...and shave, you never know when you're going to end up in a foreign hospital in the middle of the night.
Now before we go any further, everyone's alright. There is a happy ending to this story. However, let's just say I was inspired to talk about the difference between the Japanese and Canadian health care system due to a recent experience.
On a cold and damp December night in Osaka, Carl and I were settled down to an evening of junk food and B-movies. We were watching Open Water, a low-budget film that sort of reminded us of our honeymoon and each other, without the fighting and the terrifying stranding in the middle of the shark-infested ocean. At one point, I commented, "Hmmm...where'd this earache come from. I think I'm getting an ear infection." Ten minutes later, I thought, my throat is kind of scratchy. Ten minutes after that I casually commented, "My throat is closing up kind of fast."
Now by this point it was early morning and we were well immersed in the tragic tale of love and loss on the screen. Carl was suddenly finding it hard to focus and we were starting to brainstorm solutions to this kinda scary situation. There was no need to panic, I wasn't having trouble breathing, but my throat was swelling at a steadily alarming rate. We didn't want to call an ambulance, like I said there was no need to panic, but we did think I should see a doctor sooner rather than later. We started making phone calls; to work (the only night no one's there), our health insurance office (apparently 24 hours in Tokyo is less than 24 hours in Osaka), even the Canadian consulate (the numbers cannot be reached by cell phone and we don't have a land line). So we started walking. There had to be someone close by we could talk to. Down the block to the nearby retirement home, they couldn't help me, (I'm not that old yet!) but they did give us another number to call that went nowhere. Sigh. Down another block to another hospital, they were closed with no hours posted. Double sigh.
At this point, I should tell you that Japan does have a national health plan but private healthcare facilities (the hospital we ended up at is owned by the power company). I think this might have been affecting our ability to find open doors. As it was we went back home at 2:30am to reconsider our options. We finally decided to head the other direction to the nearby police box. We knew they were open. After all, if the police couldn't help us, who could?
We walked into the tiny smoke-filled room and told them that my throat was tight and I needed a doctor (in broken Japanese with lots of pointing of course). They got some information from me and started making calls. This was when I started learning Japanese swear words. As the policeman made phone call after phone call, and then pulled out the phone book and kept making phone calls, more and more of them ended with the phone slamming and the word "Baka!" spat out in disgust. That means idiot for all of you wanting to use that at home. This went on for over 30 minutes. Sometimes a few questions were asked before the phone was slammed. But as I was not dying, did not speak Japanese and am not a child my options remained limited. Finally the police gave up and called the ambulance, that's 1-1-9 here for anyone interested.
As I hovered somewhere between exhaustion and screaming frustration the ambulance came. At a leisurely pace the nonchalant attendants loaded me into the back of the bus, after I'd removed my shoes of course. Then they hooked me up to some equipment, took the temperature of my armpit, asked me more questions, but didn't really listen to the answers, and finally decided on a place to take me. The only time I managed to peak their interest was when my heart monitor started going wonky. Having a benign heart murmur can be fun at times. They were exceedingly casual as I obviously wasn't an emergency and, being free, ambulances get abused a lot. Sometimes people use them as a free taxi service to visit friends at the hospital.
We got to the hospital and walked into a dark and deserted waiting room. We went to a hospital without an emergency room, but with a night shift doctor who spoke English. As I sat down in the exam room they took the temperature of my armpit again with a thermometer that had seen better days, and then pulled out the tongue depressor to look at my throat. He also pulled out a small yellow camping flashlight. I thought he was going to start telling ghost stories for a minute but he used it to look down my almost fully closed throat. When I started choking on the tongue depressor he told me to relax, and if I could have talked I might have said something about getting a better light so he could ... nevermind.
He then told me that he was a GP, there was nothing he could do, I had to wait for a throat specialist. Then he gave me one Benydryl. At this point I should mention that most doctors in Japan are specialists and if you have a problem you go to the doctor with that specialty, not your neighbourhood GP. And of course the specialists didn't arrive until 8am. Sigh.
By this time it was 6:00am and I'm thinking, I could have, I SHOULD have, just stayed home. I have way better drugs there and a much more comfortable couch to wait on. But we had come this far. And we didn't even know where here was, or how far we were from home. So we waited in the plastic chairs in the deserted waiting room and watched insomniac patients make their rounds of the hospital. When I tried to speak, I choked and sounded like Marlee Maitlin. Carl was alternating between uncomfortable snoozing positions and worrying over me. What were we doing here?
After a while some older women walked in and sat down, obviously waiting for the hospital to open. We had been told to wait until the front desk opened at 8. But at 7:30 there was a sudden line-up in front of two machines that spit out little bits of paper. But we waited like good little patients until just before 8 when one of the attendants gave us a little bit of paper and told us to go upstairs at 8. We weren't sure how this would conflict with our earlier instructions but at 8 someone came downstairs and called us upstairs, so we went.
I quickly got in to see the doctor. He also spoke English and asked all the usual questions. Then he gave some nasal spray and held up a machine and said "I have to look at your deep throat." I opened my mouth obediently (OK, you reading this blog - the one in the corner. Yeah you. Go wash your brain out with soap right now! You know who you are!). But he shook his head, the tube was going down my nose. He then told me that my throat was almost completely closed and that I had acute laryngitis. Huh. So that's what it's called when choke on your own throat tissue. At least that's what I might have said if I could have talked. My vocal abilities were nil at this point.
Things started to move fairly fast then. I was admitted to the hospital and given a private room and an IV. I was whisked around the hospital by a lovely nurse with no English, but who was clinging bravely to a medical book with English subtitles, as I went from exam room to exam room. I was grateful that I'd just shaved my legs as I went from x-ray to EKG to blood test and back again trying to undress and dress around my IV bag. Why did I need x-rays and an EKG for a throat infection? Who knows, I couldn't ask. Finally they told me that they wanted to keep me overnight, possibly for many days while I got better. By this time the meds in my IV had kicked in and I could croak in the voice of a tracheotomy patient, "Days?" I could stay for one night, Carl had already called in sick for me, but days? For laryngitis? I resolved to fight this injustice - later. After I'd slept. Carl and I had been up since before work the previous day, and Carl still had to work that night. It was just past noon. I sent Carl home to get some sleep. We got some giggles from the nurses when we kissed goodbye, then I went back to my room.
I promptly faded in and out of consciousness from a combination of exhaustion and the fun antibiotics and anti-histamines that were pumping into me. I was interrupted by lunch, a doctor wanting to practice English, my doctor, the administrator of the hospital (I was only the third foreign overnight patient that the hospital had ever had, kind of a celebrity) and the nurses every now and then. Carl came back after visiting hours to give me a much welcome change of clothes and pajamas and other overnight essentials. I later learned that chopsticks would have been a good idea as patients have to bring their own utensils to eat with. Luckily there was a small stock of plastic utensils for me to use.
One good night's sleep later and I was myself again. Using my newly returned, but just as unable to communicate voice, I slowly laboured over the answers to the same questions. Yes, I feel fine. No, my throat doesn't hurt. Yes, I understand you but I don't know how to make you understand that I understand you. After I convinced my doctor there was no need to keep a healthy patient in the hospital (there was also no need to keep a laryngitis patient in the hospital, but private hospitals have to make money somehow) I received my walking papers. Well, they brought me a week worth of meds and stuck that tube down my nose again, and then they sent me to the front desk to be billed. Yikes! Maybe I should have stayed in the hospital. Wait, then the bill would have been higher. Ignore my circular illogic.
We're on travel insurance. If we were on the national health plan, all of this would have been covered, with maybe a small co-pay on the drugs. However, with our work-sponsored travel insurance we had to pay upfront. Luckily we'd gotten paid the night before or I might have had to work in the hospital kitchen to get out. Over 2 weeks salary, gone.
Again, there is a happy ending. We were fully reimbursed from our insurance company two weeks later. Everyone had a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and I can still speak and sing. Speaking of which I have recently done so in a recording studio, for a 'soon to be for sale across Japan' CD ... but that's for another blog.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Happy New Year
It is the New Year and time to reflect on what went on in the year before and write down hopes for the new one. Carl and I have been here for almost 10 months. We have watched spring, summer, autumn and now part of winter come and go in Japan. We've celebrated our favourite holidays (April Fools and Thanksgiving. Guess which one matches which person!). We've celebrated Carl's 31st birthday and my 30th. And now Christmas and New Year's in our adopted country.
Why would we do this? What have we learned? When are we coming home? No, seriously, why are we doing this?
Some things we've learned on our Japanese Adventure....
1) Sushi really does taste better in Japan. However, this only applies to restaurant sushi. The stuff you buy at the grocery store tastes about the same, but you're going to get more variety here. They don't often package roe and octopus at the Calgary Sobey's. However, when done by a professional chef, it's like ... it's like ... really good raw fish? Words cannot describe the tender, melt-in-your-mouth sensation of eating something killed just seconds before in front of you.
2) Drinking to excess is not just the domain of underage teenagers and 20 year olds (the legal age in Japan) having their first beer or sake. It can be the unfortunate pastime of businessmen in black suits. Entertaining clients can be hazardous to your health here. It can also cause you to spend a number of nights sleeping on a train station floor or city sidewalk. Luckily, it's common enough that no one will disturb your sleep. Also, all you can drink for one flat rate is a bad idea for foreigners who try and get the most bang for their buck...Carl.
3) Humidity sucks. It's worse than windchill, it's worse than waking up with a cat on your face, worse than having a drunk businessman breath on you. However, in summer everyone understands why you walk around with a towel around your neck here.
4) Japanese is a damn difficult language. Two phonetic syllabaries and over 10 000 kanji words makes even attempting to read the language almost impossible. I say almost, because other people braver than me have managed to accomplish this task. This is my way of saying, no, I don't speak Japanese. Maybe that will be one of my resolutions this year; to try, try again. Maybe.
5) You can make friends anywhere. Especially Japanese friends, as I've met some of the friendliest, funniest people anywhere here. However, friends who understand your quirks, people who know what you mean when you start speaking gibberish, people who love you for who you are unconditionally, take time and luck to have in your life. I am lucky to have so many of them in Calgary and I miss you all terribly.
However, I will have to miss you all a little longer. Carl and I will be staying a few extra months here, enduring yet another summer of humidity hell. We'll be back before Labour Day, but I don't know when exactly. We still have a lot to see and do here. We still have to see Sapporo and Tokyo and, most importantly, Tokyo Disneyland. We will continue to update you on our adventures (hopefully more frequently).
One thing I have learned this year is that there is no feeling like accomplishing a life-long dream, no matter what the result is. I hope that all of you get to experience that in the new year. Happy New Year everyone!!!
Why would we do this? What have we learned? When are we coming home? No, seriously, why are we doing this?
Some things we've learned on our Japanese Adventure....
1) Sushi really does taste better in Japan. However, this only applies to restaurant sushi. The stuff you buy at the grocery store tastes about the same, but you're going to get more variety here. They don't often package roe and octopus at the Calgary Sobey's. However, when done by a professional chef, it's like ... it's like ... really good raw fish? Words cannot describe the tender, melt-in-your-mouth sensation of eating something killed just seconds before in front of you.
2) Drinking to excess is not just the domain of underage teenagers and 20 year olds (the legal age in Japan) having their first beer or sake. It can be the unfortunate pastime of businessmen in black suits. Entertaining clients can be hazardous to your health here. It can also cause you to spend a number of nights sleeping on a train station floor or city sidewalk. Luckily, it's common enough that no one will disturb your sleep. Also, all you can drink for one flat rate is a bad idea for foreigners who try and get the most bang for their buck...Carl.
3) Humidity sucks. It's worse than windchill, it's worse than waking up with a cat on your face, worse than having a drunk businessman breath on you. However, in summer everyone understands why you walk around with a towel around your neck here.
4) Japanese is a damn difficult language. Two phonetic syllabaries and over 10 000 kanji words makes even attempting to read the language almost impossible. I say almost, because other people braver than me have managed to accomplish this task. This is my way of saying, no, I don't speak Japanese. Maybe that will be one of my resolutions this year; to try, try again. Maybe.
5) You can make friends anywhere. Especially Japanese friends, as I've met some of the friendliest, funniest people anywhere here. However, friends who understand your quirks, people who know what you mean when you start speaking gibberish, people who love you for who you are unconditionally, take time and luck to have in your life. I am lucky to have so many of them in Calgary and I miss you all terribly.
However, I will have to miss you all a little longer. Carl and I will be staying a few extra months here, enduring yet another summer of humidity hell. We'll be back before Labour Day, but I don't know when exactly. We still have a lot to see and do here. We still have to see Sapporo and Tokyo and, most importantly, Tokyo Disneyland. We will continue to update you on our adventures (hopefully more frequently).
One thing I have learned this year is that there is no feeling like accomplishing a life-long dream, no matter what the result is. I hope that all of you get to experience that in the new year. Happy New Year everyone!!!
Friday, October 28, 2005
Food, Glorious Food!
Hello boys and girls,
This post was supposed to be published around Thanksgiving as a look into our lives around that time of food and togetherness. However, between some schedule changes, overtime, and general laziness I'm only getting around to it now. However, it is still chock full of fun facts, witicisms and is 100% fat-free!
Obviously one of the biggest differences between Canada and Japan is the food. Traditional meals in Japan consist of rice, fish, and miso soup. Morning, noon and night. Dinner might also include some pickled vegetables or some noodles, but otherwise that's it. However, since the days of European contact (when even the British complained the food was bland and boring) food has changed somewhat. The biggest difference can be found in the amount of junk food now consumed. Junk food not only includes things like Pocky, Foam, Fran and Carl (my favourites are cheesy and salty Carl!), but also dried salted fish, chocolate croutons, and green tea flavoured everything (my favourite being Hagaan Das Green tea and Kuromitsu (brown sugar) ice cream sandwich, mmmmmm).
Condiments and garnishes and other food accompaniments are also unique. A popular topping is mayo. It goes on everything; salad, eggs, cooked veggies, pizza, and the famous Osakan food, okinomiyaki (eggs and veggies and meat pancake). However, according to Carl's students, he was the only one to ever buy and like wasabi flavoured mayonnaise, although we might bring some home with us.
Right behind mayo in terms of popularity is kerneled corn. Sweet corn niblets go with everything too, especially pizza. One of the most popular pizza combos is seafood and corn, with mayo of course. Even if you specifically ask for it to be removed it comes with, because who doesn't like sweet, hot corn and cheese!
Corn salad is probably just as popular as cornflake salad. Both are mostly sold as bar snacks too. Yes, cornflakes make the perfect addition to everything from salad to yogurt to ice cream sundaes. And while you're at it, throw in some maple syrup too, for an extra special treat. For many of my students, Canada is the land of snow, Niagara Falls and maple syrup.
Along with the junk food habit, Japan has also acquired a few other bad habits. Bread here is big, fluffy, white chunks of sweet, soft, nutrition free goodness. I mean really big. A sandwich made from this bread could feed a family for a week. However, most sandwiches are made from paper thin slices of bread stuffed with corn, mayo, egg and fried meat of some sort, maybe with some seaweed added for extra flavour, and with the crusts cut off. There are even regional differences in bread; Osakans tend to like their toast soft in the center so they make the thickest bread. One loaf often contains only 5 or 6 slices.
White flour is everywhere here, in every form. Cream puffs, pastries, buns, buns filled mayo and noodles, buns filled with mayo and noodles and corn. The list goes on.
To counteract this glut of fiber-free flour, the traditional Japanese food natto is eaten. Natto is often foisted on foreigners here the way the Australian shove Vegemite at the unsuspecting. Only the brave and foolish walk down that path. Natto is fermented soybeans with the texture of sticky spiderwebs and the smell of ripe blue cheese. Like many foods, you have to wonder how people come up with the idea of eating it in the first place.
"What's for dinner?"
"Soybeans. Grab me that pot in the corner."
"You mean the one that hasn't been moved in a month and smells like Grandpa's feet?"
"Don't sass me! Just mix it in with some rice and you won't even know what you're eating."
"But Grandma it feels like there's a rock in my stomach."
"Are you dead yet? No? Then it's good for you!"
And as always, Grandma knew best. Or maybe the conversation went more along the lines of two kids double-dog daring each other to eat it. You never know. But now natto is as common as all the other popular fermented foods here, like miso and sake, mmmmm sake...
Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving enjoying more traditional Canadian foods like turkey neck and giblet stuffing. May we all be united in a feeling of unity and thankfulness with our fellow man and our omnivorous stomachs.
This post was supposed to be published around Thanksgiving as a look into our lives around that time of food and togetherness. However, between some schedule changes, overtime, and general laziness I'm only getting around to it now. However, it is still chock full of fun facts, witicisms and is 100% fat-free!
Obviously one of the biggest differences between Canada and Japan is the food. Traditional meals in Japan consist of rice, fish, and miso soup. Morning, noon and night. Dinner might also include some pickled vegetables or some noodles, but otherwise that's it. However, since the days of European contact (when even the British complained the food was bland and boring) food has changed somewhat. The biggest difference can be found in the amount of junk food now consumed. Junk food not only includes things like Pocky, Foam, Fran and Carl (my favourites are cheesy and salty Carl!), but also dried salted fish, chocolate croutons, and green tea flavoured everything (my favourite being Hagaan Das Green tea and Kuromitsu (brown sugar) ice cream sandwich, mmmmmm).
Condiments and garnishes and other food accompaniments are also unique. A popular topping is mayo. It goes on everything; salad, eggs, cooked veggies, pizza, and the famous Osakan food, okinomiyaki (eggs and veggies and meat pancake). However, according to Carl's students, he was the only one to ever buy and like wasabi flavoured mayonnaise, although we might bring some home with us.
Right behind mayo in terms of popularity is kerneled corn. Sweet corn niblets go with everything too, especially pizza. One of the most popular pizza combos is seafood and corn, with mayo of course. Even if you specifically ask for it to be removed it comes with, because who doesn't like sweet, hot corn and cheese!
Corn salad is probably just as popular as cornflake salad. Both are mostly sold as bar snacks too. Yes, cornflakes make the perfect addition to everything from salad to yogurt to ice cream sundaes. And while you're at it, throw in some maple syrup too, for an extra special treat. For many of my students, Canada is the land of snow, Niagara Falls and maple syrup.
Along with the junk food habit, Japan has also acquired a few other bad habits. Bread here is big, fluffy, white chunks of sweet, soft, nutrition free goodness. I mean really big. A sandwich made from this bread could feed a family for a week. However, most sandwiches are made from paper thin slices of bread stuffed with corn, mayo, egg and fried meat of some sort, maybe with some seaweed added for extra flavour, and with the crusts cut off. There are even regional differences in bread; Osakans tend to like their toast soft in the center so they make the thickest bread. One loaf often contains only 5 or 6 slices.
White flour is everywhere here, in every form. Cream puffs, pastries, buns, buns filled mayo and noodles, buns filled with mayo and noodles and corn. The list goes on.
To counteract this glut of fiber-free flour, the traditional Japanese food natto is eaten. Natto is often foisted on foreigners here the way the Australian shove Vegemite at the unsuspecting. Only the brave and foolish walk down that path. Natto is fermented soybeans with the texture of sticky spiderwebs and the smell of ripe blue cheese. Like many foods, you have to wonder how people come up with the idea of eating it in the first place.
"What's for dinner?"
"Soybeans. Grab me that pot in the corner."
"You mean the one that hasn't been moved in a month and smells like Grandpa's feet?"
"Don't sass me! Just mix it in with some rice and you won't even know what you're eating."
"But Grandma it feels like there's a rock in my stomach."
"Are you dead yet? No? Then it's good for you!"
And as always, Grandma knew best. Or maybe the conversation went more along the lines of two kids double-dog daring each other to eat it. You never know. But now natto is as common as all the other popular fermented foods here, like miso and sake, mmmmm sake...
Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving enjoying more traditional Canadian foods like turkey neck and giblet stuffing. May we all be united in a feeling of unity and thankfulness with our fellow man and our omnivorous stomachs.
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....
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