Fall Festival

Last year, Aki Matsuri came to me. This year, since it was on a Saturday (October 16th), I went to Aki Matsuri. I biked there, in fact (which later enabled me to bike to small elementary, etc.)!

Seeing the festival on the shrine grounds was a lot of fun. There were the usual festival food booths, and it was overrun with my kids, many of whom were wearing street clothes which to me make them look totally weird but also reveal their personalities, maybe?

On my little trips around the area accompanying and “translating” for our sister-city visitor, we got to see the red yattai, or mikoshi (portable shrine) in storage, with all the parts disassembled and laid out. It was awesome to get up close to the thing and really look at the intricacy of the woodcarving, metalwork, and stitching that went into it, among other things. The principal said it cost 2-sen-man which I had trouble converting into numbers I could understand.

That comes to $200,000, if the yen were still 100 to 1 on a dollar, which it is not (still bottoming out at like 80.5? As soon as I get my next paycheck, I’m cashing in..!)..

Another bit of information I would like to add is something I learned from Osaki-san at Japanese class. I might be getting some of this wrong, since I get my information from a conversation held entirely in Japanese after a sumptuous meal (as she always prepares) at 8:30 pm which meant I was just full, sleepy, and unreliable as a reporter. Still and all:

When I arrived at Iwa shrine at about 1pm, there were four yattai on the grounds, three doing their thing, one resting. From northmost, red, yellow, pink, and green. I saw a mom I knew and she explained that this year’s leader was green (last year was red; they rotate). Just for reference, my school is actually located closest to the yellow area.

Watched them for a bit, until after the priests (?) brought out a special portable shrine I hadn’t seen before, and all the yattai left the area (I thought they were just going round the neighborhood, like when they went up to my school last year, but I think they went down to the river, which I’m sorry to have missed) then wandered along the row of food stalls out toward the road. Blue was out in the michi-no-eki (road version of a train station..?) parking lot doing their maneuvers.

Then, all five neighborhood-color-coded portable shrines went into the shrine area and did their rocking and rolling.

So anyway, Osaki-san asked me, did the blue team go into the shrine grounds for the festival, and I told her, yes, they were last, but eventually, they did. Then she told me that historically, they were barred from doing so, and in fact, that southmost area of town (down by the river) was not included in the festival in bygone days. Around the Edo period I think, that area built their own shrine and their own yattai too, partly because they were excluded from Iwa.

But why, you may wonder, were they excluded? Was it religious differences? No.. they were all shrine-goin’ Shinto temple-goin’ Buddhist hybrids even then. Racial issues? No.. Japan is amazingly homogenous, racially speaking, even now.

In fact, if I am understanding this right, the whole reason the town was looking down on those people livin’ down by the river is because.. they needed someone to look down on. Which is of course the reason any group gets pushed under.. every group needs someone to feel bigger/better than. But this was so startlingly arbitrary to me. She said, they made them do the jobs no one wanted to do (but it might have been that they already did the dirty jobs, and this was the grounds for their exclusion?) It sounded a bit like low-caste positions in Hindu society, anyway. Osaki-san explained the old system of lords and warriors, then farmers, then merchants and tradesmen… and then the bottom of the heap.

Out here in the countryside especially, people surprise me by how close they are to very deep roots. In the US, most people are not only of mixed heritage, but almost no one I know lives in the house or on the land kept by the family for 8 generations. Japan is like Europe in that the civilization that is there now is pretty continuous from the civilization that was there a thousand years ago. Lots of change, but not anything like the change on the scale to which the Americas have changed.

It was just so surprising to find that human nature is like that, even out in pretty peaceful countryside smalltown Japan. People gotta hate on someone, and so they did.

But the blue guys went in. “Yokatta,” said Osaki-san, and I’m still hard pressed to believe that this is the first year they’ve entered the shrine grounds, like ever. But whether things just reached that point here in 2010, or whether their wait in the parking lot was merely symbolic of the past, today everyone has the right to wear no pants and carry a huge, ornate, portable shrine with a giant drum and four men inside. Well, except chicks.

Gaijin Week in our Furusato

*gaijin - foreigner (only, rude, like "freakin ferners")
**Furusato - the countryside hometown to which you return from your cityfied life to like.. say hi to grandma. And stuff.

What a week so far!

Tuesday, of course.. speech contest. My yessir-I'll-win-you-that-speech-contest kid took 3rd place. Today one of the teachers in my desk cluster said "He got third? But he's just in judo club. His English score is like 30 something?" which confused me because the judge scoring system was out of 40 points and I think our kid must have gotten in the thirties, maybe. But actually, he meant his English grades. I laughed because that's the beauty of it.. this kid is not good at "English" as English gets taught and tested around here. But he is good at communicating and speaking and has personality to spare.

Pre-contest! The dude on the right side is not mine.

All in all, the contest went pretty well. The school that has won 1st and 2nd since speech contest inception did not even place. A surprise ringer appeared out of our remotest village to deliver a speech that actually made the English speakers in the audience (our sister-city visitors) laugh out loud. His intonation and rhythm were just too good, and everyone knew he had to take first.

The kid who got second was the very last speaker, and I wasn't especially impressed, but I didn't want to push too much because my kid was in third and it would just look like I was pushing my own school into second. But honestly, honestly, even though I had seen my speech kid do better in rehearsal than he did on that stage, he did a really good job, and I was super proud. I was really proud of my speech girl, too, although she looked pretty sad and disappointed after. I kept telling them both that they did so well. Just because some other kids happened to have done better doesn't diminish that.. but it does prevent them from carrying home the big trophy. All in all, I was really pleased with their performance.

Last year, I wasn't sure what to give my students as presents for being my speech students, but this year I realized that one of the best things you can give someone doesn't always have to come just from you. I asked their classmates to make them cards in which everyone wrote a little message to them, and they did a superb job of that. The cards weren't decorated enough for my tastes, so I took them home to add ribbons and origami stuff, and to write my message on the back. My message was honest, so I didn't bother to try and make the English easy enough for them to read. I figured the important thing would be for them to get the encouragements of their friends while they were waiting in the pre-speech room with all those nervous teenagers.

I wanted to put my arms around each of them, but I think that might have been weird?

Anyway, the following day (aka, yesterday) was the Furusato Matsuri/Gaijinfest 2010. Since there are nine Americans in our town, and one Canadian, I got "bumped" to Canada's booth for the festival. I didn't mind at all because I love our Canadian JET, and we had a host of Japanese ladies helping us, to the point that we basically didn't have to do any of the real work. The festival was pretty fun. It was a beautiful day up at Sponic Park, and being so close to my schools, a bunch of my students were around and about.

Our production team

Front-booth foreigners

We cooked up a mess of pancakes and poutine (which is Canadian for "fries with gravy and cheese") and sold out just after midday. My speech boy's mom stopped by our booth to tell me they had read my message to him and thank me for being so sweet/awesome/whatever. It reminded me a lot of GHP, when the parents get their kids at the end, and they say thank you for "giving up your summer," or thank you for taking care of our kids, or whatever, and you just want to say "No no no no, thank YOU~" ... I actually found myself halfway through saying "No, thank YOU for .. um.. letting him.. come to school..." before I realized that it made no sense at all. HA!

Later on, I snagged some free tissues outside the blood bus (er.. the place where you can give blood), and the dudes were like, hey give us some blood. And I thought about it, and how I hadn't been drinking a lot of water that day, and how that might not be the best idea. I went and bought a gatorade and thought about it. Then I decided I ought to, and when I told my friends I would do that and then we could go home, their reactions confirmed my decision.

I realize giving blood is something not everyone is able to do, whether because of nerves, or blood issues, or whatever. It's not difficult for me, so I do try to do it when I have the opportunity. It reminded me of being a senior in high school and giving blood on Halloween in our costumes. I threw down my blood donor card (Japan version) and got to skip part of the information sheet. Which is good, since it's all in Japanese. I had to get a team of volunteers to help me answer the yes/no question part though. Which is awesome since some of the questions are like "Have you had sex with X Y or Z in your life?"

Beautiful day for a festival!

Today I was assigned to hang out with our visitor from the sister city and "translate" for her. I thought that was kind of a joke, as I thought the rest of our English speaking staff would be coming along. But then they didn't, and it was just me, her, and our principal to visit Iwa shrine and then go make soba out of buckwheat flour. I was amazed at the simplicity of the ingredients, but it was fun, making noodles like that. At the end we ate some of them! I don't have photos from that yet, but I might get the files later from the principal or soba guy.

One fun thing that happened later in the day was our visitor (14 years old, mind you) asked me how old I was. I said 24, then corrected myself to 25. She was surprised. "You look like you're in your teens." Hell yes I do. I get mistaken for being younger than I am a lot, mostly at the airport when kindly airline workers are concerned that I am flying alone (and/or abroad). But now that I've reached my quarter century marker, I guess I can just be pleased with that.

There are other things about being 25..! One of them is, I am finally okay with admitting that I am no longer "too young" to think about certain things, like careers or marriage and families and what have you. More on that later, I think.

Hai!

Today is speech contest! I am excited. A little nervous, but mostly excited. And mostly because I am ignoring that I have to be a judge, and trying to get into the fact that my kids will be awesome.

Seriously, one of them came into the staff office earlier this morning. The VP said to him in Japanese, "Please win the speech contest today," to which the kid was just like "Hai!" ..as in, yessir, as you wish, sir.

Concludio: Oktober is Over

Well, the windy skies of October have given way to the brisk breezes of November! Actually.. it's much warmer today than it was last week. I had a great birthday and felt all the love from back home. My birthday weekend consisted of Halloween party time and some restful downtime at home. I even got restless and wanted to go running.. but it started raining (which I wanted it to do because of the plants I'd put in the backyard).

One of my dead trees finally fell down in a storm sometime back, so I stuck a little sweet-olive tree in its place. I love those trees, and they smell so good in September. I've also put in pansies, and they're multiplying. I want something pretty to climb the fence by the road, because it currently is just a gross, bent, rusty, peeling green paintjob of a thing.

I'm still fighting the good fight in my head about staying or not staying a 3rd year.

Work last week was a lot more elementary than usual, and even in middle school I was giving the same powerpoint pantomime spiel. I got pretty tired of that presentation. I watched the opening song from Nightmare Before Christmas about 23 times in one week. Halloween activities abound, but how do you attempt to encapsulate this weird holiday for kids who have no experience whatsoever of its traditions? Nightmare Before Christmas is actually, I think, a good component, since it playfully embodies so much of the scary spirit of Halloween!

This week is going to be, secretly, kind of awesome, because work is not at all the same old. Today kind of is, but tomorrow, instead of elementary, we have SPEECH CONTEST. I'm really excited about it this year, despite having to be a judge (I hate being a judge). My kids are rock stars and even if they don't win, I'm really proud of them. Practicing with them has been fun, and their teacher (Mikan-sensei) has been a champion too. South Yamasaki JHS started practice for speech contest, as usual, back in like July or some crap.. but even for all that, there is some chance my kid might win the whole thing.

Wednesday is a holiday, but we're working the Furusato matsuri, aka International Festival? ..it's in Ichinomiya this year, which means a lot closer to civilization (last year was Chikusa). Instead of being hot-dog group (America 2) or ice-cream group (America 1), I'm poutine group (Canada)! There are so many American ALTs in Shiso that we figured 4 to each group, and then I would help out the one Canadian. ^_^ I rather think it'll be fun.

Then Thursday, instead of elementary, I get to just be an accessory to the show-our-Sequim-girl-around gig. I was just told what this will mean. While last year it meant sitting in the back of a couple classrooms fretting over the way my-life-the-sitcom had just taken a TURN, this year it means playing games with the third years, then going to a nearby shrine or temple ("or something"), then going out to lunch with the kid and principal before visiting Iwa Jinja, then going up the Somegochi valley to make soba.

Sequim is the sister city of Shiso. It's in Washington state, and is a tiny mountainy town kind of like this one. Every year we do an exchange of third-years/ninth graders. A couple of my favorite girls went over to Sequim in early October, and now the Sequim group is coming here. From what I understand, they spend the first several days touring Kyoto and Tokyo and what have you, before coming to Shiso in time for speech contest, International fest, etc.

Friday, it'll be back to the grind, or.. back to small elementary, which is a beautiful and charming place.

Thursday, I stopped by Shorinji Kempo on my way to Salamander, and met Shiso's first ALT (circa 1991) who was there with his wife and daughter. They all live in Washington now, but had come back for a visit.

Over the weekend, I watched some more of the Amazing Race and downloaded last year's application forms. I rediscovered smart.fm and am using it to study Japanese and the countries of the world. I am still working on concepts for our three minute audition video.

I was a kitsune for Halloween/my birthday (because it just fits, right?) and had a lovely time in Himeji! I am now also the proud owner of a hot glue gun, a rarity in Japan.

I have discovered the wonder that is black tea (especially Earl Grey) brewed a bit strong with some milk mixed in. Happiness in a cup?

I'm sure I forgot something, but that's the view from here!

“Mulittasking”

I was doing four things at once, this one time, and I accidentally typed the word incorrectly. It’s a fun rendition of the word though, giving me the impression simultaneously of fish, hairstyles, and how busy one must really be in that moment, to not notice the typing error. It’s almost as good as “blasmephy.”

Every time I get snowed under with tasks---

Wait. Let us be perfectly clear about the nature of these tasks, because that’s important too.

Some of it is work. Of course. You gotta work, not just for the rent, but to feel useful in the world. Sometimes, there is more to do at work than other times. Or, maybe there’s just always a lot. Lesson plans and lesson delivery.

Some of it is housekeeping. Because you can’t just let your apartment go to shit while you try to do everything else there is. There’s always going to be clutter, laundry, piles of papers, vacuuming, dust, stickiness, maybe even mold. There may even be the way you aren’t quite satisfied with the furniture arrangement.

Some of it is the event schedule. All the events vary in their demands and fun levels.. some of them are strictly pretty much work. But some things you gotta do, and you gotta do them now while you have the shot at them. So basically, anything that is Japan-only, I should take in before I don’t live here anymore. Also, getting around Japan takes about 50% more time than you think it will. Just sayin.

Some of it is socializing. Because all work and no play makes your life sad and alone. Here (no, actually, for me, anywhere I’d be) it’s twofold… one side is keeping in touch with people around me in the local or semi-immediate area. My fellow JETs, the events there are around involving them, just spending time unwinding with them. The other side is keeping in touch with the important people in my life who are far away. Writing letters and using skype.

Some of it is self-improvement and maintenance. That’s why you take karate class, or study Japanese (or all eight). Because it’s good for you, and sometimes you like it, and it’s rewarding.

All of these things are important. All of these things take time and energy. And every time I get snowed under with tasks of my own creation, I think to myself, man, it sure would be nice if my life were simple and I only had one job to do. I nostalgically project a future time when this will be the case.

Yeah, you can laugh. I do, too. Because I know very well there will never be a time like that. I will never have just one job, will never eliminate any of those categories, really. because it will never be enough for me “just” to be a really great [insert title here]. I’ll still be organizing charity bike trips on the side. For the rest of my life.

To be fair, some things change, and others change back. When I lived with a roommate, I would sometimes find myself thinking, this will be a lot easier when I live alone. And some things are. You basically are responsible for all the stuff you have, and you never have to wonder, what the hell am I supposed to (allowed to) do with this object/food/mess of my roommate’s making?

But of course some things are less awesome. If everything is yours, then everything is your responsibility too. No one is going to wash the dishes. No one is going to complain if you don’t, but really. No one is going to do anything around that place but you. Nothing is going to change unless you actively do it yourself.

So sometimes I think, this will be easier when I have a more permanently settled place to live. And in some ways, yes, managing my stuff will be easier in a longer-held location. But in other ways, no. Because I won’t have the inevitable point in the future where I will get to abandon it all and start over. (But, dude, I won’t have to start over so damn frequently)

That goes for activities, too. On the one hand, I will be less pressed to do everything at once just because there is very limited time for me to do it in. But on the other, I won’t be just quitting stuff because I’m going. I’ll have to quit stuff because I want to quit, and the people on whom I quit will know that’s why I quit.

It isn’t and never was about doing less, exactly (though most of the time, it is). It’s much more about finding the right balance. By the end of high school, I’d accumulated a schedule that was packed precariously just over budget. The stuff I did was all wedged in place like the stones of an archway, and I was only a little bit worn out, and I was only a little bit holding back in my activities (I didn’t try out for Oklahoma! and I didn’t decide to shoot for a black belt).

The advent of college and the clearing of all those activities was the act of jumping right from everything-I-could to nothing at all, so in a panic I filled my extracurricular time quick as I could. It was easier, since there was less of it (I did my homework very fastidiously).

When I first got to Japan, too, I had too much free time. My apartment was always clean and I was pretty on top of every little obligation (there weren’t very many of them). But I wasn’t really all that happy, either. I didn't scramble, this time, though. I know that arrival in a new place, in a new life, necessarily means that for the first span of time, you’ll have nothing to do. Then, for a while, you’ll have less to do than you maybe want to be doing. Of course one thing, then another, and the next thing you know, you’re over capacity.

The problematic pattern isn’t so much the tendency to want to do a lot. I will not always be caught up on my correspondence, and sometimes the laundry will pile up.

But every time I’ve moved to a new place, I’ve begun with nothing, and built too much. Generally this is not so much because I “cain’t say no,” but rather because I want to do everything. I see some event that needs a leader (like the prefecture bike ride) and think, well I could do that (and I can). And I enjoy it. I can say no.. I just frequently do not.

The problem is just, of course, sorting out priorities. Deciding which are most valuable, which are the most important, wedged as they all are between my work ethic, reputation, curiosity, ego, and sanity.

I’m going to have to quit something that doesn’t make the most-valuable list, is all.. not just do til I leave everything I’ve signed up for thus far.

And shove all the rest into my life wheresoever it may fit. Along with fish and bad haircuts.

Some days, I feel like my job is not real. This has a lot less to do with its temporary status than with what I am doing at that given moment.

Yesterday, I thought, what the hey, I'll ride my bicycle (which was at Big Elementary, having been left there post-Autumn-festival by me upon being offered a car ride home with another JET) to Small Elementary. It's not really all that far up the valley from my other schools.

It is, however, uphill all the way. I have a lot of leeway when it comes to what time I arrive at Small Elementary, because it's so out of the way, and regular buses don't go up that road. If I make the connections the way I am supposed to, I hit the schoolyard about the time first period is starting. If I'm lucky, they will have left first period free, and I can teach the other five after taking a minute to get my materials in order and have a cup of coffee.

If I'm not lucky, I have to hit the ground running and dash off to third or fifth grade; hopefully I have all the materials in hand, but if I am hoping to dig flashcards out of the textbook flashcard box, I end up feeling lame for running late to class. The kicker is, they generally don't warn me, so I don't know until I walk in and look at the schedule on the front board whether I get 40 minutes of chill time or if I am already late.

If I drive myself there, which is against the rules (but come ON.. on the occasions when they DO warn me that I have a first period class, I can't just show up late, knowing that some of my materials are buried in boxes in their office), I kind of feel chagrined for obviously flouting the rules set down for me. If I get there at 8:20 instead of 8:35, I am clearly disobedient.

Anyway, there I was, red-faced and sweating in the cool October air, pushing my bike up the hill after whatever point I gave up trying to pedal. I couldn't help but enjoy the quaint view of persimmon trees and rice fields, wildflowers and lovely houses along the way. It was basically like taking a stroll when the other teachers are having their morning meeting. Kind of weird. Or awesome. Unprofessional? Maybe childish. But also special.

The weather yesterday resolved itself into perfection just in time for morning recess, so I ignored my physically demanding schedule and went outside to play. During my planning period, I took a walk up the hill behind the school and found the path to the little shrine at which I'm always staring when I use the stairwell. It's kind of like being in your own little world, but taking breaks from that to teach a bunch of classes. Or else, being in teaching world, but taking frequent forays out into something else.

Either way, it doesn't feel like a real job, days like that.

Today, Wednesday, which has rapidly become my get-shit-accomplished day (I generally have one or no classes on Wednesday... every other day I have four to six), my VP reminded me that these reports for CLAIR are due tomorrow. I made a halfhearted attempt to tell him that the reports are optional, and then sat down to do them in true I-went-to-college-and-can-bust-out-reports-like-whoa form. I'm at my desk, makin' outlines and mapping ideas and I feel like this is a lot more like what real office people do. Meaning, I feel like my job is "real." I've got a whole list of things to do. It sort of brings out the businessperson in me, though, and I don't dislike it.

I think the low pressure of yesterday would, were it every day, eventually cause me to explode. While the high pressure of today would, were it every day, eventually cause me to implode.

Silver-Lined Week: Shikoku, roads and rafting

The second half of the silvery week was piggybacked onto the AJET white-water-rafting trip in the Oboke Canyon. This event was just Saturday and Sunday, but since Thursday was a holiday, some of us decided it would be excellent to take Friday off and create a four-day-weekend. Some of us managed to do this without using any actual nenkyuu (allotted vacation time) because they might have had to work on a day they were supposed to be off. Yes I was proud of that engineering of schedule.

We drove to Shikoku through Okayama, like this:

View Larger Map

I was the only driver, and the rainy trek to Takamatsu was not really a big deal. The tolls were lighter than our 30-year-old map book led us to expect (6450 to cross the bridge?!), and the udon was pretty delicious, yes. It was September 23rd, and the first official day of fall. Since we'd spent the previous weekend wearing shorts and sweating through our tank tops, we were surprised to find the air a bit chilly, and wished we'd brought jeans.

The rain dampened our ambitions to explore Takamatsu's offerings at first, but as it let up we did manage to get to Ritsurin Koen, one of the largest garden parks of its kind. We missed out on the Shikoku Mura museum, and only caught the sunset from the 84th of the 88 temple pilgrimage, Yashima-ji.

We made our way back to the city below, re-found our hotel (which was conveniently located just across from the station... except that we were driving), and sought out some awesome yakiniku dinner. We crashed fairly early and hoped the following day would be clear.

It was! Armed with my driving skillz and my expert navigator Lester, we headed south for the Iya valley, home of the vine bridges, our next target. The more touristed (and accessible by bus or train) west Iya valley had some vine bridges, yeah, but WE had a CAR and damned if we weren't going to see the less accessible but more-awesome sounding east side of the valley. We picked out the most direct-looking route on the map and headed east.

Do me a favor and look at how squiggly this line actually is (zoom a bit maybe):

View Larger Map

...Yeah. Turns out, this treacherous mountain pass road winds and switchbacks up and up a mountain (at the top of which we took lovely photos). It was unbelievable and took forever. Then when it was time to go back down, the road became a loosely assembled collection of potholes. When we finally, finally reached east Iya and picked up a tourist map, it labeled our path as "National route but treacherous; recommend prefectural route." We laughed at that, but it was seriously the worst road I have ever seen. My little kei-SUV held her own, though, and we didn't even need 4-wheel drive!

The vine bridges of east Iya were awesome and scary, and I encourage you to look at those photos (link forthcoming). We pulled on our warmer clothes as it had clouded up.. in my case, the only pair of sweatpants I brought, and the only light jacket I brought, both of which would see much more action than I had anticipated. Seriously, I thought Shikoku was to the south of my town.

On the drive back, while we made for the prefectural route, I was startled/creeped out by what I thought was a person, which turned out to be a mannequin. Suddenly, we were surrounded by them, and Lester cried, "Pull over!" We had pulled over many a time during the trip so far, to admire a waterfall, to examine an oddity, or to let another car use the road. In a surreal and otherwise deserted-looking area, we mingled with puppet-people. I bought a couple mugs from the table in the center of this strange artist's haven, and we went on our way.

Adina and I were signed up to stay at the guest house associated with the rafting company to which we would be patrons the following day. Our fellow JET group members were coming in that night in a couple of rental vans; it would be very late and they would be sleeping in those vans overnight. Adina and I agreed that this was a hideous idea and were glad not to be part of it.

The photos for this weekend from my own camera are here. We also got our hands on the waterproof camera photos, which can be found here. (Yeah, still too lazy to post them one by one.. treat yourself to a slideshow moment and enjoy them en masse?)

What follows is my writeup of the JET event for the Hyogo Times:

Kicking It in the Canyons

It was my first AJET Shikoku raft trip, and I had an absolute blast. My traveling companion and I decided to take Friday off and make an extra-long four-day weekend of it, so I can’t speak to the transportation experience of the other riverbound JETs. But the three of us north Hyogonians spent Friday night at the Happy Guest House, an affiliate of Happy Raft, where we cooked ourselves breakfast-for-dinner and enjoyed the company of some Germans (who assured us we were in for a real, albeit chilly, treat) and some adventure guides employed by Happy Raft.

Saturday morning, dressed in the only-pairs-of-long-pants-we-brought (we didn’t anticipate the immediacy of fall in such a southerly place as Shikoku), we met up with the rest of the Hyogo group (there were thirteen of us in total) who had apparently slept in the vans which had carried them to Shikoku. Saturday was our full day raft tour, so we sipped on the provided tea and then suited up in our provided wetsuits, helmets, and lifejackets. One raft seats six to eight people or so, and we were sharing the river with several other Happy Raft groups, as well as some boats from other companies. The rafting guides were from all over the world, but there was a predominance of Japanese, Australian, and New Zealander guides. It was a lot of fun to talk normal speed (and often curse-word-laden) English in the visible middle of nowhere Japan.

The bus trundled us downriver to the load-in point. The guides explained that this late in the season, the water level is far below what it is in July, and while this makes some of the rapids more technical and less “fun,” it also reveals some awesome rock formations usually covered by the water. In any season, though, the waters of the Yoshino river are an astonishing clear-green; I could have spent all afternoon just taking in the scenery.

But that would never do! The wind was strong and actually managed to push us upriver if we remained inactive, so there was paddling to be done. In calm areas, we went swimming, tried boat stunts under direction by our adventure guide, or attempted to pull other JETs out of their boats.

Lunch was an all-you-can-eat bagel buffet, after which the sky unfortunately clouded over and left us all shivering in our various soggy forms of footwear. Some more paddling warmed us up, though, and by the end we were climbing the cliff face to jump into the river. Some JETs may or may not have faceplanted off the highest possible jumping rock. My own jump was only like 12 meters or so, which I assure you was Scary As Shit.

That afternoon, we all bus-napped back to Happy Raft for some tea, snacks, and slideshow before setting out more or less en masse to find an onsen to clean and warm us up. From there, we drove to that night’s accommodations, which surprised me both by being on some ridiculous mountain roads barely accessible to even my kei-SUV, let alone the buses we later saw, and by being perhaps the most kick-ass place I have ever stayed.

Due to some misunderstandings, the owner of the beautiful log cabin had expected us the night before. We drove up the narrow, winding switchbacks and joked about how this place better be worth it, and on our arrival, we were presented with plates and plates of meat (from the meat cows) and vegetables for our grilling, and half a wheel of homemade gouda cheese. There was fresh milk in the fridge for the morning, too (from the milk cows). And a flatscreen TV, and a karoke machine; beer cost extra, but we were just glad she had some, because we were NOT going back down that mountain to get it. The lodge slept the 12 of us comfortably, and because of its layout, is better suited to groups of about that size.

Day two was the half-day canyoning excursion in the Musasabi canyon. I had never been canyoning and did not even know what “canyoning” was. Canyoning, it turns out, is awesomeness distilled to a crystal clear purity. We suited up in extra layers of wetsuits (against the chill) and scrambled down over the rocks to begin treating the waterfalls as waterslides. We jumped, slid, and ziplined our way through part of a gorge few people get to see. More rocks, and trees, and moss, and of course, ridiculously awesome waterfalls and crystal-tinted water.

Canyoning is sort of a one-person-at-a-time thing, so the groups for this are much smaller than for rafting. Our JETs had to split between the morning and the afternoon canyon trips to fit into the other bookings with Happy Raft.

I definitely want to go again, perhaps with more careful planning, and maybe in the higher summer when it’s warmer and the waters are high. Happy Raft gets a thumbs up from this happy camper.

After lunch with our canyon group, Adina and I hit the road home, thoroughly worn out and happy to have gone.