cradle of Japanese culture, arts and crafts. It is also where Buddhism first flourished in Japan under the strong patronage of successive emperors and empresses. They sponsored magnificent temples and works of art, many of which have survived to this day. There are 7 cultural sites in Nara registered on the UNESCO World Heritage List, including the world's largest bronze Buddha, the world's largest wooden building, and the world's oldest wooden building. You can hardly take a step in Nara without tripping over something precious. Or over deer droppings. On to the story.
We arrived in Nara on a hot, sunny, clear afternoon. After a quick orientation by the friendly lady at the tourist center, we were on our way. The closest Canadian equivalent we could think of for Nara is Banff. A beautiful little tourist town in the shadows of the mountains, at one with the wilderness. Except the mountains are closer to hills and in Nara you have to feed the deer.
After a short walk up a shopping street there was a small pond, filled with coi and turtles, flanked by a three and five story pagoda. To the right is an old arts and crafts market and up and to the left is Nara Park. Nara Park was created in 1880 as a reflective spot with which to contemplate the beautiful monuments that are on each edge of the park. To further enhance the scenic setting they filled the park with tama (not tame) deer, a symbol of Nara.
I was raised by a hunter. I was taught to respect the line between wilderness and humans. Animals are not people and should not be treated as such. Bambi was never watched in our house because deer don't talk to skunks and the only evil hunters are poachers and those who hunt irresponsibly with no respect for nature. So of course, one of the first things I did in Nara was buy a packet of deer cookies sold by the vendors. I love you dad!
The vendors are scattered every 20 feet and are surrounded by deer. Carl was very disappointed to find that the cookies were made for the deer and not from the deer. The second you approach a vendor the deer surround you. This is why people and wild animals should be kept separate. The second people become a source of food, they are no longer a source of fear. And that's when the people should be afraid, very very afraid. All around the park you see the dance of people buying cookies and then running in circles trying to feed and avoid the deer at the same time. If you don't feed every deer around you right away they start to get ... pushy. In this amusing series of shots you can see me attempting to feed the deer and not become deer food myself. Stop biting my shirt you short, sharp-toothed monster! There's skin there!! Hey!!!
Carl had a better idea. Buy the cookies after dark and sneak up to other deer not surrounding the vendors and feed the deer by stealth. Much less dangerous for all involved.
After the @#%! deer we moved across the park towards the highlight of Nara, Todai-ji Temple, the world's largest wooden building, housing the world's largest bronze buddha. The huge horned Daibatsu-den (Buddha house) is hard to describe other than saying it is truly awesome in every sense of the word. And it used to be bigger. After it burned down twice, it was finally rebuilt in 1692 at two-thirds the original size. The Daibutsu, great Buddha, is even more awe-inspiring. He represents the Cosmic Buddha who presides over the universe, and each level of reality is depicted on the lotus flower he sits on. Each petal of the lotus he sits on is 10 feet tall. He is also flanked by impressive guardian figures. In the back corner of the building, there is a small hole in the base of one of the pillars. The inside is smooth from people crawling through, because apparently going through it reserves you a place in paradise. A camel passing through the needle's eye, so to speak.
To the west, and further up the hill are more temples, which have fantastic views of the city. They also provided some welcome shade on a hot sunny day. We walked south from there to Kasuga Grand Shrine, an important place for Shinto worship. The paths around it are lined with more than 2000 huge stone lanterns. We circled down to the east side of the park and finally settled in a Mos Burger restaurant to admire the sunburns we'd each picked up. Finally, we bought some bread to attract the minnows and watch the turtles eat the minnows in the pond, as we waited for the sun to set.
After sunset the Nara lantern festival began. For two weeks every August the streets and hills around Nara are covered with thousands of small plastic lanterns holding floating candles. There are also numerous buckets of water around, just in case. The number of volunteer hours that must go into that each night is amazing. But it's worth it. It's truly lovely. The lanterns were arranged to form words on the higher hills and in patterns on the ground. There were large bronze arrangements and floating holders on the ponds. We wandered among families as they took pictures of their children in yukatas playing among the lanterns and the still hungry deer. And after another hour of wandering we took our tired feet home to bed. Another day and night in Japan.
To see all our pictures, click here.
First, a bit of history; Nara was the one of the first capitals of Japan from 710 - 784 AD. It is considered the cradle of Japanese culture, arts and crafts. It is also where Buddhism first flourished in Japan under the strong patronage of successive emperors and empresses. They sponsored magnificent temples and works of art, many of which have survived to this day. There are 7 cultural sites in Nara registered on the UNESCO World Heritage List, including the world's largest bronze Buddha, the world's largest wooden building, and the world's oldest wooden building. You can hardly take a step in Nara without tripping over something precious. Or over deer droppings. On to the story.
We arrived in Nara on a hot, sunny, clear afternoon. After a quick orientation by the friendly lady at the tourist center, we were on our way. The closest Canadian equivalent we could think of for Nara is Banff. A beautiful little tourist town in the shadows of the mountains, at one with the wilderness. Except the mountains are closer to hills and in Nara you have to feed the deer.
After a short walk up a shopping street there was a small pond, filled with coi and turtles, flanked by a three and five story pagoda. To the right is an old arts and crafts market and up and to the left is Nara Park. Nara Park was created in 1880 as a reflective spot with which to contemplate the beautiful monuments that are on each edge of the park. To further enhance the scenic setting they filled the park with tama (not tame) deer, a symbol of Nara.
I was raised by a hunter. I was taught to respect the line between wilderness and humans. Animals are not people and should not be treated as such. Bambi was never watched in our house because deer don't talk to skunks and the only evil hunters are poachers and those who hunt irresponsibly with no respect for nature. So of course, one of the first things I did in Nara was buy a packet of deer cookies sold by the vendors. I love you dad!
The vendors are scattered every 20 feet and are surrounded by deer. Carl was very disappointed to find that the cookies were made for the deer and not from the deer. The second you approach a vendor the deer surround you. This is why people and wild animals should be kept separate. The second people become a source of food, they are no longer a source of fear. And that's when the people should be afraid, very very afraid. All around the park you see the dance of people buying cookies and then running in circles trying to feed and avoid the deer at the same time. If you don't feed every deer around you right away they start to get ... pushy. In this amusing series of shots you can see me attempting to feed the deer and not become deer food myself. Stop biting my shirt you short, sharp-toothed monster! There's skin there!! Hey!!!
Carl had a better idea. Buy the cookies after dark and sneak up to other deer not surrounding the vendors and feed the deer by stealth. Much less dangerous for all involved.
After the @#%! deer we moved across the park towards the highlight of Nara, Todai-ji Temple, the world's largest wooden building, housing the world's largest bronze buddha. The huge horned Daibatsu-den (Buddha house) is hard to describe other than saying it is truly awesome in every sense of the word. And it used to be bigger. After it burned down twice, it was finally rebuilt in 1692 at two-thirds the original size. The Daibutsu, great Buddha, is even more awe-inspiring. He represents the Cosmic Buddha who presides over the universe, and each level of reality is depicted on the lotus flower he sits on. Each petal of the lotus he sits on is 10 feet tall. He is also flanked by impressive guardian figures. In the back corner of the building, there is a small hole in the base of one of the pillars. The inside is smooth from people crawling through, because apparently going through it reserves you a place in paradise. A camel passing through the needle's eye, so to speak.
To the west, and further up the hill are more temples, which have fantastic views of the city. They also provided some welcome shade on a hot sunny day. We walked south from there to Kasuga Grand Shrine, an important place for Shinto worship. The paths around it are lined with more than 2000 huge stone lanterns. We circled down to the east side of the park and finally settled in a Mos Burger restaurant to admire the sunburns we'd each picked up. Finally, we bought some bread to attract the minnows and watch the turtles eat the minnows in the pond, as we waited for the sun to set.
After sunset the Nara lantern festival began. For two weeks every August the streets and hills around Nara are covered with thousands of small plastic lanterns holding floating candles. There are also numerous buckets of water around, just in case. The number of volunteer hours that must go into that each night is amazing. But it's worth it. It's truly lovely. The lanterns were arranged to form words on the higher hills and in patterns on the ground. There were large bronze arrangements and floating holders on the ponds. We wandered among families as they took pictures of their children in yukatas playing among the lanterns and the still hungry deer. And after another hour of wandering we took our tired feet home to bed. Another day and night in Japan.
To see all our pictures, click here.
Friday, August 05, 2005
The Long Weekend - Part 3
Our Sunday started late and in the pouring rain. Again.
Now Osaka is not the most touristy of cities to begin with. Even though it's the second largest city in Japan, and one of the oldest, it has often been called the ugly stepsister of Japan. It is a hub of business and it has great food, but those aren't really tourist draws. And let's face it, the gee-whiz factor of anything is dampened in a downpour. We started our mission, to show our friends our home, at a severe disadvantage. However, we did our best. We really did try guys!
We started by going to Osakajo, Osaka's castle, just a few minutes walk from our apartment. We have a lot of photos of the castle already, but we added a few new ones to show the change of the seasons. And of course Scott had to have his picture taken, the little camera hog. We wandered around the plaza and over to a nearby shrine. It really is lovely, but again, the rain didn't help. "Hey, you should go look at the fantastic zen rock garden. I mean if you can make it past the river on the path." We were helped in our explorations by a sweet volunteer guide, who did her best to explain Buddhist rituals in limited English. And after posing for a picture with us she gave us directions to our next destination. Shi-Tennoji Temple.
Now we had never been to Shi-Tennoji before, even though it is one of Osaka's largest temples. It's just a little outside of our usual areas, so we were finding it for the first time with Joe and Leanne. When we got to Tennoji station we wandered upstairs looking for a map or sign or tourist information office. We had barely climbed the stairs before a kind man had spotted our confusion and was trying to help us. When Carl had finally made our destination clear he lit up like a light and bolted across the station with our group hardly able to keep up. He raced out of the station, to the intersection and pointed down the street. Apparently, all we had to do was go straight until we reached a large intersection and we'd be there. It was at this point that Joe turned to me and asked,
"Does this ever happen to you?"
"What?"
"Strangers coming up to you, offering to help?"
"Well, now that you mention it no, never."
Leanne chipped in with, "Oh, this happens to me all the time."
Carl said, "Me too, even when I know when I'm going, I've had people offer to help me."
Joe and I looked at each other.
Joe said, "See, this never happens to me. I've been here 10 months and no one's ever walked up to me and offered me directions or help, without me asking."
"Oh, that's just because you're a guy," Leanne said.
"No, this happens to Carl too. I think it's because you're a blonde."
And that's when it all became clear. The power of the blonde. Oh, they tried to deny it, but the path their yellow hair cleared for us was undeniable. Now at this point, some of you may be going, "But Colleen, you're a blonde too!" No, I've always been a mousy blonde, or a reddish blonde, or some other kind of -ish blonde. Never a true, flaxen haired, yellow blonde. And comparing the looks I get, with the giggles and points that Carl and his charming grin and sunglasses get is honestly like comparing the sun and the moon. The hair of the blonde glows. It emits an aura that draws people to them. Like moths to the proverbial flame they are.
However, Leanne and Carl did not glow brightly enough to make the rain go away. So after receiving our directions we walked down the street with our increasingly battered umbrellas looking for the temple. Japan is a place of such history and contrasts that temples and shrines really are everywhere, even in the middle of a busy city. We crossed the street at one point to check out a small shrine we though might have been connected to the temple. But just half a block later we found our destination. Exactly where our guide said it would be. We wandered around and saw monks taking offerings to ring bells for followers. Candles being burned at small shrines. We performed some ritual ablutions ourselves, rinsing our hands and mouths at one of the fountains even though, oh yeah, it's still raining. We walked into the heart of the complex and saw an admission booth for the temple gardens. Now we were feeling a little beaten down by the rain, and Joe, Carl and I just wanted to move on and not pay to see the gardens. But Leanne insisted and we were glad she did. Even in the rain the zen gardens were wonderful. Quiet and peaceful, truly beautiful. We took a lot of photos even though a lot of them were blurry because my hands were shaking in the damp cold. We left just before the gardens closed and moved on to Namba.
Namba is one of the two downtown cores and it's where I work. We wandered through the claustrophobic underground mall choked with people in the middle of the afternoon and back out onto the rain soaked streets. We had to stop at the giant Apple store and let the boys ogle the toys. And then we went to Dotomburi bridge, a place famous for its giant neon signs. Giant neon signs that, unfortunately, weren't lit up yet. Oh. We though about staying and watching the elaborately dressed teenagers hit on each other until they were turned on (the signs, not the teenagers), but we thought in the interest of time we should move on.
Onto the subway, where we marvelled at the number of men with Platinum Blonde and Bon Jovi hair-dos. We went across town to Umeda, the other downtown core and where Carl works. We went straight to Yodabashi camera, one of Carl's favourite places in Osaka. All toys and gadgets and gizmos. On our way back into the mall Carl and Joe stopped for a beer at one of vendor carts that are everywhere. A sort of portable stand-up bar. It is over these beers that the legend of the leprechorn was born. A mythical creature with astonishing powers that I really have to let Carl tell you about. I am in no way capable of truly communicating the full mythology of such a creature myself. Until then you will have to imagine the powers of such a creature yourself.
Barely recovered from our encounter with the mystical creature, we went to Kinokuniya, a huge bookstore that thankfully has an English language section. After a few purchases at the temporary English language bargain section we went back out and tried to decide what to do next. By this time, the rain had worn down everyone's patience and enthusiasm. Even our umbrellas had reached their ends. And I know my feet were hurting. We decided to go in search of karaoke for our last night in Japan together. We wandered through the closing malls and up and down the soaked streets. Just as we were about to give in and go to the overpriced Big Echo a sidewalk flyer person stopped us and pointed us in the direction of their establishment. They took pity on our tired faces and rode up in the tiny elevator with us. As we were ushered into our private room, we couldn't help noticing the faded wallpaper and fraying seats, all infused with the permanent smell of cigarettes. But the price was right and they had a great selection of songs, which we belted into submission for an hour.
Then we were off to our last stop of the day. Sushi. We decided on a kaiten-zushi, a conveyor belt sushi restaurant that can also be found in North America. For those unfamiliar with the concept, chefs put small plates of sushi on a conveyor belt that goes around the entire restaurant. You pick up any plate that looks appetizing to you and your bill is determined by the number plates you pile up. We had some very good sushi, and a chance to relax in a warm dry place. By the time we were done the rain was gone. And we walked home to dry clothes and hot baths.
The next morning Joe and Leanne left with us as we went to work. It was sad to see them go. But we had a great time with them for our first long weekend in Japan.
For all the pics, click here.
Now Osaka is not the most touristy of cities to begin with. Even though it's the second largest city in Japan, and one of the oldest, it has often been called the ugly stepsister of Japan. It is a hub of business and it has great food, but those aren't really tourist draws. And let's face it, the gee-whiz factor of anything is dampened in a downpour. We started our mission, to show our friends our home, at a severe disadvantage. However, we did our best. We really did try guys!
We started by going to Osakajo, Osaka's castle, just a few minutes walk from our apartment. We have a lot of photos of the castle already, but we added a few new ones to show the change of the seasons. And of course Scott had to have his picture taken, the little camera hog. We wandered around the plaza and over to a nearby shrine. It really is lovely, but again, the rain didn't help. "Hey, you should go look at the fantastic zen rock garden. I mean if you can make it past the river on the path." We were helped in our explorations by a sweet volunteer guide, who did her best to explain Buddhist rituals in limited English. And after posing for a picture with us she gave us directions to our next destination. Shi-Tennoji Temple.
Now we had never been to Shi-Tennoji before, even though it is one of Osaka's largest temples. It's just a little outside of our usual areas, so we were finding it for the first time with Joe and Leanne. When we got to Tennoji station we wandered upstairs looking for a map or sign or tourist information office. We had barely climbed the stairs before a kind man had spotted our confusion and was trying to help us. When Carl had finally made our destination clear he lit up like a light and bolted across the station with our group hardly able to keep up. He raced out of the station, to the intersection and pointed down the street. Apparently, all we had to do was go straight until we reached a large intersection and we'd be there. It was at this point that Joe turned to me and asked,
"Does this ever happen to you?"
"What?"
"Strangers coming up to you, offering to help?"
"Well, now that you mention it no, never."
Leanne chipped in with, "Oh, this happens to me all the time."
Carl said, "Me too, even when I know when I'm going, I've had people offer to help me."
Joe and I looked at each other.
Joe said, "See, this never happens to me. I've been here 10 months and no one's ever walked up to me and offered me directions or help, without me asking."
"Oh, that's just because you're a guy," Leanne said.
"No, this happens to Carl too. I think it's because you're a blonde."
And that's when it all became clear. The power of the blonde. Oh, they tried to deny it, but the path their yellow hair cleared for us was undeniable. Now at this point, some of you may be going, "But Colleen, you're a blonde too!" No, I've always been a mousy blonde, or a reddish blonde, or some other kind of -ish blonde. Never a true, flaxen haired, yellow blonde. And comparing the looks I get, with the giggles and points that Carl and his charming grin and sunglasses get is honestly like comparing the sun and the moon. The hair of the blonde glows. It emits an aura that draws people to them. Like moths to the proverbial flame they are.
However, Leanne and Carl did not glow brightly enough to make the rain go away. So after receiving our directions we walked down the street with our increasingly battered umbrellas looking for the temple. Japan is a place of such history and contrasts that temples and shrines really are everywhere, even in the middle of a busy city. We crossed the street at one point to check out a small shrine we though might have been connected to the temple. But just half a block later we found our destination. Exactly where our guide said it would be. We wandered around and saw monks taking offerings to ring bells for followers. Candles being burned at small shrines. We performed some ritual ablutions ourselves, rinsing our hands and mouths at one of the fountains even though, oh yeah, it's still raining. We walked into the heart of the complex and saw an admission booth for the temple gardens. Now we were feeling a little beaten down by the rain, and Joe, Carl and I just wanted to move on and not pay to see the gardens. But Leanne insisted and we were glad she did. Even in the rain the zen gardens were wonderful. Quiet and peaceful, truly beautiful. We took a lot of photos even though a lot of them were blurry because my hands were shaking in the damp cold. We left just before the gardens closed and moved on to Namba.
Namba is one of the two downtown cores and it's where I work. We wandered through the claustrophobic underground mall choked with people in the middle of the afternoon and back out onto the rain soaked streets. We had to stop at the giant Apple store and let the boys ogle the toys. And then we went to Dotomburi bridge, a place famous for its giant neon signs. Giant neon signs that, unfortunately, weren't lit up yet. Oh. We though about staying and watching the elaborately dressed teenagers hit on each other until they were turned on (the signs, not the teenagers), but we thought in the interest of time we should move on.
Onto the subway, where we marvelled at the number of men with Platinum Blonde and Bon Jovi hair-dos. We went across town to Umeda, the other downtown core and where Carl works. We went straight to Yodabashi camera, one of Carl's favourite places in Osaka. All toys and gadgets and gizmos. On our way back into the mall Carl and Joe stopped for a beer at one of vendor carts that are everywhere. A sort of portable stand-up bar. It is over these beers that the legend of the leprechorn was born. A mythical creature with astonishing powers that I really have to let Carl tell you about. I am in no way capable of truly communicating the full mythology of such a creature myself. Until then you will have to imagine the powers of such a creature yourself.
Barely recovered from our encounter with the mystical creature, we went to Kinokuniya, a huge bookstore that thankfully has an English language section. After a few purchases at the temporary English language bargain section we went back out and tried to decide what to do next. By this time, the rain had worn down everyone's patience and enthusiasm. Even our umbrellas had reached their ends. And I know my feet were hurting. We decided to go in search of karaoke for our last night in Japan together. We wandered through the closing malls and up and down the soaked streets. Just as we were about to give in and go to the overpriced Big Echo a sidewalk flyer person stopped us and pointed us in the direction of their establishment. They took pity on our tired faces and rode up in the tiny elevator with us. As we were ushered into our private room, we couldn't help noticing the faded wallpaper and fraying seats, all infused with the permanent smell of cigarettes. But the price was right and they had a great selection of songs, which we belted into submission for an hour.
Then we were off to our last stop of the day. Sushi. We decided on a kaiten-zushi, a conveyor belt sushi restaurant that can also be found in North America. For those unfamiliar with the concept, chefs put small plates of sushi on a conveyor belt that goes around the entire restaurant. You pick up any plate that looks appetizing to you and your bill is determined by the number plates you pile up. We had some very good sushi, and a chance to relax in a warm dry place. By the time we were done the rain was gone. And we walked home to dry clothes and hot baths.
The next morning Joe and Leanne left with us as we went to work. It was sad to see them go. But we had a great time with them for our first long weekend in Japan.
For all the pics, click here.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
My Japanese Canada Day Weekend - Part 2
When last we left our intrepid Team Canuck, they were sleeping soundly on the floor of Motormouth's and Schmeeb's apartment, having collapsed there sometime past 2 am. Sometime around 8:30 our heros awoke for some strange reason, as normally there is no force on earth that can move me from a comfy bed. Strangely however we were not bleary eyed, but full of vim and verve and ready to tackle the day. Until we looked outside. It was raining. Still. But adventure beckoned, so we walked out the door and into the rain. I would not be cowed by the rain and refused to bring an umbrella. What could go wrong? Today we were going to USJ - Universal Studios Japan!
When we got off the train the weather was worse. The strong wind blowing the sheets of rain in all directions. But having arrived we moved towards the park, only temporarily distracted by the smell of Cinnabons. The western junk food I normally deride is strangely compelling in a foreign land. As we got closer to the park my excitement rose. I actually started to hop, skip and jump. The biggest theme park I'd been to was Calaway Park. This was a whole new level of fun.
We started at ET:the Ride. It was very odd to watch a young Steven Spielberg doing the intro dubbed in Japanese. It was here we discovered that while most of the staff have some basic English, all the info and dialogue on the rides was in Japanese. Other than that, it's almost exactly the same park as they have in California and Florida, or so I was told. I was too busy dancing in circles, 'I'm going on rides!!!! Wheeeee!!!'
We went to ET and flew through the air as the cute alien said goodbye, T-3 - where their Terminator wasn't that scary, Spiderman - the most awesomest ride there (yes, I know awesomest isn't a word), Back to the Future - the ride most in need of an update, especially after the 3-D wonders of Spiderman next door. Then we went to the Waterworld show and watched people get set on fire and fly through the air on jet skis. And I discovered that's my true calling in life, stunt person! Get paid to do fun, stupid things! We went back to Jurassic Park - we did the water ride on a rainy day, ehh - we were already wet. And all along the way Scott the mascot posed for photos, he especially liked the cars.
We did the Jaws ride, ate overpriced pizza, and watched street shows. Most of the street shows featured Caucasian performers singing or doing acrobatics. Kind of cheesy, but we never stayed long, there was more death-defying fun to be had. I really wanted to go to the Backdraft display, but learning how they make fire effects in the movies isn't nearly as informative when coming from a dubbed Ron Howard. Then we saw the Shrek 4-D movie, yes 4-D, it means that things come from above and below your seat to attack you during the movie, and they use Smellovision. In Japanese, but we could follow the plot. Then we went back to Spiderman again because it was SO COOL! I mean really, so COOL!!! It was in polarized 3-D, the ride whipped around fast enough to break your neck and it actually felt like you were surfing through sewer tunnels and being dropped from buildings.
Did I mention it was cool?
We missed about half the attractions because all the stage shows were in Japanese. But we spent the day hanging out, laughing, and trying to stay dry. And by the end of the day it was beautiful and warm. Just in time for the spectacular fireworks/floating stage show. On floating stages in the middle of the lake they had a tribute to the movies throughout the ages done in song, dance, water, lights, giant inflatable monsters and fireworks. During the movie monster section, a giant King Kong rose behind us as a man climbed a building and zip lined with Fay Wray to safety over our heads. During the Jurassic Park section a giant pterodactyl grew at the other end of the park as plesiosaurs swam through the lake. People on jet skis zipped through the lake flying multi-tiered kites. And then there was a final burst of music and fireworks. At the end of the day we wandered out tired and happy. And there was still one more day in our long weekend...
....oh, yeah if you want to see all of the photos from Universal Studios click here.
When we got off the train the weather was worse. The strong wind blowing the sheets of rain in all directions. But having arrived we moved towards the park, only temporarily distracted by the smell of Cinnabons. The western junk food I normally deride is strangely compelling in a foreign land. As we got closer to the park my excitement rose. I actually started to hop, skip and jump. The biggest theme park I'd been to was Calaway Park. This was a whole new level of fun.
We started at ET:the Ride. It was very odd to watch a young Steven Spielberg doing the intro dubbed in Japanese. It was here we discovered that while most of the staff have some basic English, all the info and dialogue on the rides was in Japanese. Other than that, it's almost exactly the same park as they have in California and Florida, or so I was told. I was too busy dancing in circles, 'I'm going on rides!!!! Wheeeee!!!'
We went to ET and flew through the air as the cute alien said goodbye, T-3 - where their Terminator wasn't that scary, Spiderman - the most awesomest ride there (yes, I know awesomest isn't a word), Back to the Future - the ride most in need of an update, especially after the 3-D wonders of Spiderman next door. Then we went to the Waterworld show and watched people get set on fire and fly through the air on jet skis. And I discovered that's my true calling in life, stunt person! Get paid to do fun, stupid things! We went back to Jurassic Park - we did the water ride on a rainy day, ehh - we were already wet. And all along the way Scott the mascot posed for photos, he especially liked the cars.
We did the Jaws ride, ate overpriced pizza, and watched street shows. Most of the street shows featured Caucasian performers singing or doing acrobatics. Kind of cheesy, but we never stayed long, there was more death-defying fun to be had. I really wanted to go to the Backdraft display, but learning how they make fire effects in the movies isn't nearly as informative when coming from a dubbed Ron Howard. Then we saw the Shrek 4-D movie, yes 4-D, it means that things come from above and below your seat to attack you during the movie, and they use Smellovision. In Japanese, but we could follow the plot. Then we went back to Spiderman again because it was SO COOL! I mean really, so COOL!!! It was in polarized 3-D, the ride whipped around fast enough to break your neck and it actually felt like you were surfing through sewer tunnels and being dropped from buildings.
Did I mention it was cool?
We missed about half the attractions because all the stage shows were in Japanese. But we spent the day hanging out, laughing, and trying to stay dry. And by the end of the day it was beautiful and warm. Just in time for the spectacular fireworks/floating stage show. On floating stages in the middle of the lake they had a tribute to the movies throughout the ages done in song, dance, water, lights, giant inflatable monsters and fireworks. During the movie monster section, a giant King Kong rose behind us as a man climbed a building and zip lined with Fay Wray to safety over our heads. During the Jurassic Park section a giant pterodactyl grew at the other end of the park as plesiosaurs swam through the lake. People on jet skis zipped through the lake flying multi-tiered kites. And then there was a final burst of music and fireworks. At the end of the day we wandered out tired and happy. And there was still one more day in our long weekend...
....oh, yeah if you want to see all of the photos from Universal Studios click here.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Canada Day...Japanese Style eh!
When last we left our intrepid traveler's they were celebrating the arrival of some friendly faces in their cozy apartment. (I can't say tiny anymore, because apparently Joe's apartment in less than half the size of ours!) Leanne had arrived the weekend before, but our party was finally complete with the arrival of Joe on July 1. That's right, Canada Day. We were all determined to spend our national day with other nationals. Joe was barely ensconced in our homey abode when we began the celebration, Canadian style. A kitchen party!! With Spirit of the West and Great Big Sea on the iPod, and (Japanese) beer in the hands of the boys we sat around in the kitchen, chatting like we had actually seen each other in the past 4 months. Nachos were made in the toaster oven, and homemade plum hooch was passed around in small glass jars. Life was good, but we weren't done yet.
As night fell we assembled into Team Canuck!! (I know you had another word Carl, but this is my blog!) As Motormouth, Schmeeb, Wet, and Babyface (you figure out who's who) we ventured out in our best red and white clothing and underthings, rub-on Canadian tattoos, stickers, pins, (thanks Moms!), and umbrellas (this is Japanese style and it is rainy season). Leading the pack was our mascot, later to be named Scott. A small furry animal of indeterminate type, he was dressed in a Mountie outfit and carrying a flag. But he didn't attract nearly as much attention as the 4 loud Canadians carrying him. You thought Americans could be obnoxious, try 4 homesick Canadians!
On the train we thrust Scott into the hands of unsuspecting Osakans and snapped picture after picture. It was even more fun when we pressed his paw and he started to wave his flag and play the Canadian anthem. We quickly moved through the crowded rainy streets to an izakaya (bar) featuring a Canadian theme. Apparently Canada means a log cabin with saddles for decorations and lumberjacks in thin plaid cotton cooking Japanese food. Who knew? We were told there was a 30 minute wait, but we stayed our ground, we were Canadians and we were celebrating in a building with a large Canadian flag out front. Even if there were only 5 Canadians inside, including ourselves. Leanne even convinced the owner to let us put a flag sticker on their wall. We got a seat at the huge bar and started amusing staff and customers alike with our dancing, singing Scott. We ate and drank and ate some more, until we were asked to share the one sticky English menu they had. But by then it was time to indulge in another valued Canadian pastime, Bingo!! (I know, I know, but it's a gimmick at the bar, and lots of Canadians do play bingo!) Joe, Carl and I brushed up on our Japanese numbers and quickly translated for Leanne. I was off to a promising start, and had 4 ways to win when the first person shouted Bingo! OK, they didn't shout bingo, but they did shout something that roughly translates to I got it! The 3000 yen prize had been won. But there were two more prizes to go, and two numbers later the cute girl at the front of the bar shouted BINGO! and got 2000 yen off the bill for her group! (That would be me :) We still spent too much money, but, oh no, we weren't done yet!
Off we wandered in search of the ultimate Japanese pastime, karaoke. We only had an hour and a half before the last train, but we were on a mission. At Big Echo, one of many karaoke chains in Japan, we tried to rent ourselves a little room for an hour. Now before you start making any conjectures about 4 consenting adults renting a room, if you don't already know, the Japanese do not go to bars to sing karaoke, or if you do, you pay by the song. You rent a private room with two sanitized mikes and sing away in relatively sound-proof enjoyment. After asking the girl behind the counter many questions in our very poor Japanese, and listening to her answers in very fast Japanese, we eventually managed to get a room. It was our first time singing karaoke in Japan. Carl and I had hesitated before, because we felt a little strange renting a room for just the two of us, however, that is very common here. Our first time was awesome. A huge flat screen TV, a great sound system, a touch screen data pad for entering info, and even 2 tambourines!! Drinks and food are ordered by phone and delivered by a waitress. Of course we scared ours so badly with our enthusiastic singing that she broke our first tray of drinks. We sang like Canucks possessed by the spirits of Anne Murray and Rita McNeil. I think there was even a little Bryan Adams rocker in the mix. But we didn't actually sing songs by any of them. I sang ABBA medleys and Carl sang The Wind Beneath My Wings. But this time he wasn't drunk and no one had a gun to his head. We still don't know why he did it. All too soon our hour was up and we toddled off with sore feet and happy hearts.
That is until we went to the pet store. I don't mind pet stores here too much, because even though the cages are small, the animals seem really happy and active. They seem well treated, and they had better be because your average dog or cat can cost two weeks salary. Leanne played tug-o-war with the puppy in the front of the store. He really liked her camera strap. We talked with a customer fascinated with all of our Canadian paraphenalia. She introduced us to her two papillions, her son and daughter, she said. But as we wandered towards the back of the store things took a turn for the worse. There was a friendly parrot, who liked Carl, especially his watch. There was also a miniature goat. And a very stressed anteater, who ran circles around his cage and swiped at anyone not bearing ants. And a sad lonely monkey, who just wanted to hold hands. Well, actually he held my hand with his feet, I don't know what his hands were doing. We had to leave after that.
On the way home, we debated setting off fireworks (legal here!) but as soon as we sat down in our miniscule apartment we didn't want to move. The clock had struck midnight and Team Canuck was now just another group of tired people who partied too hard on a Friday night. To see the rest of the pictures from our Canada Day adventure, click on the Canada Day link on the right. Some time after 2 we said good night, tomorrow was going to be another long fun-filled adventure...
To Be Continued....
As night fell we assembled into Team Canuck!! (I know you had another word Carl, but this is my blog!) As Motormouth, Schmeeb, Wet, and Babyface (you figure out who's who) we ventured out in our best red and white clothing and underthings, rub-on Canadian tattoos, stickers, pins, (thanks Moms!), and umbrellas (this is Japanese style and it is rainy season). Leading the pack was our mascot, later to be named Scott. A small furry animal of indeterminate type, he was dressed in a Mountie outfit and carrying a flag. But he didn't attract nearly as much attention as the 4 loud Canadians carrying him. You thought Americans could be obnoxious, try 4 homesick Canadians!
On the train we thrust Scott into the hands of unsuspecting Osakans and snapped picture after picture. It was even more fun when we pressed his paw and he started to wave his flag and play the Canadian anthem. We quickly moved through the crowded rainy streets to an izakaya (bar) featuring a Canadian theme. Apparently Canada means a log cabin with saddles for decorations and lumberjacks in thin plaid cotton cooking Japanese food. Who knew? We were told there was a 30 minute wait, but we stayed our ground, we were Canadians and we were celebrating in a building with a large Canadian flag out front. Even if there were only 5 Canadians inside, including ourselves. Leanne even convinced the owner to let us put a flag sticker on their wall. We got a seat at the huge bar and started amusing staff and customers alike with our dancing, singing Scott. We ate and drank and ate some more, until we were asked to share the one sticky English menu they had. But by then it was time to indulge in another valued Canadian pastime, Bingo!! (I know, I know, but it's a gimmick at the bar, and lots of Canadians do play bingo!) Joe, Carl and I brushed up on our Japanese numbers and quickly translated for Leanne. I was off to a promising start, and had 4 ways to win when the first person shouted Bingo! OK, they didn't shout bingo, but they did shout something that roughly translates to I got it! The 3000 yen prize had been won. But there were two more prizes to go, and two numbers later the cute girl at the front of the bar shouted BINGO! and got 2000 yen off the bill for her group! (That would be me :) We still spent too much money, but, oh no, we weren't done yet!
Off we wandered in search of the ultimate Japanese pastime, karaoke. We only had an hour and a half before the last train, but we were on a mission. At Big Echo, one of many karaoke chains in Japan, we tried to rent ourselves a little room for an hour. Now before you start making any conjectures about 4 consenting adults renting a room, if you don't already know, the Japanese do not go to bars to sing karaoke, or if you do, you pay by the song. You rent a private room with two sanitized mikes and sing away in relatively sound-proof enjoyment. After asking the girl behind the counter many questions in our very poor Japanese, and listening to her answers in very fast Japanese, we eventually managed to get a room. It was our first time singing karaoke in Japan. Carl and I had hesitated before, because we felt a little strange renting a room for just the two of us, however, that is very common here. Our first time was awesome. A huge flat screen TV, a great sound system, a touch screen data pad for entering info, and even 2 tambourines!! Drinks and food are ordered by phone and delivered by a waitress. Of course we scared ours so badly with our enthusiastic singing that she broke our first tray of drinks. We sang like Canucks possessed by the spirits of Anne Murray and Rita McNeil. I think there was even a little Bryan Adams rocker in the mix. But we didn't actually sing songs by any of them. I sang ABBA medleys and Carl sang The Wind Beneath My Wings. But this time he wasn't drunk and no one had a gun to his head. We still don't know why he did it. All too soon our hour was up and we toddled off with sore feet and happy hearts.
That is until we went to the pet store. I don't mind pet stores here too much, because even though the cages are small, the animals seem really happy and active. They seem well treated, and they had better be because your average dog or cat can cost two weeks salary. Leanne played tug-o-war with the puppy in the front of the store. He really liked her camera strap. We talked with a customer fascinated with all of our Canadian paraphenalia. She introduced us to her two papillions, her son and daughter, she said. But as we wandered towards the back of the store things took a turn for the worse. There was a friendly parrot, who liked Carl, especially his watch. There was also a miniature goat. And a very stressed anteater, who ran circles around his cage and swiped at anyone not bearing ants. And a sad lonely monkey, who just wanted to hold hands. Well, actually he held my hand with his feet, I don't know what his hands were doing. We had to leave after that.
On the way home, we debated setting off fireworks (legal here!) but as soon as we sat down in our miniscule apartment we didn't want to move. The clock had struck midnight and Team Canuck was now just another group of tired people who partied too hard on a Friday night. To see the rest of the pictures from our Canada Day adventure, click on the Canada Day link on the right. Some time after 2 we said good night, tomorrow was going to be another long fun-filled adventure...
To Be Continued....
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Shopping: The Sport
I was going to talk about food today. And will at some point in the future. Please write and ask questions, and I guarantee I will answer all of them. However, the accuracy of the answers is not guaranteed...
But seeing as we went shopping today, I feel a need to vent. In our lessons we always do a warm-up/get to know you section. A common questions are 'What are your hobbies?' or 'What do you do in your free-time?'(I'm trying to change that question in my students. How often do you find yourself asking those questions in conversation? If I'm unique in never using those sentences, please tell me. I'll have to reindoctrinate my students.) And a common answer is 'I go shopping.' Or 'I go to shopping,' depending on the level of the student. Now at this point I found myself wondering, shopping is a hobby? Shopping is a hobby in 90% of my students? That doesn't seem right....
However, a few days sightseeing in Osaka corrected my mistaken notion of what constitutes a hobby. In fact, I would go so far as to say that shopping is not just a hobby, but a lifestyle. Not only have I seen the biggest stores I've ever seen in my life, but I've seen more of them in one city than I ever thought possible.
To get to work Carl and I take the train. Most train stations are connected to huge overground and underground shopping networks. Not really malls because they spread out in all directions for miles on end. And for many levels up and down. Not to mention all of the separate shopping districts with covered streets and a maze of different shops. I think it would actually be possible to walk from one end of Osaka to the other without ever setting foot outside a shopping area.
For example, a walk down the street by my work goes something like this.
'Oh my God! Did you see what they had in the giant Apple store? ... No, the one across the street from Louis Vuitton. The one next to the Chanel store. ...No the other Chanel store, down the block. The one next to the Armani store. ... No the other Armani store! Aren't you paying attention?'
Or
'Oh my God! Did you see the giant United Colors of Benetton store next to the Balenciaga shop next to the Dior next to the Anna Mui next to the Calvin Klein next to the Burberry's next to the Jill Stuart next to the Ungaro next to the Givenchy next to the Ambercrombie and Finch next to the Feragamo next to the WOULD YOU LOOK AT THOSE SHOOOOESSS!!!!!!!!'
That was when I passed out from lack of oxygen. There are most of the shops we have at home plus all the ones I'd only heard of, in multiple, on the same block. It is hard to believe. Or take in all at once. I recommend going slow or risking shock. Or mountains of debt.
Speaking of shoes...
Shoes are an obsession here. I don't really want to go into fashion here. But suffice to say that Japanese women are some of the most fashion forward and fashion conscience consumers on the planet. And shoes play a big part of that. A really big part of that. I've been lusting after shoes ever since I got here.
Shoe sizes here are done in centimetres. Which is fine, I went online and did the conversion, then went shopping today to replace my poor beat up shoes. I wanted to replace them with some of the pretty, pretty, shiny shoes I see everywhere here. After finally screwing my courage up I approached the clerk and asked for my size. After some confused silence, they finally managed to tell me that the largest size they had was at least 3 cm smaller than what I wanted!!! Trips to store after store confirmed this horrifying truth. I have mutant feet. At least in Japan. And until I discover a new shopping area I will be doomed to covet, but never wear the pretty, pretty, shiny shoes.
NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (add the Shatner delivery of Khan!!, and you will get an idea of how deep my despair runs.)
On the plus side of shopping... Many men here are not afraid to embrace pink! Carl doesn't get it. But everyday we see business men with various shades of pink shirts and ties. I know that doesn't flow with the rest of this post, but Carl is truly confused and wanted me to mention it. I think it's all to get the girls. A reason that tends to explain a lot of choices made by men. :) However that doesn't explain the old man with lime green hair and a doll sticking out of the front of his pink sweater... However, fashion knows no age limits.
So that is Colleen in Osaka. Fashionless and shoeless. A problem I will have to solve soon. But until then look at me in my red shirt and jeans in all of our old and new photo links. Miss you all a lot, and look forward to hearing any comments or questions you may have about our blogs or Osaka.
But seeing as we went shopping today, I feel a need to vent. In our lessons we always do a warm-up/get to know you section. A common questions are 'What are your hobbies?' or 'What do you do in your free-time?'(I'm trying to change that question in my students. How often do you find yourself asking those questions in conversation? If I'm unique in never using those sentences, please tell me. I'll have to reindoctrinate my students.) And a common answer is 'I go shopping.' Or 'I go to shopping,' depending on the level of the student. Now at this point I found myself wondering, shopping is a hobby? Shopping is a hobby in 90% of my students? That doesn't seem right....
However, a few days sightseeing in Osaka corrected my mistaken notion of what constitutes a hobby. In fact, I would go so far as to say that shopping is not just a hobby, but a lifestyle. Not only have I seen the biggest stores I've ever seen in my life, but I've seen more of them in one city than I ever thought possible.
To get to work Carl and I take the train. Most train stations are connected to huge overground and underground shopping networks. Not really malls because they spread out in all directions for miles on end. And for many levels up and down. Not to mention all of the separate shopping districts with covered streets and a maze of different shops. I think it would actually be possible to walk from one end of Osaka to the other without ever setting foot outside a shopping area.
For example, a walk down the street by my work goes something like this.
'Oh my God! Did you see what they had in the giant Apple store? ... No, the one across the street from Louis Vuitton. The one next to the Chanel store. ...No the other Chanel store, down the block. The one next to the Armani store. ... No the other Armani store! Aren't you paying attention?'
Or
'Oh my God! Did you see the giant United Colors of Benetton store next to the Balenciaga shop next to the Dior next to the Anna Mui next to the Calvin Klein next to the Burberry's next to the Jill Stuart next to the Ungaro next to the Givenchy next to the Ambercrombie and Finch next to the Feragamo next to the WOULD YOU LOOK AT THOSE SHOOOOESSS!!!!!!!!'
That was when I passed out from lack of oxygen. There are most of the shops we have at home plus all the ones I'd only heard of, in multiple, on the same block. It is hard to believe. Or take in all at once. I recommend going slow or risking shock. Or mountains of debt.
Speaking of shoes...
Shoes are an obsession here. I don't really want to go into fashion here. But suffice to say that Japanese women are some of the most fashion forward and fashion conscience consumers on the planet. And shoes play a big part of that. A really big part of that. I've been lusting after shoes ever since I got here.
Shoe sizes here are done in centimetres. Which is fine, I went online and did the conversion, then went shopping today to replace my poor beat up shoes. I wanted to replace them with some of the pretty, pretty, shiny shoes I see everywhere here. After finally screwing my courage up I approached the clerk and asked for my size. After some confused silence, they finally managed to tell me that the largest size they had was at least 3 cm smaller than what I wanted!!! Trips to store after store confirmed this horrifying truth. I have mutant feet. At least in Japan. And until I discover a new shopping area I will be doomed to covet, but never wear the pretty, pretty, shiny shoes.
NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (add the Shatner delivery of Khan!!, and you will get an idea of how deep my despair runs.)
On the plus side of shopping... Many men here are not afraid to embrace pink! Carl doesn't get it. But everyday we see business men with various shades of pink shirts and ties. I know that doesn't flow with the rest of this post, but Carl is truly confused and wanted me to mention it. I think it's all to get the girls. A reason that tends to explain a lot of choices made by men. :) However that doesn't explain the old man with lime green hair and a doll sticking out of the front of his pink sweater... However, fashion knows no age limits.
So that is Colleen in Osaka. Fashionless and shoeless. A problem I will have to solve soon. But until then look at me in my red shirt and jeans in all of our old and new photo links. Miss you all a lot, and look forward to hearing any comments or questions you may have about our blogs or Osaka.
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Friday, May 13, 2005
The Garbageman Cometh
Still so many ideas swirling in my tiny brain that I want to share, but I have pictures to go with this one so...The Garbageman Cometh.!
One of the first things we noticed about our apartment was our garbage can...or cans. Just how complicated could trash get??? There was one large one and two smaller ones stacked on top of each other. And there were little labels with general descriptions of what went in each one and "garbage days are," but no dates were added. It's like being told there are very strict rules, punishable by electric shock, and then being told to guess what they are. Go ahead, guess...ZZAAAPPPP!! (Or maybe I was just a little stressed the first week here.)
At orientation we were eventually given the low-down on refuse in Japan. There are 3 basic types of garbage. Burnable, non-burnable and recyclable. What exactly falls into each category varies from area to area. And sometimes these categories can be sub-divided into as many as 21 different kinds trash before you can carry it to the curb.
Luckily we only had to worry about the 3 basic kinds of garbage. And we don't have to worry about a garbage day either. While the other apartments around us have obvious garbage days, as evidenced by the huge piles of garbage on the sidewalk some days, we don't. Just a garbage shack in the parking lot. Which is emptied each day. At 2:30. In the morning. Maybe I would prefer to have a garbage day.
Which brings me to the subject of garbage trucks. Aren't they cute! How could you not want to keep Osaka clean with little harbingers of cleanliness like that? They also come in pink!! These tiny little trucks patrol the streets day and night, picking up garbage wherever it may be. During the day they even play music. 'The Farmer in the Dell,' or 'Camptown Races,' or any of the old familiar ice cream man songs. When I first heard it I ran from the apartment with giddy glee. 'The ice cream man! The ice cream man! The ice cr....garbageman?' The cute pink trunk could barely lift my broken heart from the curb.
Yes, these cute little pastel vehicles play ice cream truck music all day. They also carry three people when making their rounds. One to drive, and two to get out and chuck stuff in the back. Three people crammed in that little truck, full of garbage, with a jack-in-the-box tune being cranked overhead. They are either all crazy or heavily medicated. Garbagemen and women of Osaka I bow before you! You are made of stronger stuff than I. All of this so that people feel happier and more inclined to keep Osaka clean.
And Osaka needs all the help it can get. It's not that it's a dirty city. It most certainly isn't. Osaka in general is very clean. But the amount of garbage that be produced daily is staggering. Because our tourist selves haven't been to the incineration facilities (which I hear are lovely this time of year) I can only guess based on the amount of waste I see everyday.
Now every industrialized country has this problem. But the amount of packaging and gratuitous knick-knacks I see added to every purchase (in this shopping happy society) boggles my mind. Every purchase goes in a separate plastic bag. Hot items get different bags from cold items. Sometimes they're wrapped in extra tissue or plastic. Sometimes there is extra plastic or tissue inside. If you buy a bag of candy, or anything similar, everything item on the inside is individually wrapped. And then there are the collectibles that are sometimes attached as an enticement to buy, and every piece in the inside is individually wrapped as well.
I bought a drink from the 7-11, which was put in a bag. On the bottle, in a bag, there was a tiny bottle in a box. In the bottle there was yet another bag. Inside that there was a small sample of the green tea used to make the drink. Inedible and useless and time consuming (ok I'm curious so sue me).
Another addition to the garbage parade are the specially boxed gift collections of, well almost anything you would ever like to give as a gift. Chocolate, cookies, glasses, playing cards, you name it. In a flat see-through box is a wide array of said item, and each item is, you guessed it, individually wrapped. And when you buy it, it gets extra gift wrapping. All of this garbage on a tiny island with so many people, that has to be justifiably anal-retentive about where and when and how you throw your garbage out.
In conclusion, I like the collection system, but not the consumption system. However it does seem to work in this highly free market economy that only charges me 8% tax on my paycheck... ... ... I love the Garbageman!
One of the first things we noticed about our apartment was our garbage can...or cans. Just how complicated could trash get??? There was one large one and two smaller ones stacked on top of each other. And there were little labels with general descriptions of what went in each one and "garbage days are," but no dates were added. It's like being told there are very strict rules, punishable by electric shock, and then being told to guess what they are. Go ahead, guess...ZZAAAPPPP!! (Or maybe I was just a little stressed the first week here.)
At orientation we were eventually given the low-down on refuse in Japan. There are 3 basic types of garbage. Burnable, non-burnable and recyclable. What exactly falls into each category varies from area to area. And sometimes these categories can be sub-divided into as many as 21 different kinds trash before you can carry it to the curb.
Luckily we only had to worry about the 3 basic kinds of garbage. And we don't have to worry about a garbage day either. While the other apartments around us have obvious garbage days, as evidenced by the huge piles of garbage on the sidewalk some days, we don't. Just a garbage shack in the parking lot. Which is emptied each day. At 2:30. In the morning. Maybe I would prefer to have a garbage day.
Which brings me to the subject of garbage trucks. Aren't they cute! How could you not want to keep Osaka clean with little harbingers of cleanliness like that? They also come in pink!! These tiny little trucks patrol the streets day and night, picking up garbage wherever it may be. During the day they even play music. 'The Farmer in the Dell,' or 'Camptown Races,' or any of the old familiar ice cream man songs. When I first heard it I ran from the apartment with giddy glee. 'The ice cream man! The ice cream man! The ice cr....garbageman?' The cute pink trunk could barely lift my broken heart from the curb.
Yes, these cute little pastel vehicles play ice cream truck music all day. They also carry three people when making their rounds. One to drive, and two to get out and chuck stuff in the back. Three people crammed in that little truck, full of garbage, with a jack-in-the-box tune being cranked overhead. They are either all crazy or heavily medicated. Garbagemen and women of Osaka I bow before you! You are made of stronger stuff than I. All of this so that people feel happier and more inclined to keep Osaka clean.
And Osaka needs all the help it can get. It's not that it's a dirty city. It most certainly isn't. Osaka in general is very clean. But the amount of garbage that be produced daily is staggering. Because our tourist selves haven't been to the incineration facilities (which I hear are lovely this time of year) I can only guess based on the amount of waste I see everyday.
Now every industrialized country has this problem. But the amount of packaging and gratuitous knick-knacks I see added to every purchase (in this shopping happy society) boggles my mind. Every purchase goes in a separate plastic bag. Hot items get different bags from cold items. Sometimes they're wrapped in extra tissue or plastic. Sometimes there is extra plastic or tissue inside. If you buy a bag of candy, or anything similar, everything item on the inside is individually wrapped. And then there are the collectibles that are sometimes attached as an enticement to buy, and every piece in the inside is individually wrapped as well.
I bought a drink from the 7-11, which was put in a bag. On the bottle, in a bag, there was a tiny bottle in a box. In the bottle there was yet another bag. Inside that there was a small sample of the green tea used to make the drink. Inedible and useless and time consuming (ok I'm curious so sue me).
Another addition to the garbage parade are the specially boxed gift collections of, well almost anything you would ever like to give as a gift. Chocolate, cookies, glasses, playing cards, you name it. In a flat see-through box is a wide array of said item, and each item is, you guessed it, individually wrapped. And when you buy it, it gets extra gift wrapping. All of this garbage on a tiny island with so many people, that has to be justifiably anal-retentive about where and when and how you throw your garbage out.
In conclusion, I like the collection system, but not the consumption system. However it does seem to work in this highly free market economy that only charges me 8% tax on my paycheck... ... ... I love the Garbageman!
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