Helpful Shit: Getting to the City (and beyond)

I'm amazed at the amount of stuff I now treat as common enough knowledge in my life that I simply did not know upon arrival.


Like that the main station of Kobe is Sannomiya station, not Kobe station, although there IS a Kobe station, it probably isn't where you want to get off the train (unless you're going to Motomachi I guess)...

And I've gotten to a place in my life where I just kind of know how to get to the helpful information I want to use by either google searching key words in Japanese or linking through a series of steps that are natural to me. But it's high time I gathered these transportation links into one place for easier access (both for my own benefit, and anyone preparing to or continuing to live in Shiso).

Searching up directions to Shiso on a google map will give you some alarming results, based mostly on our lack of trains. It'll say something like, train as far as Shingu, then walk forever to get to Shiso.

But around here, the word to know is Shinki Bus, and that sucker will get you most places that you need to go. Unfortunately, their website is still Japanese only, but if you can operate in Japanese (or make your way though a google translate version), you are good to go.

Most especially the navi feature, which like hyperdia does for trains, allows you to put in your departure and arrival locations to search bus times. It'll give you several of the upcoming buses as well as the cost of travel. I have used this basically just to figure out bus times from Himeji to Yamasaki and back, but I'm sure it can be even more useful than that so long as you know the name of the bus stops you want to use. This is a local bus so it doesn't have luggage space underneath like the highway buses do.

Then, there are the highway buses, most often used by me being the Osaka and Kyoto buses. The line goes from Tsuyama to Osaka and Kyoto but their uses are different.

The Osaka bus is way more frequent any way easier to use. It goes by almost every half hour or so, and to get on you just.. get on. Take a little ticket showing that you got on at stop like 9 or so, and keep it til you get to the end. The bus terminates at Osaka station, but pro tip if you are going down to Namba or Shinsaibashi areas, it's easier and a tiny bit cheaper (not enough to really matter.. the best thing about doing it this way is more the avoiding of the massive entity that is Osaka Station City) to get off at Shin-Osaka rather than Osaka Station and take the red line subway downtown.  On this bus it usually takes about two hours to get to Osaka.

The Kyoto bus only runs four times a day in each direction, and you have to buy the tickets in advance (I've gotten away without doing so, but it always seemed like a big deal to the driver). The easiest way I've found to do this is to roll up to Lawson and use the machine, because reserving online and then paying for them seemed to be a bitch. If you do this, though, you have to select the bus line first, so make sure you say you are going from Tsuyama (which is in the Chugoku region, not Kansai!) to Kyoto first, then later you can specify that you are getting on the bus in Yamasaki. The machines can be a little confusing and I mostly navigate it as I go each time on sight.

There is also a Tottori bus, which runs from Himeji to Tottori with a stop at Yamasaki inter. I don't know anything about this other than that it exists and some people I know have taken it before.


After that, there is the fairly new but apparently popular direct bus from Yamasaki to Kobe's Sannomiya Station, affectionately known to us as just "the Kobe bus." Unlike the other highway buses, this one leaves directly from the in town bus station, so you don't have to meet it at the highway gate unless you want to.

If you are driving, and planning to take the highway, and want to know how much that will cost you, check out this page, which can help you figure out your toll cost based on where you are going and what type of car you drive.

Flying? There are a bunch of small airports in the area, but I've only ever used Kobe, Itami, and of course KIX (kankuu) myself. I've heard good things about Okayama, and I know Tajima has an airport, but I don't know what it's used for. There is no longer a direct bus along the Tsuyama-KIX line, sadly, but from Himeji station you can get buses to both Itami and KIX. Kobe airport is accesses by the Port Liner, which runs from Sannomiya, which you can get to by direct bus.

Domestic flying in Japan is a breeze compared to doing it in the US, especially out of one of the smaller airports. There is security and paperwork, but it's nothing like the clusterfuck I'd learned to expect from flying. You can even bring your water bottle so long as you let them open it and check the contents (by machine but sometimes by smelling!). Skymark (Kobe) has some cheap fares, but the new carrier Peach (KIX) is even lower. There's always ANA and JAL, which you can sometimes get deals on too (I think we used someone's "birthday fare" once?). Sometimes it is cheaper and faster to fly to a place than to take a shinkansen (king of trains), sometimes not. If comfort and flexibility are a priority, shink is the way to go. If you need to save money, check out flights but also remember the cost of getting to and from the airport in your figuring!

International flights are predictably a bit more painful, and depending on where you are going, will cost a pretty penny more. Going international from Japan is almost always a flight, though there are some boats. To Korea, boat is a good option, but that's the only one I know. For Southeast Asia, I've had good experiences with the bare-bones low-cost style of AirAsia, though you may have to fly through Malaysia or something to get where you want to go. It's super cheap, but just know that the fare you are browsing does not include your baggage, food, or any other perks: those you have to add on as you go. Once you do, it's still pretty dern cheap.

My final confession on this topic will be that I've spent way too much of my life checking out the different options for how much it costs to get where by what different forms of transportation. 

The "fake" PEPY Ride and Engyoji again

The bike ride got postponed for all-day rains on November 19th. The caused us to lose most of our ride population. Over the last few years, we've had around 17 or 19 people every time. This fall we had 6.

But for the one-day reprieve, I was secretly relieved. I was sick with a cold after KobeConference, and the last thing I wanted on Saturday the 19th was to drag my ass out of bed into the rain to lead a bike ride. So I happily did chores, laid around, coughed a lot, and did some work online on things on Saturday, and felt much more ready Sunday to take on Himeji Riiiide.

Unfortunately, I was camera-less even then, though I did have my phone (which takes, it turns out, fairly decent photos!), so I don't have a huge album of ride photos like I do from previous events.

From Himeji Ride November 2011

Honestly, with only 6, this was the smallest (and chillest) ride I've ever been on (or led). We biked in leisurely fashion from Himeji Station up to Shosha. Engyoji, the temple on top of Mt. Shosha, is the 27th temple of my pilgrimage. And to me, it felt like a real pilgrimage. At least much more than driving would have, anyway. Under my own physical power, I pushed up to that mountain. Climbed it too!

From Himeji Ride November 2011

Compared to other temples on the route, Engyoji is basically my backyard. I've been there many times before, and will likely go again; Engyoji is an old friend.

This time, I was armed with a little more information (thanks to sacredjapan.com) about the things I'd been seeing and wondering about for years, especially those images lining the path up the hill that we always climb. They are models of all the 33 images at the 33 Kannon temples of the pilgrimage!

For example, from a spring ride.

From Himeji Riiiiiide

The fall color was pretty nice, and it was Momiji Matsuri (Maple Festival), so a lot of buildings were open that are normally closed to public view. It was also 3-5-7 Day down in Himeji, so we got to see a lot of adorable children in their finest duds.

As we climbed the mountain, we saw the sacred hymn of this temple written on a rock about halfway up. The climb and bike ride combined pretty much killed my knee, but I've recovered by now.

Engyoji is temple 27 on the circuit, and it was my third stamp-and-seal attended temple. Unlike the other temples, where I was a guest and curious onlooker, at Engyoji I am a regular pro. I am shy at the other temples, but here I waltz right in and start chatting (silently) with Buddha. Engyoji, unlike the other temples, speaks back to me quickly and easily, the way you can shout a brief message to someone you know well as they hurry out the door, but it would be rude to do that to someone you just met. Engyoji, unlike the other temples, gives me a response and an injunction. I light my incense, take my message, ask my question, get my answer, and go on to finish leading my bike tour.

It was a gorgeous day, lots of sunshine, everything clean from the previous day's rain. I suppose I would call it more of a personal success than a fundraising goal-meeter, but that's how it sometimes goes.

Em writes things...

I have decided to try to do a little more networking between all the different things I write in different places. So, I'ma share this too!

You'll get some more on PEPY in the coming months...as we prepare to take a tour with them in Cambodia (as opposed to lead one in Himeji)!

PEPY Ride Hyogo (aka, the article I write like every six months to promote my bike ride event)

Sakura, Sakura

Sakura in Japan is a big deal.

In English, we say “cherry blossom” for the flower, and “cherry” for the fruit. The fruit is the thing; the blossom is just how you get there. In Japanese, precedence goes the other way: the blossoms are sakura, and the cherries perhaps later produced are sakuranbo, the natural result of having sakura. But sakuranbo, I should mention, aren’t as big or juicy or sweet as the imported American big-ass cherry, or black cherry, or whatever.

First blooms, school driveway.

From Hanami 2011

But what makes the sakura so damn special? Why does it become the flavor of every consumable food and drink imaginable ‘ere springtime approacheth? Why does the weather start to carry bloom forecasts along with sun and rain? Japan loves the sakura for a number of reasons. One is the brevity of the blossoms: sakura blooms in an area for about one week before the petals start to drop. It’s kind of symbolic of the preciousness of youth and beauty, how shit fades really fast, and you gotta enjoy it while it’s there. I think the other reasons are that it signals the start of real spring. Sakura opens when the sun makes it warm enough, so normally, sakura time is open-windows, outside into the sunshine time.

From Hanami 2011

Last year, hanami season was right after I returned from spring break in warm sunny Okinawa. Last year, hanami season was cold as a bitch. We bundled up in coats and gloves and shivered in the dark outside Himeji-jo, snagging some good photos just before the castle went under tarps, and then hurried home to turn on heaters and crawl under blankets.

Himeji Castle hanami, 2010.

From Hanami

Hanami is supposed to be lying back on blankets, setting up BBQ pits on riverbanks, sipping sake in the warm sunshine (or in the evening, under lamplit trees). It’s supposed to be the way people enjoy the lovely warmth of spring.

From Hanami 2011

Last year, I didn’t really get into sakura season, partly because I returned from Okinawa and everything was in full bloom, and it’s only downhill from there. I was too busy with the new school year and post-vacay catchup to really go and enjoy them, plus there was the Cold of Winter-Ling’ring. I preferred, I found, the new-formed leaves of later spring, the robust appearance of the healthy living green that covered the hillsides after hanami-season was over.

Kagoshima, Yoshino Park

From 2011_04_02

But this year, it’s a little different. I spent spring break in Kagoshima, where at the time sakura was just blooming down there. Sakura bloom moves like a wave over Japan, starting down in Okinawa in like February, and moving up to Hokkaido by May. They’re blooming now around here, with the ones higher up in the mountains in full bloom maybe today, while the stuff closer to sea level was full-bloom about last weekend.

Center Ichinomiya

From Hanami 2011

Those gnarly, unimpressive trees draw the sap up from where they sent it to hide during the effing-cold of the winter months and their very first act is an explosive orgiastic excess of pale pink petals. The landscape is bare except for evergreens, the last of the plum blossoms, and then the ridiculous fervor of the sakura, branches nearly invisible beneath the blanket of blossoms.

From Hanami

They’re thick with the blooms, like cloud puffs of light pink. It goes well with the light blue of the sky, really. So this year, I like the sakura. I like looking out the window of the bus and seeing them like signatures across the mountainsides. I like the way they are just everywhere, their visual mating call resounding, each to each, as they line roads, riverbanks, fields. You don’t have to go to a festival or special place to ‘view’ them, because they’re along the driveway to work, and they’re along the river that the road follows north, and they’re in your neighbor’s yard.

And just as suddenly and madly as they bloom, they fade, petals fall like warm snow, get swept into eddies and canals, and dust the edges of paths.

From Hanami

From Hanami

Something else I like about sakura (this year) is the way that some of the trees are little and puny, some are like regular trees, and others are clearly masters of their respective areas. Last weekend, I spent Sunday riding the Himeji Riiide route with Illustrator JET to make sure we had that nailed flat (conscientious? you bet!), and I spent Saturday on a mini-roadtrip to Yabu with three other Shisonians. Our pilgrimage was to go see a sakura tree that is 1,000 years old.

You'd need scaffolding too, if you were a thousand.

From Hanami 2011

A thousand! This tree was around before.. before.. well, before lots of things! I love the idea of living things that are so old. They call it the Oya Daizakura (or is it O-zakura? I dunno) and it’s a monster of a tree, a huge sprawling thing, pretty in a sort of massive, oddly-shaped kind of way. The tree, sadly, was not in full bloom, being a bit higher up in elevation than the Himeji trees, but it was a great roadtrip and we packed a hell of a good picnic, and made several stops along the way there and back. The rules of the roadtrip were, each person in the car has to call for at least one stop (only one?) along the way there or back, at any place, be it combini for supplies, shrine that looks interesting, the dam that holds up the reservoir in Haga…

Hello picnic! We failed to bring utensils, so we ate the chicken salad by scooping it with bread or spinach leaves.

From Hanami 2011

On the path in Himeji, pre-PEPY-ride with the Illustrator.

From Hanami 2011

So overall, it was a good and exhausting weekend. I prefer to take my hanami on the road, because I feel like I see more, and I like the idea that I’m not just sitting, but moving through the picture. I biked from Himeji station to Taiyo Park and back again on a free rental bike (courtesy of Himeji tourism office) in flip-flops, while the riverbanks below the bike path played host to a hundred blossom-gazers and  their kids wading in the water and their uncles grilling on the BBQ pit. The smells were intoxicating. “It’s like Memorial Day weekend,” I observed to the Illustrator, “only not so damn hot out.”

 Click on any of the above photos to go to the full albums, including gratuitous overphotography of blossoms, and of the thousand-year sakura, and other spring things.

The Trifecta of Sore

"Wait'll you see my ass bruise!" I enthused. I like the sound of "ass-bruise." It sounds kind of like "ass groove," which is a Simpsons quote.

But after my weekend, I'm covered in bruises and my muscles are sore.

I'm baaack!

I went to Shorinji Kempo Thursday night to give it my all one last time before the test Friday night. Then I went skiing Saturday afternoon. Yes, but I like to think my insanity is the good kind!

In the same way that I forget who I am if I haven't sweated through a t-shirt in recent memory, I also feel a little more badass with a small collection of bruises to prove it.

Thursday, actually, was the hardest on me. I really did everything at 100%. I also "fought" with Sensei, and the thing about that is.. I don't have bruises from where he got through my (HAH) guard and hit me.. I have bruises where I tried to, for example, kick him, and he blocked it.

I used to think that things like him happening to hit my funnybone when blocking my attacks was.. like, maybe a coincidence. Now I think, he's just really effing good.

But the one I got for trying to front kick him turned into a slightly swollen little knot on my right shin, and looks a bit like an eye in coloration.

The testing itself was not so bad. Not when you're recalling six nerve-wracking hours and you only get one. But the lead-in to the test, now that was something straight out of a dream.

The test was in Himeji, which means an hour drive. This is an hour if you know exactly where you are going and traffic is decent. A sane person would leave an extra fifteen minutes. I intended to leave forty extra minutes. That, of course, ended up not working out so well... I left at 5:41 for a 7pm test (my shirt wasn't dry, etc). But then I got 15 minutes down the road and realized I'd forgotten my white belt in my apartment, so I turned around and went to get it. I was sweating it out all the way down 29, trying to breathe slowly because we could all only go as fast as that truck up ahead. Miraculously, all the lights were green. Seriously, all of them.

Once I got on the bypass I could pass the beast (whew) but I was still cutting it close even if I knew exactly where to go, which I did not. Although when the Shorinji people asked me if I knew where to go, I said I did. I mean, I had been to the Himeji Budokan once. A year and a half ago. In daylight. Oh and we were late that time, because we got lost. Ding! But I was planning to have a lot of extra time to find it. Good good.

I miraculously (see this post about my Shishi-imitatin' protector) parked in budokan parking, then ran across the street to a building I thought might be the budokan and it was not the budokan. It was 6:54. I called the only person in Kempo who speaks English, the only person whose number I even have. I realized that even if the building I had run to had been the budokan, my uniform was still in the car.

I ran back to the car. Tore off my outer clothes and pulled the uniform on. I looked up the hill and the large mysterious building looming over me and knew that IT was the BUDOKAN. 6:58. I ran up the hill on the street, veering right. I went farther up the hill. No door. God, where was the front door?!


View Flight to the Budokan in a larger map

Finally I found it just as my contact was calling me back. Sensei was waiting in the lobby. "So, you didn't know where it was?" he asked. I wanted to plant my face in the wooden flooring. I went into the test and everyone was meditating, so I sat down with them and then we did all the preliminary stuff, state your name, get your pencil--

Get your pencil?? Of course. For the WRITTEN part of the test. Yes you can write in English. But the questions are all in Japanese. Ready go.

I have no idea why I felt okay about all of this. But I did. The actual physical part of the test was so short I almost felt like I didn't get to show how hard I'd worked to get there.

I drove home feeling really really good about life (God only knows why that was!).

So that's why I felt like it would be fun to go skiing the next day. And it was! I rented short skis this time, which I rather enjoyed.

I'd been skiing (for the second time in my life) two weeks before. There is a decent ski park about an hour from my house. I was happy because falling while skiing is okay, it's just snow! On the first run down the mountain, I fell hard right on my ski pole grip. Have you ever bruised your ass so bad it formed a knot?

I enjoyed my public bathing experiences with my friends these last couple weekends (one at the hotel in Osaka, one after skiing this week) because I'll admit it.. the only upside to having such a bruise is showing it to people, and you don't get much opportunity for that. I felt wrong taking photos of it, and so did not.. it's way past its scariest coloring by now anyway and no longer hurts at all.

Skiing made me sore two weeks ago because I only knew how to move forward by pulling myself along with the poles. This week I did not have poles so I had to skate along the snow.

But overall, upper body, lower, everything is pretty much just sore as fuck.

And now you know why!

Himeji-Momiji PEPY Ride

At the risk of reaching too far back, I'd like to get this entry up now and be almost finished with my backward blogging!

The Himeji-Momiji bike ride was on November 13th, and it was a great success! We shortened the ride from the springtime because of restrictions on the daylight hours, and the way that the cloudy sky was making me want to take a nap.

But by and large, we had an awesome day, and raised 35,200 yen for PEPY!

PEPY is an organization which works with education in Cambodia. Education is an issue pretty dear to me, as I believe strongly that education of our children is essential for anything good to happen in the future. I sort of fell into working with PEPY (dare I call what we do "working with" PEPY?) because I want to take one of their bike-including tours of Cambodia one of these days.

Here is my post-ride report (edited for content/enhanced with photos for your viewing pleasure):

Team Name (prefecture): Hyogo

Team leader: EmLem, Chip Boles

Team members and nationalities: 19 people, American, British, Japanese, Canadian

Distance covered: about 25 km.

Date(s)/Time: November 13^th, 2010, from about 9am to 5pm.

Amount raised: 35,200 yen

Cost per team member (travel to cycle route, bicycle rental, food, accommodation, etc): 500 – 1700 per person (bike rental 300, Shosha ropeway 900 or 500 or 0, depending on how much you like mountain hiking, 500 for entrance to Engyoji)

Please provide a description of your ride (including details of times, meals, weather, morale, sightseeing, anecdotes, anything else you feel we might like to know!):

Our ride this fall followed much the same route as the spring ride, although we had to trim some of the stops and activities because of the early sundown time.

We tried to time the ride to catch some momiji color on Mt. Shosha without conflicting with Hyogo’s mid-year JET conference.

We met at Himeji station at about 9am to introduce ourselves and sign waivers.

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

After sorting out the bike rentals (14 people rented) and stopping to allow people to grab food for lunch if they didn’t bring anything,

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

we were off to Sosha shrine, near Himeji-jo, where it just so happened to be 3-5-7 day (aka Adorable Children Festival), so we got to see a lot of 3, 5, and 7-year-olds dressed up in tuxedoes and kimono.

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

We moved on to Himeji-jo itself, which is almost invisible right now because of the restoration scaffolding, and took a group photo [note: still waiting on my copy of this damn photo], then headed for the Yumesaki River, which we followed north to Mt. Shosha. Some of us decided to hike up the mountain,

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

while others took the ropeway.

We met at the top for our picnic lunches,

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

then wandered around exploring Engyoji, the temple on top of the mountain.

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

It was the weekend of their momiji matsuri, so some of the temple buildings which are normally kept shut were opened up to public viewing.

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

Also, the momiji were looking beautiful.

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

After descending the mountain, we stopped for Taiyaki snacks at Marukura, where we gave the PEPY information and summary of how far we’d ridden and how much money we’d raised that day.

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

From there, we returned to the station, then grouped off for dinner and later, karaoke.

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

One thing that struck me as really fun was seeing the faces of Japanese children we passed along the way within the city itself. As the rear captain, I was the last foreigner they were seeing in a very long single-file train of them, and it was fun to hear their exclamations and remarks as we went by. It’s anybody’s guess what such a mass of foreigners would be doing on bikes in a city whose main tourist attraction is currently closed!

From Himeji Ride Fall 2010

The day was cloudy and a little bit chilly, which made us feel a bit lazier and had us moving a little slower (at least true of me!). This also meant it got dark as soon as the sun began to set, so we cut the last planned stop, “Bowser’s Castle” in Tegarayama park where we’d hoped to do a sort of Mario themed Easter-egg hunt activity. That, and Taiyo Koen, we will save for the spring!

Of our 19 riders, 7 had also attended the spring ride. A few were experienced cyclists and others expert grocery-store goin’ mamachari-ers. Everyone had a good time, and no one even needed a band-aid from my first aid kit! Special thanks to Miriam, who stayed in Himeji all day on-call with her car at the ready.

Star Sand Beach Just Out of Reach

First of all, I’d like to link to this entry. I wrote it a long time ago, but for whatever reason, did not publish it to the blog. So there is that. And here are the rest of the photos from that whole trip.

I think the reason I never published it might have something to do with a rewrite I was planning to do with it, a sort of reflection on the nature of a few turns of phrase I used to run through my head. One of them is “Star sand beach, just out of reach,” and the other is “Always more of Shosha to see."

The first time I visited Mount Shosha, I made it there with barely enough daylight to see anything at all. The second time, I had a little bit more, but still not enough to explore the whole temple complex. This was frustrating, because it seemed like I could never get my shit together enough to arrive with any kind of time. But it is also encouraging to think of always having a reason to go back.

I have a tendency to do things to death, because I have a hard time letting go.

So it legitimizes my hope to return to a place.. I’m more likely to actually return to a place if it’s not left me with a been-there, done-that sort of feel.

Even if one had been to Okinawa and done that, I’d want to go again. But I never did get to see the star sand beach I had hoped to find. And that’s reason enough for me to take another trip.

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

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.

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.