A Capital Excursion

My first tourist trip to Tokyo. A retrospective post.

First of all, I meant to write this entry back when I first wrote about that horse. The whole REASON I dragged that poor horse into this blog was because I was thinking about it a lot on my Tokyo trip. Things seemed to flip from bad to good and back again fairly rapidly, that weekend.

I’ve noticed that this tends to happen pretty frequently when I don’t bother to plan ahead. That will go on record under ‘my own damn fault.’

We went to Tokyo on the three-day weekend of March 20th. My personal goals included visiting Hakone, possibly visiting Kamakura, and otherwise, just following along with what the group wanted to do.

On our first day, though, it became apparent that what the group wanted to do was go shopping. I like shopping, I promise. Only, I’m not used to going shopping very often, and I’m not used to paying boutique prices, and I’m really not used to the kind of shopping that requires me to either shuffle in a snaking line through a store or deck someone in the face in order to reach the bit of clothing I want to inspect. Tokyo was incredibly crowded because it was a three-day weekend and the weather was amazing. For the first time in months, we wished we were wearing shorts.

SINCE the weather was amazing, Harajuku was okay, because it was kind of an outdoor street area with lots of funky little shops, but once we started hitting the department stores, I couldn’t take it anymore. I felt bad for abandoning the group, but I had to escape. I grabbed a cool drink and made my way up across the bridge (apparently, cosplayers hang out there, but mostly on Sundays, and I was there on Saturday) and into Meiji Shrine, and I instantly could not have been in a more different place. I was glad I’d decided to get out, even by myself, and enjoy this parklike setting for our first 75 degree day a bit.

I got a call, though, not too far into my exploration, from The Other Georgian, who had been called back to Shiso for work the following day (this is lame, because shinkansen tickets to Tokyo cost like 300 bucks round trip, and she had gone on this three-day-weekend under the assumption that she would, you know, get to stay for more than one afternoon). The girls were rallying at a local pub and asked me to join them. I hurried back into the city streets, but not before I spotted at least one (maybe two?) weddings going on in the shrine.

We had a pissed-off-happy-hour bitching about how no one has our backs at work enough to give us a damn heads up about anything, not even “oh hey, yeah.. we’re gonna hafta ask you to work on Sundaay..” sometimes. And then The Other Georgian left and we went to Ginza to check out the new Abercrombie flagship store with CatJET’s friend, who works there.

Okay. I had never actually been in an Abercrombie store in my life (with one possible exception.. I might have taken a few steps into one in my local mall many years ago), much less a flagship, much less their latest pride-and-joy flagship in the middle of the most expensive shopping district in, like, Asia, or something.

When we walked in, I wasn’t convinced that we hadn’t accidentally stepped into a nightclub instead by mistake. There was a half naked male model on the first floor with whom we were encouraged/forced to pose while the door staff took a polaroid for each of us. There was nothing else on the first floor but the beginning of what we would soon learn is an eleven-story mural of mostly-nude muscular-but-preppy-looking white guys engaging in various kinds of sport activities.

We were ushered into an elevator, and assured that we need not reach for anything we wanted to look at, because that’s what the attendants were for. There must have been a model dancing on like every floor. Which was suitable only because the lighting was so low and the music was quite clublike. It was insanity. We browsed this luxury stack a bit, and I even snagged a little video (although, strictly speaking, photos are not allowed.. CatJET’s friend had my back.. check out this page for the photos from this weekend, and the video too).

We thought about going out that night, but actually since most of us had gotten up at like 4 to get the earliest train we could, we were pretty beat and ended up just going back to our guest house to crash after a quick and painful dinner at Yoshinoya (think like Waffle House style, only Japanese beef-bowl foods).

The following day was the day Heke and I were going to Hakone, to seek out the big fancy Yunessun resort onsen, where you can apparently bathe in things like tea, wine, or coffee, as well as your classic hot-spring facilities. Hakone is famous for its hot springs, so we figured we’d head out and do that. We decided to spend the morning at the Hakone open-air museum, which is like a big sculpture garden, before checking out the onsen. The others were headed for Kamakura to see the big Buddha.

The train, other train, and then switchback train to the place took approximately two forevers longer than we anticipated, but sitting on trains is kinda relaxing, plus there was nice scenery and good company, so it was no big deal. Except for the part where the switchback train was so packed we had to stand in separate doorways just to ride it.

The open-air museum was pretty freaking awesome, actually, but when we got to Yunessun, the line was unbelievable, and the place seemed full of kids. We gawked for a second, then decided it was going to be impossible to relax here, not to mention we would never, never be back in time to meet the crew for dinner. We figured, this is Hakone, there have to be hot springs everywhere, let’s find one.

So we set off. And we kind of just wandered, and that didn’t work out as well as we might have hoped. There’s that horse again… but lo, we found an awesome souvenir shop next to a Lawson’s where we asked directions (and received an awesome homemade-looking map of the area). We wandered some more, in the direction of what we hoped was an onsen.. the first place was just a public bath-house, but the at the next place, we hit the jackpot. It was a damn good thing, too, because by then we were getting chilly and sick of wasting time.

Tenoyu was awesome and decently priced, and so Heke and I were able to soak in all kinds of sweet tubs (aside from the large and oft-seen rocky pools, there were tubs made of wood, metal, and stone) in a classy outdoor garden area. The water seemed to be piped right out of the hillside and spilled into the pools super hot. If you’re ever lost in Hakone and need an onsen, I recommend it. Overall, it was much quieter than the other place, and seemed much more the classic style of open-air hot springs bath. We didn’t get to bathe in wine, but this might have been better (there’s that horse again…).

We took a bus back to the switchback train, which was blessedly a lot emptier. When we got to the main Hakone station, we had like five minutes before the “Romancecar” direct train to Shinjuku was going to leave. It was supposed to be a little cheaper (and a lot more direct) than our way in of shinkansen to other train to other train, so we got in line to buy tickets. The people in front of us were slow, and Heke and I were basically breathing down some old lady’s neck silently yelling to each other all the while, oh my lord, it’s not that hard to buy tickets from a machine, we have like two minutes and the next train isn’t for another 45, hurry the eff up…! I still giggle when I remember the look on the face of the poor old lady in front of us.. she glanced back to see if one of her companions could help her out, I guess, and she saw these two manic gaijin about to pounce. With a terrified look in her eyes, she insisted that we go ahead of her in line.

To our chagrin, the machine was really hard to figure out. But it also only charged us like 7 bucks or something, about 20 dollars less than we ‘should’ have paid for the 1.5 hours and distance we were going (if we were taking the shink, etc.).. but it said the name of our station, and we didn’t have time to argue with that, so we fled into the train and sat down just in time. Then we got to nap on our direct express train, once we finished hoping that the bar we’d seen on board was open (it wasn’t) and that the lady would come by offering food (she didn’t).

When we got to the station, there was some kind of problem with our tickets.. the station guy was kind of a douche to us. I guess that’s the other side of that 7-dollar horse..

Our Romancecar still got us back too late to eat dinner with the rest of the group, so we grabbed some fast food and munched it really fast while we got dressed to go out. We ended up going out to a gay club with someone’s friends, and it was really fun. Gay clubs are pretty sweet in that the music is almost always great, and there are far fewer sketchy dudes trying to sleaze their way into your pants.

The next morning, after a quick combini breakfast, we rolled into Shibuya for some shopping, and I went off to meet a college friend who now lives and works in Tokyo. After lunch, we made our way back to the crowded Tokyo station to buy our shink tickets for much later than we’d hoped. We camped out in the station for a while, got on the train, and tried to sleep our way home. When we got there, it was really late, we all had work the next day, and we wanted food. So we searched Himeji for a Yoshinoya, to no avail (although I later found it on the Himeji bike ride). Which is probably better for our health, anyway.

Finally, we trundled home, broke, exhausted, but with plenty of memories and new life lessons.

More kickin’ round Kyoto

Ah, Kyoto. Another weekend spent in your sunny embrace, but never enough time to have seen even all I wanted to. This is another retrospective post, from March 14th (White Day) weekend.

Just for the record, White Day is like the reverse of (Japan’s version of) Valentine’s Day. On Valentine’s Day, girls are supposed to give chocolte to people, mostly to co-workers (“obligation chocolate”) and also to boys they like (“real-stuff chocolate”). On White Day, dudes who have received chocolate return the favor in the form of presents or whatnot.

Highlights from this trip mostly include enjoying (pre-)spring Kyoto, exploring more of Fushimi Inari, and being present for the first night of the Kyoto spring light-up, which means they set up a bunch of lanterns and artwork for people to enjoy by night. We got to see KiyoMizuDera by night, and enjoy “pink things” (cherry-blossom flavored alcohol and strawberry daifuku) in Yasaka shrine area.

On the second day, we visited Arashiyama and went up to the monkey park, which was lots of kinds of hilarious.

Even got to see Nami-san for about twenty minutes (I wish that were an exaggeration..), which was enough time for her to make me the first non-family member to find out that she got MARRIED the week before..! No ceremony, just signing papers at the courthouse for their busy schedules, I guess!

Check out the photos from that weekend here.

always preparing

Well I can’t really believe it’s almost 3pm. Classes were canceled today for TooMuchRain! It occurred to me as I walked up the drive in the buffeting winds, that it might be a little harrowing for the students to be riding their bikes to school in this mess.

The rivers were all enthrallingly high. I’ve never seen school cancelled for rain, but apparently it sort of just happens sometimes, the way snow closes things down back home, I guess. Weather is a big deal when you walk or bike to school.

I’ve spent the day lesson planning, studying Japanese, editing stuff for the Hyogo Times, and working on e-mail (offline). It’s like that. You give me hours at a desk and I’ll give you… a clean inbox, or a whole week’s worth of plans. Or something. Maybe nothing at all! It’s nearly three and I’m not done.

I never am!

insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results?

I first started going to trivia in high school, because we liked to amass an enormous team of students and parents, take up an entire section, not really eat much food, and then (on the rare-ish occasions that we won) gloat over the team of three or four HS teachers whom we opposed.

Time and again I have made the mistake of thinking, hey, I’m pretty smart. I should be good at this! Time and again I end up just like my Vanderbilt Honors Seminar class.. clustered around a table full of nerds, hopelessly looking from one to the other as if to say, so.. no one knows anything about sports..?!

No one knows anything about sports. At least I don’t. Nor do I know anything about pop culture, at all, or politics, really, or news. I really suck at trivia night, but I always love to go. And I always talk a lot of trash which I half-believe by the time we start, to the point that I almost think we might be able to win..!

As could be expected, trivia nights in Japan are rare. Being English-speaking and all.. prohibits me from participating in Japanese trivia nights. If they exist. I suspect they do not.

But our lovely JET friends put together one bangarang trivia night for Saturday, and so we went, and we drank all we could drink, and we inevitably lost at trivia, but it didn’t matter because we still know we are smart. Plus we got “polder” right. And “tennis elbow.” And the food was good too.

Shiso Bound for Nunnery, aka team Dutchies

A few good ideas

Part of the reason I keep this blog is to disseminate information and ideas. When I arrived in Japan, my predecessor had left me so many materials and copies of her lesson plans, I had to do what was natural to me to continue a big paper (or digital) trail of what works (and what doesn’t) at work. I can still remember what it was like to sit down at my new desk and wonder, omg now what?!

Anyway, here are a couple things I discovered or reused recently:

Musical chairs – If you need to be able to single out a student to practice conversation with you, this actually could work well. It takes a lot of help from the homeroom teacher, but what I ended up doing in my 5th grade classes was make a long row of chairs back to back, the chairs numbering one less than the number of kids in the class. They move around the circle to the sound of American music until it stops. When it does, they sit down. It’s always funny because there is this scramble produced by the fact that a bunch of kids are so focused on making sure they have their butt near a chair that they leave open seats between themselves and the people ahead of them. Which other students who at first think, aw crap, I am the odd one out, suddenly spot and make a dash for.

Anyway, once everyone has a seat (or not), the seatless kid has to come and demonstrate the target conversation with me. Then they all have to practice the type of conversation demonstrated with the person whose chair is back-to-back with theirs. Seatless kid is free to gleefully spectate this part.

Concentration – The simple beauty of this game is that you can play with the whole class, and everyone has to pay attention the whole time. Too often when I am trying to do small group or individual stuff, those not in the spotlight see it as a great opportunity to slack off/talk to their friends/etc. But in concentration games (we recently did matching lower and uppercase letters) you can have one group at a time choosing a letter from those magneted to the board, and those who disregard others’ turns do so at their peril. I generally play in groups, although even there kids can sometimes get all overcome by shame and indecision.

 

Aaaand apparently, my “letter project” is about to get some press.. Mikan-sensei just asked me for copies of a few of the letters so he can include them in some kind of report he is giving. I’m totally flattered. I only wish we had gotten replies put together before American schools dismissed for summer! Alas.

I like [real] bananas

I keep hearing them talk about the upcoming to-ra-i-ya-ru week. I swear I thought it was “trial” only katakana-ized. Turns out, “try” is katakana, but “yaru” is just the other verb for “to do.”

Try-yaru week is when the second graders go out into the world and like.. work at jobs for a week. We ran into some at the Toyoko Inn where we stayed in like.. Hiroshima, or something. They were super cute.

Now our mice class is getting ready for theirs, toward the end of the month. I can only imagine the paperwork that goes into placing the students and prepping for all that.

I’m warming to the mice and they are warming to me. Most of them have finished writing their letters, although I’m well aware that the HS in America to which we’ll send them only has like four more days of school or something. I suppose they’ll have them when they get back from break..! I wish I had gotten my act together sooner, but alas.

I am eating Tokyo Banana omiyage from the cats’ class trip to Tokyo and Disney et al. I got a sweet Geiko-HelloKitty charm from the new school nurse. But from what I hear, Japanese people are crazy about the Tokyo banana little confections. I prefer real bananas. It’s kind of like grape-flavored things, and how they’re just not the same flavor as grapes. Only banana flavor might be worse.

I think the other souvenir tasty is full of redbean paste, though, which means it will be much more normally delicious. I’ll save it for tomorrow.

It is cool to be receiving omiyage I actually recognize, though.

In other news, it’s warm and zutto-rainy, and feels like springtime. The healthiness of my habits increases with the average temperature (to a point), so lately it’s been on the rise. More exercise and better food choices all ‘round.

Last week, I went to Akashi to conquer Stage One of Obtaining a Japanese Driving License. I don’t think my VP believed me when I told him how difficult it is (well, Stage Two is). Almost every foreigner fails at least once on the driving practical. A few famously failed like eight or ten times.

And not to be racist, but there are lots of people on the roads around here who totally cannot drive. That’s true in America, too, but I feel like if the test is going to be so freaking hard, it should mean your drivers are elite. But it’s like the SAT of driving tests. All it measures is how well you take a driving test full of nitpicky rules on a closed course. Everyone says, “oh, you’re a good driver, you’ll be fine.” I want to say, just because I am better than you doesn’t mean I’ll pass the test on the first try. But, that’s not a nice thing to say and would perhaps not further friendly relations betwixt my country and theirs. Even if it’s true.

I’m going to driving school this weekend, with a tentative reservation for the following weekend as well (CatJET took driving school three times but passed the test on her first go-round!)… so hopefully, that will help.

Akashi is supposed to be a fairly cool place, but I have a feeling way too many JETs remember it only as a place of waiting, and waiting, and inconvenience, and failure. I had thought to take a little tour of it the day I went, but the ‘easy’ part took way longer than I anticipated. So I didn’t.

In other news, my computer no longer has access to the network, which irritatingly means no printer and no internet access for me. I can use THAT COMPUTER at the desk no one sits at (where the teacher who quit used to sit).. basically I can use it anytime I want to, and I do when I need to print (I put my stuff on a flashdrive and ferry it over… this process is not foreign to me, from anytime I stay at my parents’). It’s still a pain in the ass.

Another part of me kind of likes it, as I am often overwhelmed by the immediacy of the internet. I have offline-gmail now, which means I can manipulate and respond to stuff and it gets uploaded the next time my computer connects to the interweb. And of course my blog client.

And of course I can study Japanese and write letters by hand, which I may do more of now that I will have a net of more free periods per week and a lot less internet.

Today is very comfortable.

Some days...

Your kids are fine, the weather is spectacular, the workload is moderate, lunch is tasty...

And you are still in a bad mood. For no good reason.

So it goes.

Himeji Riiiiide

A look back at a wonderful day.

I wrote this for the Hyogo Times (of which I am becoming Junior Editor!) although I need to pare it down. I figured the full version could be for you all.

Enjoy:

When I arrived in Japan, it was like college all over again. I was entering a new world, a world in which I did not yet have a life, so I threw my e-mail address at any and every list that sounded even remotely like something I would want to do at some point during my tenure. I'd heard the stories and I was determined not to suffer the indignity of not having enough to do.

Of course, after a while, things picked up, my job became involved, and I even made friends; in short, I got a life, which was bound to happen but which also cannot be rushed. Once I had 'a life,' I was still on everyone's mailing list, though, and occasionally, if work were slow, I would spend a few minutes quickly reviewing what activities and events were on offer. No, I would think, that's the weekend of Cat's birthday… no, that's all the way out in Tokyo. No, this one happened last week… In this way I absolved myself of the guilt I would otherwise bear picturing how crushingly disappointed these groups must have been at my absence.

I came upon an e-mail with did not include a date nor a location, but which did include the words "Hyogo," "bike," and "PEPY."

PEPY is an organization about which I knew a little bit. I'd seen their displays at some JET things (like orientation-- which is probably how I got that e-mail in the first place), but I'd read more about them while trying to educate myself about Cambodia and land mines. This is a topic in the middle-school English book, of course, and as such, I (the World Citizen) was going to give a knowledgeable summary of it to the rapt audience of my 2nd grade classroom.

There were two things I really liked about PEPY. The first was what I will call their 'attention to detail.' The organization is all about educating kids in Cambodia. But instead of just building schools and training teachers (which are admittedly important and which they also do), they also look into all these other factors that affect kids' ability to go to school and learn there. I remember reading about a water filter program that they implemented in villages which, once in practice, increased kids' attendance in school. They were getting sick less and going to school more. PEPY also has a program to give bicycles to older students to encourage them to continue on to high school; with a means of transportation, they are better equipped to get there. PEPY pays attention to how things work "on the ground."

The other thing that caught my attention was the PEPY tour. There are several different tours, but the basic idea is you travel around Cambodia in such a way as to be ecologically low-impact (so, you spend some time on a bike, for example) while seeing more than just the tourist attractions offered by the area. You can even do overnight homestays in village homes. This appealed to me simply because, while I love me some touristy stuff, I also like the feeling of getting a little off the main path, exploring what is 'real' about a place. PEPY tours are reasonably priced and come with a required donation; you're going to learn something, travel, and do something good. Win, win, win.

I sent an e-mail inquiring about time and location, partly because I was interested and I like PEPY, partly because I wanted to know if this would go gentle off my events radar. And hey, I liked bikes. I had one that I used to get to the bus stop sometimes, and I'd had one as a kid. I'd even had one in Nashville, for college! So what if I didn't ride my current piece further than the post office in my little inaka town? I could dismiss the event if it turned out to be a 100-km hill climb!

I more or less expected to hear any of the details and dismiss the event, though there was some chance that it would all line up with my schedule and ability level and allow me to participate.

What I did not expect was to be offered the opportunity to organize and plan the event myself. I wanted to, really, but I didn't know anything about bikes, or routes. My first mental image was a bunch of JETs cycling around my train-stationless town. Where are we gonna rent bikes here? I wondered.

The previous year's ride had been in Himeji, though, which was comforting in one respect (I know it can be done there) and difficult in another (what do I know about Himeji?). Providence had it in for me: I had recently made the acquaintance of Illustrator JET. Illustrator knows about bikes AND teaches in Himeji.

I wanted to plan a bike ride that would suit me. I figured, if we made something I could do, then anyone could do it. I also figured, in case no one else showed up to the event, I would at least have a fun and challenging day of biking. I also wanted to follow PEPY's tour example by making it a sort of tourist trip of less-well-known Himeji attractions. He knew Himeji's roads and attractions. He'd been on the previous year's bike trip and immediately was providing recollections and suggestions. We met one afternoon and plotted a route. He showed me which of the major roads had better sidewalks, and how there is a no-motor-vehicle-access path along parts of the Yumesaki River.

The rest is, as they say, history. April 17th was the day of the ride, and the weather was perfect. The cherry blossoms were in their late phase, which meant we got to ride through pale-pink blizzards. We visited a shrine near Himeji-jo, then rode around the castle to pick up the road headed toward the river. We stopped for lunch on the riverbank where we had bento contest winners (criteria: healthy and eco-friendly). We followed the river northward to Mount Shosha, where we enjoyed Temple Engyoji for a while before heading back down. A quick stop at my eikaiwa student's taiyaki shop, and we headed back into the city to conclude our trip with a visit to Tegarayama Park and the "dark castle" contained there. The park also offers a view of the soon-to-be-wrapped Himeji-jo! A few stragglers stuck around for milk ramen closer to the station.

The group was excellent, and ranged from serious bikers to people who hadn't even hopped astride one since they were kids. Everyone was energetic without being pushy.

Each participant was required to donate at least 2000 yen, which they could procure in any way they liked (it was a kind of don't-ask/don't-tell situation, you see), and beyond that the costs of the ride were 300 for the bike rental, 500 for entrance to Engyoji, and 900 for the ropeway up to the top of Shosha; these three were each optional in their own ways. We had a total of 17 participants, although some joined us later and a few ducked out early. We covered about 25 kilometers. All in all, the day was actually rather perfect.

Long term effects include the furikomi of 40,000 yen to PEPY, and my personal decision to invest in a bike not entirely made of rust. I hope that others who enjoyed the ride were positively impacted as well.

And for all those who missed out on the ride (I mean, you might have gone to Yoshino that day, or something)… keep an ear out for future PEPY bike events! The next might be in Himeji… or maybe not. Stay tuned.

Letterdrop

The day the letters dropped was almost more awesome than receiving them!

Today’s chaotic success was the culmination and combination of a lot of factors, and the efforts of a lot of people. I first flirted with the idea of a pen-pal type exchange as I spoke with my friend who is a 9th grade English teacher in Commerce, GA. I wanted to capitalize on my connections, and provide both his students and mine with opportunities they might not have if he and I weren’t teachers in America and Japan, and if we weren’t friends.

The problem was only that his Japan club has like 12 or 15 members. And I have 168 middle schoolers.

Back when Kermit-sensei was still around, he converted a textbook activity into a real letter writing exercise with me. Almost every student produced some kind of letter, which were then packed up and sent to Georgia.

Almost every letter got a response (once he pushed the opportunity on some of his non Japanclub kids who desperately needed extra credit).. but some got none and some got as many as three. I didn’t know how to hand out letters where one kid would get three and the kid next to him would get nothing, so I waited a bit.

But that issue wasn’t going to resolve itself, and this pack of letters was just sitting in my desk being a Great Opportunity and yet never getting to shine. There were four letters without students’ names on the top, so that helped. A few of the repeats were in pencil, and I confess that although tampering with mail is a FEDERAL OFFENSE, in the interest of pedagogical purposes, I may or may not have used an eraser and my best handwriting imitation skillz. It didn’t work, for me.. I could always tell which ones had been converted.

But I copied and wheedled my way into a letter for every kid. I was really excited about this, actually, but I had to wait because of scheduling and Golden Week and changes at work.

The old system of splitting English and math classes is “destroyed” for the 1st and 2nd year students. Instead of four periods of about 14 students, I get two of 28. (Because we are down a few staff members.. after the first few weeks, some dude just quit, and so everyone else has to cover that space in the staff scheduling routine) But it’s not just me; I am team-teaching these, AND both Miss Piggy-sensei and Newbie-sensei are joining each class. This is pretty awesome because they balance each other well. Miss Piggy’s English level is incredible, and Newbie is a fast thinker and always positive.

I was a bit nervous about throwing so many different letters at such a big class, but it went off awesomely. The kids suddenly had something in their hands that was meant (probably) just for them. The letters were often similar, but none (very few) the same. This creates a sudden and personal desire to know what has been written. Suddenly we’re translating not because it’s in the book and we have to, but because someone has sent us a message and we want to know what it says. The difference is paramount. They were all over the place, out of their seats, getting dictionaries and visiting desks, raising their hands to ask questions. I could have cried with joy.

I too really enjoyed seeing kids get responses. Some of them got affirmations (“I like baseball too!”) and others got questions which will make finding content for their reply easy (“What is judo?”). Some of them asked questions which were answered (even if negatively.. haha “I have never heard of ARASHI.”) .. but to feel heard, understood? Um, especially as a middle schooler struggling with an unfamiliar language? Effin’ priceless.

I expect them to write back, too, partly because it’s polite and we’ve waited too long to return responses to the kids in Commerce. And partly because I just want to see that they’ve processed what was given to them and made an effort at fielding a reply. My life is hectic, and so are theirs; the draft is due Friday.

Her name is China, and she’s beautiful.

And she, too, will change my life, but I feel like I say that about so much lately, it’s becoming a cliché.

Today the planets aligned, my motivation, cashflow, and ability to let go/make decisions all took exactly the right positions, and I biked to Jusco for toilet paper, knowing full well toilet paper doesn’t fit well in my bike basket.

In my old bike basket.

Originally, all I wanted was a bicycle not entirely made out of rust.

Okay so this isn’t actually a photo of my old bike in reality…

But after the Himeji ride and my extended borrowing of MiriJET’s bike, and after the weather began to change, I began to hurt for the bent-wheeled rusty creaky thing that was my bike. I had inherited it from Predecessor, who got it as a hand-me-down from one of the BOE people. Nice.

A few things began to up the stakes. One of them was the Himeji ride. My rental bike, for starters, on both the pre-ride and ride days was so much nicer than my old one. On this bike, I rode an estimated 25 kilometers. And it didn’t make me sore, or feel outside of my ability level. (Granted, I did it all over the course of a whole day)

The ride also brought me into contact with people who bike their commutes. A thing I would have considered unreasonable for myself, except that IllustratorJET’s commute is pretty much the same time as mine (his train, mine bus, both 20 min).

And, I see my boys doing it all the time.

Early on, it was just the badass crew. My graduated new HS students biking from the place where I work to around where I live. It warmed my heart every time I saw them from the bus window, in their little solidarity cluster, Ichinan freshmen.

But all of this broadened my ideas of what you can use a bike for, how far it can reasonably take you, and what that can mean.

When I first got Robin Red, I expressed joy at the newfound freedom. And indeed, I wouldn’t want to give her up. But I wanted to be able to explore more of the tiny roads and sprawling township around where I live. I wanted to be able to set off without a real destination, just to see where I could get to. Walking was too slow, driving too fast and nerve-racking on those tiny roads where you are going too slow for everyone if you don’t know what is up. If you’re biking, you don’t need a reason; you aren’t wasting gas and you aren’t in the way. You move faster than you can on your own, but you’re not inside of anything, so you feel the air move by and you’re really in it. Sort of like ground-flying.

Partly because of Jermaine, I began to think of biking as my go-to for how to spend a pretty afternoon. Pretty afternoons began to increase in frequency.

I did a little biking before, in Nashville which is in my memory Made Entirely of Hills (and so I’m confused to imagine it flooded—that shit is just surreal!).. which is probably why I think going for a bike ride requires more energy than you have and leaves you sore for days. And sometimes that is good. But I was seeking a different kind of freedom.

So I began to ask around, get information and ideas. I began to expand the image of what I wanted in this new bike of mine. More than just a shiny version of the old one (which is what I did when I replaced my camera this past week), I might want something with gears to handle the hills, a back basket for weight; when I went to the bike store in Himeji I discovered that they make lights that don’t make it even more of a fight to pedal because they are charged by an internal device in the wheel base (or something). I began to worry and obsess that the nearby Jusco or Namba would not have what I now required. I became convinced that I needed to get it from this sweet bike shop in Himeji.

This was a totally impractical plan because although their staff was great and the were clearly tip top in knowhow and selection, Himeji is about an hour drive. Robin Red, while lovely, is not big enough for a bike. The Asahi commitment to service and accessibility is such that they loan out a little K-truck to let people get their bikes home. But that would total up to like 4 hours of driving on whatever day I would want to get the bike. I looked at that prospect with sad horror and put it off and got scared and worried and obsessed and watched every pretty day go by with hungry eyes.

Until today when I said, enough. All I want is a glorified momochari anyway (I don’t actually know what that term means, only I think it refers to your classic standard bike that everyone has and which I also had in rusty form). I am going to get toilet paper and see, just SEE if there is nothing at all in Jusco that fits my minimum requirement.

She stood, tall and six-speed and glorious, and once I got the basket installed and the seat adjusted to my height, I felt like I could actually lean back like a gangsta with one hand on the wheel.

She is a CADILLAC OF BICYCLES.

Sooner, rather than later, I needed her in my life.

Hana me

Hanami is a special season in Japan. This is my retrospective.

First of all, I like the term. 花見 just means flower-viewing. But it sounds to me like HANA-me. (hana = flower) … like “Beer me,” only FLOWER ME.

Right.

Anyway, tis’ the season in March/April when the cherries are all a-blossom, and when we returned from Okinawa we landed right in the middle of full-explosion cherry storm.

The term mostly refers to the practice of getting a blanket, some snacks and drinks of your choice, and finding a nice place to sit and chill in a park for a while. From what I understand, it’s mostly meant to be a nighttime drinkfest, but I saw students doing it by afternoon, too.

I have to say I like the idea of a customary tribute to spring. In my life, spring has always induced a lot of regret, chiefly because that’s when school is ending, and that means two things. One, you’re beginning to run out of time. Two, you’re beginning to run into final papers and projects. I have acute memories of the physical pain I felt knowing it was So. Beautiful. outside, and I was trapped at my desk because I decided to write a thesis.

That it’s basically socially unacceptable to not spend a little time outside during hanami season is kind of nice. Especially for me, because it allows me to write off one thing in favor of OH LOOK I HAVE TO GO DO THIS CULTURAL EXPERIENCE (itISwhatI’mHereForAfterAll,Right?!)…!

One of the most popular places to be for this year’s hanami was Himeji Castle, since immediately thereafter, the castle was going under restorative wraps. It’s not yet covered, but I believe parts of it are closed. The Okinawa trip precluded us from hanging out with 80,000 of our closest flower-viewing friends (that is not a slip of the decimal.. there were that many), but I still got some tastes of hanami in my own little ways.

This season was (have I mentioned this before?) COLDER THAN NORMAL years, so hanami wasn’t exactly a sunny stroll in the park. I did not spend my afternoons post-work lolling in the shade of cherry trees drinking sake. Hah. You wish.

On April 6th, this was my river-path walk to work from the bus stop:

And on the 7th, we trundled down to Himeji Castle for night views from the Princess side of the park around the castle itself. Normally you have to pay to get in, but I guess we-about-to-close-this-shit-for-7-years-or-so makes it a special occasion. It was really freakin’ cold that night. I wore two pairs of pants and was glad to have done so.

Classic view. Which is really, really hard to shoot if you don't have a tripod and can't hold your hands still. This was the best I could do in like six thousand takes.

Himeji and her reflection.

Chiefly the reflection.

On the 8th, my school had lunch outside. It was an absolutely gorgeous day.

Yessss...

The post-lunch scurry.

My big kids hold baby bunnies at big elementary.

I also went on a random walk that afternoon.

A hana-tastic view of my town.

Find something new every day.

Then we had the scheduled Salamander hanami party at night. It was chilly, so we went inside fairly quickly.

Salamanders.

On the 13th I thought Jermaine was healed, so I tried to go for a jog. I ended up just going for a walk and taking lots of pictures.

Nature "gomi" (trash) litters the bank.

More nature gomi

High in the side of a hill, there is this shrine.. It's awesome. The wind was really going that day, too.

It is definitely one of my favorite shrines.

The end of the short, chilly, wet hanami season was marked by our Himeji Ride, as we biked through gusts of drifting petals. A pale pink blizzard, if you will.

Everything is changed

Sometimes it seems like things change so fast, it's hard to believe that the version of yourself on which you look back is barely a week old vision.

We roll back into Shisoshi to find it finally out of the grip of a freakishly Canadian spring (chilly/rainy) and well into its baby-green mountainside phase. We can leave the windows open. We can spread the nutella. Everything is different.

We return in the triumph of mid-spring, and the knowledge that Jermaine is dead, after 3 months, one week, and three days in this world.

I haven't said much about him in a while. The persistence of that remarkable burn has continued in the background. At times it has continued to get in my way. I didn't let him stop me from visiting hot springs in Hakone or Kinosaki. He made me want to get a bike rather than trusting my old shoes to take me jogging to escape the noise in my head. In Okinawa, I went snorkeling.. and had to wear just one flipper (along with my prescription mask since I forgot contacts.. win). I bought two new pairs of Jermaine-friendly shoes in Tokyo which vastly improved the quality of my life. The first pair of shoes were pretty terrible. They wore out quickly and painfully.

Exhibit A. Check out those plastic ridges. Those were only digging into the skin of my foot for like a month. I am lame for not buying shoes earlier.

My Tokyo shoes are still in pretty good condition. And they are cuter. And they were the same price. Thank you Harajuku shopping district, boo, Jusco, for your lack of selection.

My first outing in the new shoes on that freakishly nice day in March.

On Saturday, May 1st (how wild, how gay, the lusty month of May..?) I wore my real shoes and spent the entire afternoon walking through the streets of Hong Kong. After that, it hurt too much to wear my old silver 3-euro (actually free because I stole them from Ashers) slippers, so I relented.

On the night of Monday, May 3rd, I was in the shower in the second best hotel of the trip. The washcloth caught on the edge of Jermaine and I winced. But when I got out, the scab was gone, and there was no wound underneath, only pink scarred skin. And every ability to go out in real shoes forevermore, amen.

I like that Jermaine went for good as the last vestiges of winter did the same. I find that quite fitting.