No Words . . . Just Silence

I am alone, or at least I feel that way; standing at the base of a jet black marble monolith that radiates the weight of this place, and the horrors of the human race. At its base is a large black coffin with the names of countless people killed by the push of a button in a matter of months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds. I came to Nagasaki knowing that this would be the hardest part of my trip, but also the most essential. So I’m standing at the base of the Atomic Bomb Hypocenter Memorial. Here, somewhere around 500 meters above ground, the American weapon of destruction named “Fat Man” was detonated. About 74,000 people were killed by the bomb and its aftermath. It is strange that I’m now two generations later and far, far removed from the events of World War II, yet I still feel somewhat responsible for this place. The monolith isn’t the only sobering factor of this space. There is also a shattered church pillar that towers in broken glory next to the hypocenter marker, as well as a large statue of a motherly figure holding a child which represents the women and children that made up 70% of the casualties of the bombing. The heaviness bearing down on my shoulders is becoming a physical burden and my throat is dry now. Next to the shattered church there are hundreds of thousands of rainbow origami cranes strung together into bundles of hope for a peaceful future.

We walk down to the river, flowing clean and slow, that was once so full of dead bodies that the water poisoned by the radiation was dammed for days. My throat has now begun to tighten, and I can’t look my two friends I came with directly in the eyes any more. As we progress towards the Atomic Bomb museum I am relieved of the emotional intensity by more peace cranes and the flame of peace (carried from Greece to Nagasaki). However this sense of relief is only brief and upon entering the museum my feelings of shame and remorse are thrown back on my shoulders by five huge TV screens repeating images of the growing and vile mushroom cloud. I won’t describe the videos that followed within this museum, but know that they were incredibly telling, graphic, and completely necessary for me to watch. I continued through the museum looking upon the blast radius of the bomb, burned clothing of children from one of the multiple elementary schools that was destroyed, and hand bones melted into the center of glass coke bottles because of the unimaginable heat of the bomb. At times I simply stand and look to the floor. I feel dirty and ashamed not necessarily to be and American, but to be human. How is it that we are capable of doing such ungodly things to one another? The feelings that are running through my mind are a mumbled mess of confusion and shock. This is without a doubt one of the best if not the best such museum I’ve ever been to. It forces one to look upon the items of individuals rather than presenting cold hard facts. It shows me melted catholic rosaries, charred mangled reading glasses and the shadows of children burned into school house walls left standing.

After finishing, my friends and I silently get some lunch and proceed up to the ruined foundations of the Nagasaki prison; the current sight of the welcoming and hopeful Peace Park. The grounds are dotted with donated peace statues from many other countries. At the heart of the Peace Park a huge bronze man points to the sky and the threat of nuclear war, as well as to the mountains to his side representing the future and peace. It was uplifting but somehow seemed cheaper and less real than the hypocenter. Still it was beautiful and again entirely necessary.
I always thought I understood the need for peace, but now it is resoundingly clear. Nothing could seem more urgent and pressing that the pursuit of some type of nuclear disarmament in my eyes. After hearing and seeing the terror my country threw down upon the civilian populous of Nagasaki I can only pray that nothing this terrible ever happens again. Many argue that the bomb was the best choice. It did end the war, and in so doing saved many American soldiers lives. Yet somehow that explanation does not work after what I have seen, and the feelings I have felt. I just don’t think I can comprehend cruelty on this magnitude, and attempting to exhausts me. I have many happier stories to tell but it is quite late, and I’m dead tired.

But before I go, please don’t get the wrong idea. This has been one of the most powerful and moving moments of my entire stay in Japan. The feelings I describe are horrible and drove me to silent tears but if no one cries over the atrocities of the past then no one will ever work to keep the past from repeating itself. If you ever should find yourself in Nagasaki it is paramount that you go to these monuments and honor the spirits of those who lost their lives, and learn their stories.

Osaka Kyoto GO!

At 9 pm on Thursday night Jon-O and I boarded the night bus to Osaka, our would-be home for the next 10 hours. It was miraculously comfortable with legroom that put most airplanes to shame. We arrived at 7am Friday and set right to work finding a place to stay. After consulting Lonely Planet we decided, with many doubts and hesitations, to stay in a capsule hotel for the night. For those who don’t know, a capsule hotel is exactly what it sounds like. You are given a capsule that has about enough space to sit up in, fitted with almost all the modern hotel requirements (TV, AC, night light, alarm clock, and radio). These spacious sleeping cells are stacked two high and in our hotel’s case they fill four floors. So with sleeping taken care of we set off to tour around Osaka (second largest city in Japan). We boarded the subway system and without any complications found our way to The Osaka Aquarium. This nicely organized and stunningly clean establishment boasts one of the world's few captive whale sharks, a huge manta ray, not to mention dozens of otherworldly denizens of the deep. The whale shark was stunningly large without a doubt, but as whale sharks go he is small. He keeps a slow meandering pace, circling his huge enclosure being continuously followed by a cloud of darting and dashing, silver and gold fish. While this is going on the elegant and admittedly more impressive manta ray is flying through the water in rollercoaster loops and cartwheels. These two giants are in an enormous central tank that spans four floors. All the other attractions sprout off from this huge tank. The most photogenic creatures where the apathetic jellyfish floating in their neon tanks without care about the bad imitation Christmas music that was creeping through the sound system. We stayed in the aquarium for about three and a half to four hours photographing and staring in awe at the creatures from a world we may never truly know.

After a nice Chinese lunch we headed across town and started towards the outside Osaka traditional farmhouse museum. This naturally sounds....... well. . . boring. I have been to many a great museum and I had my doubts about what this museum’s entertainment value would be. It blew me away. The houses are wonders of human early creation. The sun started to set and the leaves, bamboo, and houses seemed to just sing out in twelve-part harmony TAKE MY PICTURE! And pictures were taken. There were twelve traditional houses (all originals not recreations) taken from all over Japan. Being somewhat tired from our travels thus far Jon-O and I found a nice patch of grass on a hill beside a traditional Kabuki theater and ate some snacks while discussing international politics and how we missed big breakfasts. Then after thanking the museum staff we headed back to the subway system to accomplish the true purpose of the trip. For those of you that don’t know my dear friend, Andrea goes to Wooster just like me and is a major in Sociology. She has spent all semester studying at Kansai, a huge international school in Naga, Japan (somewhere inbetween Osaka and Kyoto). Her boyfriend and good friend of mine, Corey, is also studying there. These two are definitively, a joy. We decided to meet each other while in Japan, and I must say the feelings of excitement that welled up within me while spinning around in Shinsabashi station like a watch dog looking for that one familiar face in a country filled with such unfamiliar things is quite the experience. However, it pales in comparison to actually finding and vigorously hugging that loved face. I haven’t had a proper hug since my arrival in Japan, and damn does it feel good. After many hugs, how are yous, and happy smiles we dashed off to all you can eat pizza. The good company made Japan’s attempt at pizza taste closer to the real thing, and the night drifted on with many stores to tell.

The next day, after a nice night in a comfy capsule, started poorly and ended even more poorly. We were supposed to get to Kyoto and find a place for Jon-O, Andrea, Corey, and me to stay. Nowhere had any affordable openings. We liked the capsules so much we just decided to go back. So after a huge and nice lunch of Dimsum (Chinese food) the four of us headed out to see the fabled temples of Kyoto. Unfortunately rain and hordes of tourists followed, as did getting lost and high winds. We eventually found a nice small temple dedicated to famous Japanese Magicians and a small neighborhood temple. Then the rain picked up a little and we took shelter in a itty-bitty coffee shop where I drank hot cocoa and exchanged more stories. Home to Osaka, capsule pass out, up for breakfast (rice, meat, and raw egg) and back to Kyoto. Sunday was incredibly successful. We started the day off with a small shrine that was connected to a mountain top monkey park! After a twenty-minute hike up a very beautiful red and orange themed forest walk we reached the top. Here hoards of monkeys ran amongst the humans clearly showing their control of the situation. There were park hands with brooms that walked around poking at the more aggressive primates, but it seemed to do little more than agitate them more. Though intimidating, these creatures were remarkably cute, and the views of Kyoto were incredible.

Quick lunch and a riverside walk later we found ourselves in a bamboo forest with light filtering through the tops of the trees like tiny spotlights. Lonely Planet suggested getting out of Kyoto to the more rural communities and temples so we went to a beautiful neighborhood and found a huge wonderful temple. In the height of the leaf season, I walked amongst trees ablaze with red and yellow and thought of the spirits that this temple was surly meant to pay homage to. These temples are all across Japan, but this little gem hidden away in Northern Kyoto drove their purpose home. Then after a bit more neighborhood wandering the four of us boarded the subway for a final time. We said our goodbyes all too quickly on a train, and I must say it hurt as bad as it always does. When you leave the company of those you are most comfortable with it feels like a part of you is missing. So with a heavy heart I gave Andrea and Corey each a quick hug that betrayed exactly how little I liked seeing them go, and watched them quickly disappear from sight. (A note to them if and when they read this. THANK YOU BOTH SOOOOO MUCH! What memories we created, and what sights we’ve seen. I’m so glad I got to share them with you. Thank you, thank you.) Jon-O and I then jumped back onto the night bus and rode back to Nagasaki for Monday classes, smelling only slightly stinky from all night travel. I also want to take just a moment to thank Jon-O for being my travel buddy, good friend, British travel connection, fellow bar philosopher and Japanese interpreter. I wish my friends back home could meet him. He’s 6 feet 5 inches of great “proper fun”.

This whole trip was remarkable, and showed me that you’ll never ever see it all. Kyoto has so SO much more to offer than I got to see. I have a sneaking suspicion that I’ll be saying that about Japan in two weeks when I bid it farewell. Until next time.

Things To Be Thankful For

It is three minutes to sunset on the Saturday after the American holiday of Thanksgiving. I am standing atop the tallest mountain in Nagasaki, looking from the roof of an outlook center down onto the mini metropolis I have come to love over the past eight and a half weeks. I’ve seen and felt many great things, yet there is still so much to be done. Every day I find myself tallying up the things yet unseen that must be seen. I have yet to see Nagasaki’s most important (purely my opinion) attraction, the Peace Park and Atomic Bomb Museum. I find that my mind is crowded with a sense of urgency. I cling to the feelings of surprise that come when a Japanese taxi driver impresses me with his level of English comprehension and I eat up every sentence of English broken by hand gestures, Japanese, and laughter that comes from my friend’s mouths. I have a mere four weeks left now and it seems like so little. This weekend I watched the neon lights of Nagasaki ripple through the valley like wind through tall grass as night fell, and I saw friends smile as the red, setting sun was lost behind mist and clouds.
On a lighter note I also saw many many penguins. K took 20 of the exchange students to the Nagasaki Penguin Aquarium. It was small and understaffed but the cute awkwardness of penguins overcomes feelings of discontent, and reflective aquarium glass makes for interesting picture taking. After watching these little guys for some time my friends and I all piled into three rental cars and strapped in for one of the scariest rides of our lives as EO drove us to Mount Enasa for sunset watching. No offense to EO but by the gods in heaven and Valhalla Japanese traffic is 10 times scarier than any driving I have ever seen in the States. Narrow roads and seemingly no speed limits equate to a mad cap race around bustle that keeps the passengers and drivers on their toes at all times. I’m sure it really is much less dangerous than I imagine it, but at the time, it felt like every red light was a gift from some divine force that allowed me to loosen my grip on the seat.
This weekend was quiet, but much needed. I have purchased my tickets for an overnight bus trip to Osaka to meet up with my dear friend Andrea. I will be gone this coming Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. I’m also planning to visit Kyoto, which is the ancient capital city of Japan. Through World War II it was one of the few cities that sustained little damage so all of the temples and shrines are old as can be. I look forward to writing about that experience.
All in all this weekend was a much needed rest before the storm of my last few weeks. I can hardly imagine coming home on essentially the doorstep of Christmas morning. Strange to imagine that I will have to re-adjust myself to American living. Love to all those I couldn’t call and wish happy Thanksgiving. I miss you all, and wish I could share more. . . but some would argue that my silence says it all.

Until next time.

Enter Thunder-dome!

In a word Sumo is heavy. Laugh all you want. I’m not just talking about the girth of the individuals that practice this ancient sport. When I say it is heavy I mean, HEAVY: soaked, steeped, deep, multi-layered . . . I’m talking about Grateful Dead “Dark Star” heavy. Or, even maybe heavy like Freud’s philosophies. Anyway, Sumo is virtually built from the ground up in Shinto and traditional Japanese beliefs. The ring may only be made from special mud taken from a traditional spiritual center of a river that runs through Tokyo which is where the Sumo world’s epicenter is located. Everything is meticulously planned, down to the color of the floor cushions the viewers sit on. The indoor Sumo arena even has an artificially constructed period {Yayoi 300a.d.) hut roof suspended from the ceiling.
A Sumo tournament can only happen on the odd months of the year and lasts for a week, as I understand it. Each of the virtually thousands of would be Sumo stars wrestles once a day during this week. Their ranking is determined by the number of winning tournaments the have. The highest rank is currently held by two Mongolians who are seemingly unbeatable.
But enough of the specifics. . . plainly Sumo is a great time! It is tradition to bring a nice bento box filled with sushi and other tasteful treats and a nice 6 pack of your favorite beer or bottle of sake and spend the whole day at the Sumo match eating, drinking, and talking with friends. It was really great though because when you walk to the snack bar you actually walk though the Sumo’s waiting room, and these were some of the most intimidating men I’ve ever seen. Anyone who thinks they are simply giant fat slobs is sorely mistaken. These men are so large and muscular they make me feel tiny. Their flexibility is amazing as well. Just for fun try and squat as low as possible then lift your left leg, keeping it straight, to a parallel line with your shoulders, then repeat with the other leg. So after walking amongst these giants I proceeded to watch them battle it out for most of the afternoon. Their one shot is incredibly intense. If any part of their body aside from the bottoms of their feet touches the ring it is over they’ve lost. Strangely, I don’t think I’ve been as pumped up by a sporting event as I was when I saw my first Sumo flip. One man simply picked his opponent up and spun him over on his back. It was ridiculous. I’ve taken some pictures, but the lighting was terrible and they hardly seem to do the athleticism or impressiveness of them any justice. What fun! I’m finally done with the two huge projects that were due last week and am starting on the other projects I have so hopefully I’ll have a little more time to write. Love to all my friends and home.

Until next time!

God and the Golden Field

I’m sore and cold and my stomach may never be the same again, and I’ve just had probably the single most empowering and spiritual experience of my life. Just 24 hours ago I finished backpacking in Northern Kyushu. Mark T., Johnny (his son), Danny M. (older friend of Mark T.), Danny (my roommate), John-O, and myself decided to climb the second tallest mountain in Kyushu for fun. It was a two hour drive from Nagasaki to the base of the hiking trail. After donning our packs we headed off into a field of wheat-like 5 foot tall golden grass. These golden fields were accented by crisp blue skies and ominously tall orange brown mountains in the distance. We hiked a good hour and a half of hard up hill climbing until the mountain finally leveled off. Then, in a very Land Before Time moment, we crested the hill and looked down on a great valley of rippling golden grass, with a dark blue river cutting through it, and mountains steaming with volcanic activity on all sides. Add a quick forty minute hike down the hillside and with rubber legs we set up camp. This was easily the most spectacular place I’ve ever spent a night! The sounds of rushing water and wind rushing through grass made campfire chili that much better as we settled in for the night. As soon as it got dark it dropped to freezing and all the dew from the day froze creating a cold hard shell over everything. Luckily we had harvested a small forest worth of firewood to get us through a night of stories. The next morning came all too soon as we got up at 9 and ate a rushed breakfast. This was the big trek up the second tallest mountain in all of Kyushu. It was hard, but we didn’t have the packs this time so it went slightly quicker. After about three hours we reached the peak and oh what a glorious view it was. Clouds whipped around me and a frozen breeze chilled me to the bone, but I loved every second of it! At one point I mentally revisited my childhood fear of heights after looking down over a very steep drop off. So I crouched down between two rocks and watched the blasts of wind whip about through the ice encrusted azalea bushes that bloom pink in the spring. No fear, no remorse, just a sense of peace with the world and sheer wonder at the fact that I was having an experience like this. My sleep pattern needless to say has been greatly thrown off yet again and I’m drop dead tired. I’ve posted half of my photos from this trip and the days that led up to it. On flickr you’ll see some pictures of a family with a little girl dressed as a cat. They own a bar that loves Americans and serves the best fried chicken stomachs in all of Nagasaki. The man is hysterical, the woman is beautiful and 6 months pregnant and the little girl is cute enough to make your eyes explode! I’ve only been to the bar twice but they have come up and eaten lunch with me at the school many many times. There are also some pictures of my friends Charlie, EO, and K. Enjoy. I’ll put the other 50 up when I catch up on sleep. The weekend was such a joy! This trip is such a joy, and words will never do it justice. . . how can they.

do work!

Well, where to start. I’ll start with an apology for not having written sooner, but I’ve been totally exhausted. Last weekend was the university’s big student festival. During this festival students make international food booths and sell food for two days in the hopes of making a profit. This goes on as all the school clubs perform at a center stage that the food booths encircle. I made the ever American cheeseburger. It turned out wonderfully and we were completely sold out of burgers by 2:00 on the second day. It was fun and I got to know some of the other Jasin students a lot better however the festival days started early and ended late so sleep and relaxation did not happen. This week is also a big week in terms of my actual classes because I have several major projects due all at the same time so forgive me if this seems brief. I’m very very excited because this weekend I’ve been invited to go camping with Mark T., his son, John-O, and Danny in the middle of Kyushu’s deciduous forest. It also just so happens to be the peak of the leaf-changing season so it should be beautiful. I’ll have more later after things settle down a little.

All Night or Bust!

This is Mark T.



Once again it is Sunday and I am drop dead tired. This weekend was the JASIN program’s annual Halloween all night party hosted by the incredible Mark T. (Japanese Culture professor). Mark T. happens to live on the third most scenic road in all of Japan. From his back porch, which overlooks a coastal panorama dotted with skyscraperesque rock formations miles out to sea, I spent most of the night chatting away with an Argentinean Spanish professor and my fellow classmates. However I’m getting ahead of myself.

My weekend started in unrest with a trip to an old resort built in the mountains during Japan’s economic bubble. Unfortunately that bubble popped and places like this lovely country resort are understaffed and seem very much like a ghost town of the old west (complete with plastic bag tumble weeds). I came to the resort to help the college’s English department do a day long workshop with their 30 English majors. We spent most of the day in a clean, but drab, conference room playing games with freshman from Nagasaki University and just speaking in English. Aside from meeting some friendly but shy new people the highlight of this excursion was without a doubt the two hour lunch break that I used to explore the grounds of this strange mountain resort. There were marble fountains filled with water lilies, ram's head fountains, fields of purple and white flowers that stretched to the horizon, and two huge greenhouses filled with the best smelling roses in the world. All of these sights are maintained by a handful of landscapers who work all day to a droning child like theme that plays on continual loop over strategically place loudspeakers all throughout the park. If you’ve seen the film “Spirited Away” this place is right out of that film. This blog’s title is Wakarimasuka which translates to "do you understand"? I always mention the little moments of clarity that stick out week to week in my travels but to mention all of them would take more time than I have to write. Saturday’s moment of clarity came while standing amidst red and yellow roses that towered over me and listening to the mountain breeze blow ripples across the loose tarp that covered the green house. This rippling rustle blocked out all other sounds and for just one moment I wasn’t in a rundown resort anymore. Hell I wasn’t even in Japan anymore. For one moment I completely lost myself, and then in a second I snapped back and continued walking. It was wonderful.

After helping all day with the English students, Mark T. drove me back to his house out in the country. The sunset and the party began. Schoolgirls, witches, zombies, Edward Scissor Hands, Quail Man, and Ninja’s all came out for this event. Spaghetti and sangria were served and the dancing began. I’m not much for dancing so I spent the first four hours on the back porch talking about home and travels with the usual crowd (John-O, Danny, EO, Asaka, and so forth). Then around midnight Mark T.’s fellow professor friends showed up and brought the party to life. The music turned up, cameras came out, and for all, the good times truly rolled. At two thirty, when the younger kids were falling asleep Mark T. bellowed out a request for better dance music, made a round of coffee for the crowd, and kicked things into a triumphant round three. Then after a group picture, in costume, the rowdy professors left at 3:45 and the kids changed into normal clothing. John-O and I fired up Mark T.’s grill and literally threw some shrimp on the barby. Nothing is better than soy and ginger shrimp at 4 in the morning. After this feast of shrimp, kabobs, and giyoza (pot sticker dumplings) we decided to hike down to the beach to watch the sunrise over the ocean.


BEST IDEA EVER! The hike brought a wave of energy after a sleepless night. The beach had no sand; mostly cold black rocks and driftwood. So being the only somewhat outdoorsy person in the group I gathered some driftwood and started a fire to warm us all up as we waited for the sun to come up. And for those of you who have never done it, nothing is a better party trick than starting a fire with nothing but a lighter, gathered wood, and dry bamboo leaves.

So while sitting next to all my newly found friends on cold black rock, we warmed our hands over the small fire and watch in awe as nature continued the spectacle that is Japan in the early morning. I’m sure you are all wondering where the pictures of this magical event are. Regretfully my camera ran out of batteries on the ride to Mark T.’s house and no one had any extra ones. Bummer right! Anyway, this weekend left me more tired than I ever thought possible, but the memories were well worth it.

Japan has now surpassed everything I could have expected, and gone seemingly beyond my ability to describe. There are many words for beauty. But, none of then seem to accurately represent the sights and feelings I’m experiencing on a weekly, perhaps daily basis. All I can do it seems is try my best to chronicle what I see and hope that the combination of captured images and my written interpretation of splendor can communicate on some level what I am experiencing here. I miss my friends and family very much back in the states and hope everyone is doing well. I’ll post again later this week.

Until next time. . . .

The Mountain, the Bibbed Buddha, and Everything Geothermic

It’s official I am trapped in a perpetual state of joy and wonder that is thankfully balanced by extreme exhaustion. If I didn’t collapse on to my bed by midnight every day my heart would surely explode out of pure wonder. This weekend my entire class went to Japan’s first national park, Unzen. The town of Unzen is built right below a Geothermic (word of the day, kids) Sulfur Spring. This means that scalding hot naturally heated sulfur water is constantly pumping through the drains of this small mountain town. This circulation of heated water give the town a very T.S. Elliot like feel as yellow white smoke curls around most of the buildings hiding Shinto gates, friendly cats, and fruit vendors. We stayed in a very nice hotel that has harnessed the water from the hot springs and pumps it into their huge bathhouse. Naturally this water, having a high concentration of sulfur, smells like . . . farts. In truth the whole town had a slight sulfur stink. I loved this weekend despite all that.

We started the trip with a much needed venture into the wilderness. Unzen is also home to one of Japan’s live volcanoes. The mountain we climbed is right next to this smoking, smoldering, heap of volcanic ash which is clearly and ominously visible from the top. The hike was a rather intense lesson in Mother Nature’s ability to create breathtaking, magnificent, ass-kicking landscapes. Most of the hiking was up hill and joyously physically challenging (I’ve been craving physical activity). There are many things I could say about breathtaking views after hours of climbing rocky, ankle turning, “steps” that led up to the summit, but none of those words seem to do it justice. The climb was simply everything I’d hoped to do in Japan. During my adventure I came across two Buddhas wearing bibs, overlooking the surrounding harbor and rice fields, a view of a rippling field of tall golden wheat like grass, and a freezing wind swept mountain top whose rocks have seen thousands upon thousands of faces come and go. After this epic five-hour hike, we raced back to the hotel, and slipped into comfortable mint green pajamas. The next two hours were spent talking about how unbelievably nice it is to sit in a warm room filled with steam and scalding water after freezing our buns off on the windy mountain decent.

One thing to know is that when the Japanese go to these bathhouses their goal is to take as many baths as possible during their overnight stay. It is common for most Japanese visitors to take upwards of 5 baths in one stay. Thus, the bathhouse stays open 23 hours a day. I find myself again at a loss for words to describe the joy of eating a simple and clean meal of baked salmon with miso soup, jasmine rice, and an assortment of pickles that look nothing like anything most western pallets would consider edible (all of them were delicious). All of this served with green tea and cold water, and just after dinner you return to the soothing hot waters for another soak. Then up to my culture professor’s room for a drink of Japanese Whiskey (they don’t make it very well) and down to the karaoke bar for fun with friends who sing just as bad as or worse than me. After a two A.M. round three of hot spring goodness, I crashed happily into my bed.


A quick note on my sleep in Japan. I don’t think I have ever slept so well for a month straight. No restless nights since the jetlag wore off.

The next day came and we were back on the bus and pulling away from the cool mountain air and smiling faces of the waving hotel staff (that’s right, the hotel staff comes out to wave goodbye to all their guests). We stopped at the actual geothermic geyser sight on our way out of town. This was a strange vision of a sci-fi moonscape combined with a Brazil- (the movie) esque piping system that runs the naturally heated water all through the town. It was great for taking pictures but hard on the nostrils.

I’m sorry, this post feels completely scatterbrained in comparison to the incredibly clear sensation I had while I was in the moment. I guess it goes to show that even though you write down your experiences and try to put emotions into words sometimes certain moments are simply indescribable. I can’t convey just how magical this weekend was but I hope that my pictures and these words give all those who can’t experience this with me a glimpse into my experience. Again I’ve posted everything on Flickr, and hope all is well with my friends and family.

Till next time.

Walking Dead

OK. . . so here is the deal. I've uploaded a whole slew of new pictures to flickr but it is late tonight and I have a very full day of classes tomorrow. I'll go into depth about my amazing weekend tomorrow, but for now I leave you with pictures and the promise of many great stories. Much love to everyone back home. I'm gonna pass out.

up to speed

This past week was relatively uneventful in comparison to the past two weeks. Danny, Jon-O, Xander, Chris, K, EO, and I went to Iojima again. Brought swimming gear this time and went for a very nice swim on a beautiful sunny day. We gave ourselves more time to relax in the hot springs this time as well. It was great, and helped me fall right to sleep Sunday night.
Many of you back home have been asking frequent questions about my classes, well here’s the skinny:

I am enrolled in Japanese Literature, Japanese History, Japanese Culture, Peace Study, Introduction to Japanese, Traditional Japanese Arts, Aikido, and an Independent Study. I’ve now been in each class at least twice so I’m past first impressions. In Japan classes meet once a week for an hour and a half. However, I have my language class 4 days a week (the more you use it the faster you can assimilate it). My favorite classes are without a doubt Peace Study and Japanese History. The professors are both English majors and history buffs, who also happen to be married to Japanese women from Nagasaki and have the cutest kids EVER! These classes are highly discussion based and go by very quickly. The culture class is interesting, but not as discussion focused. The literature class is more focused on learning about the culture, and reading a little of the literature (NOT WHAT I WANTED, but I like the professor and the discussion is interesting). Traditional arts and Aikido are not academic classes; they are ninety minutes of joy. My Aikido master speaks no English, is about 73, and pushes and throws me around like I were nothing. My traditional arts teacher varies from day to day, thus far we’ve covered Kimono wearing, Flower arranging, and Calligraphy. None of those instructors spoke any English either.

The random little moments continue to well up in day-to-day life. Last Wednesday it rained all day nonstop, full on, open the floodgates and let it go! At times I couldn’t see the town below my school.

More recently today I was reading for Peace Studies, and my friend EO (who is a 5foot fireball of joy) came up to me and asked what my major was. I told her English. Her eyes widened and a smile crackled across her face like lightning. She then shouted a stream of Japanese that I couldn’t begin to understand, and a few minutes later explained to me that English was also her major. She has asked me to, “Please helping me to study . . . Help me study English. It is difficult.” You have to understand EO is perhaps the physical incarnation of the friendliest puppy you ever met. She is a blast to be around. I’m finding more and more Japanese friends all the time, and I can’t even begin to say what a joy and help they are in travel and day to day life. I’ve updated Flickr again posting more photos. Keep the questions coming I’ll do my best to answer them.

To The Four Gates. . . MOTOCOII!!

I’m in a crowd of around three thousand cheering Japanese. It’s 2:14 and I’m watching a performance (the fourth one today) that hasn’t changed in 370 years. The crowd enters into a call and response cheer of motocoii , motocoii. . . . MOTOCOII! MOTOCOII! (come back, come back), and with it the taiko drums start up again with a violent torrent of heart pounding theatrics. A giant two ton float carried on the backs of sixty some Japanese men all singing their town's anthem comes crashing into the center arena. The men cheer to each other and spin the two ton hand made float 360 degrees with surprising speed. Then with great effort they hoist the float of the shachihoko (golden dragon carp) over their heads, and with a one, two, three . . . they throw the float, with children drummers still onboard, four feet into the air. Their hands shoot up in unison and the crowd goes ballistic. They chant and spin more and begin to take their leave. The masses scream MOTOCOII MOTOCOII!!! The group returns and throws the two-ton float three more times before rhythmically moving on to the next free demonstration.

That was just one of my experiences over the past twenty four hours of body punishing wonder that is Kunchi. Kunchi is a 370 year old Shinto festival that was created to expose illegal Christians in Japan, and also to celebrate the fall harvest. My Kunchi experiences started at 9:15 last night. Danny and I went to Suwa Shrine, Nagasaki’s largest Shinto shrine, to spend the night in possibly the most important ticket line of my life. The seats to the first performances of Kunchi were sold out many months ago for hundreds of dollars each, but like many concerts they reserve some tickets to sell at the door. So, 15 other JASIN students and I spent the night under four magnificent stone Shinto spirit gates all to get the FREE 5a.m. public seating. My night passed quickly. Most of my time was spent wandering lost in thought through the inner garden of the shrine. This garden was a green mass of gnarled trees, coy ponds, and chirping crickets that overlooked the fluorescent glow of the buzzing Nagasaki nightlife. 5 a.m. was announced with fireworks and drums. A short parade of priests lead us to our free vantage point under the huge doors at the top of a long flight of cobble stone steps. In actuality I had a very poor view of the opening performances, but the exuberance of the crowd, and the heart pounding drums and cheers made up for my less than desirable point of view.

The festival opened with the Celebration Boat float and traditional sword dance. Incredible to say the least, and the float ended it's fourth cycle of spinning and charging forward by releasing a flock of white doves. Danny and I decided to go home for a bit, try to sleep, and get up later for the town center performances that would be easier to see. I couldn’t sleep at all. The drumming combined with the festive colors of silk kimonos and beauty of the Japanese traditions picked me up and didn’t put me down until about an hour ago. We saw two other traditional dances and two more float performances today. The first float I described is the local favorite. Kunchi is not a Nagasaki only festival. In truth it happens all over Japan, but Nagasaki’s Kunchi is rumored to be more intense and diverse than any of the others. The most famous of all Kunchi performances is the Chinese Dragon float. This float is a massive dragonhead of wood and neon paint that has a snaking body supported by poles carried by men dressed in purple and gold robes. The pole bearers move the beast with surprising realism. Just ahead of the head a man in all golden robes carries a spinning golden ball. This “dragon ball” represents desire and physical needs. The dragon eternally peruses its desires but never catches them. Interestingly enough Kunchi is also a festival of fertility. The Dragon dance is an incredibly fast performance involving each man on the dragon dashing about in serpentine patterns after this golden figure, as a band of thirty people plays strange horns that sound like elephant screams, drums, and cymbals. Today truly was breathtaking. It is highly doubtful that my words can accurately describe the spectacle and wonder I threw myself into today. Kunchi will continue for the next two days. I hope to see the other five performances I missed. On the slightly materialistic side, every performance group has a bandanna that is unique to this year. They throw some of these into the crowd, but the shrine also sells a complete set of all of this year’s bandannas. For those of you that know me. . . this was a mandatory purchase. So my first souvenirs from Japan are seven beautiful bandannas.

One moment that really stuck out in the mass of incredible moments is a stunning example of Japanese kindness and spirit. Danny and I were on our way to get some water before we sat in line all night. Just outside of the convenience store a middle aged Japanese man stopped us and asked if we were Americans and were we here for Kunchi. We said yes, and he proceeded to gently but intensely insist on buying us beers in celebration. So for the next hour we sipped Asashi dry, and talked of our studies, lives, and the meaning of Kunchi. Our friend tried to buy us multiple more beers, and became very chummy with us as he drank more. We eventually parted ways to go stand in line. I find that level of generosity towards guests astonishing. I can’t imagine someone in the states just pulling me off the streets and saying, “are you here for the Honey Festival? LETS DRINK TOGETHER! WELCOME!” This country is full of that incredible kindness and generosity.

I’m deathly tired, and need to do homework. I’ve posted more pictures on flickr. Please, enjoy, and know that I wish that all of my friends and family back home could have experienced the past 27 hours with me.

this is what I'm spending my day watching! Much much more to come.

Born Out of Despiration.

Well folks it finally happened. I met the food that bested me. Tremble and cower in fear at the name of Natto.

Natto is a four step process: step 1. place rotten soybeans in a bowl, step 2. mix in the black mystery sauce (this should produce a grey white film on the beans and serves to get the fungal aroma started, step 3. mix in remaining two clear mystery sauces (this, once stirred well, will produce a thick stringy slimy texture), step 4. eat natto. Natto can be mixed into virtually any food, our host mother said to eat it on rice.

Natto has what can best be described as a virulent taste. Imagine if you will the smell of 6 day old coffee grounds left in the sun. Now taste that smell and mix it with the texture of something slug like and perhaps a little bitter lettuce or old lemon. That is what it is like to eat natto. If you should come across this food in any of your travels I recomend you try it and then make the decision for yourself. However, I`ve made my choice, and from now on I`m staying far . . . far away from natto.

Spider alley soul search’n!

Last time I posted I jumped to the conclusion that my trip was full of little moments that inspired incredible joy within me. This weekend was an overwhelming block of those moments; so much so that it is safe to say this adventure has consumed me. This weekend I started off with the mission of familiarizing myself with my surroundings. Sumiyoshi is the young, hip, and affordable place to go in Nagasaki City. It is overflowing with internet cafes, 100 yen stores, clothing, toys, street vendors (with some of the strangest sweets I’ve ever seen), dried fish and kelp shops, and fresh locally grown fruits and veggie stands. Walking down the streets of Sumiyoshi is a full frontal assault of the pleasure sensors. You walk through a cloud of steam billowing from a basket, and smell the sweet sourish smell of steamed sticky. At the same time you can see the flashing red and yellow sign of the internet café in front of you blinking in time with the shouting of the fruit vendor ten doors up. There was even a puppy store (yes, even the dogs are small here)! Sumiyoshi is about a 15-minute walk from my home stay, and is also where my host brothers and I catch the bus to school.

After exploring the main streets of Sumiyoshi, John-O (a British friend), Daney, and myself decided to explore the back streets of town, and started climbing. After walking past many beautiful little homes and countless views of sardine can housing our journey ended in someone’s back yard. Thus we turned around only to find that the downhill trip would be a little more difficult. There are huge golden yellow, black, and red spiders from hell EVERYWHERE in the back alleys of Nagasaki. Though they don’t seem aggressive or very mobile they spin massive webs. These death snares are spun between the telephone poles of the alleys at just about the six-foot mark. Thus the Japanese seem to have very little reason to fear these arachnidian demons. I would compare our trip down the hill as nerve wracking at best. We hunched over and sped through the trenches under meticulously spun webs that I would have appreciated were it not for their tenants. This was however only a short encounter, and that hill is now known as spider alley. No one goes there. . . EVER!

Today started with a cooling downpour during a breakfast of Texas toast with grape jelly and a fried egg (not very Japanese I know). Then with umbrellas in hand my host brothers and I walked to the Sumiyoshi trolley station, where we met with two new found Japanese friends (Tomo and Asako) and four of our fellow Jasin students. After paying the 100-yen (one dollar) ticket we rode for about half an hour down to Nagasaki harbor. There we decided to go to the small volcanic island of Iojima (not the famous Iwo Jima). Unfortunately we missed the first ferry, but this led to an hour and a half romp/ photo session in the Nagasaki Bay Park and harbor. This park looked out over the Mitsubishi boat yard (the target of the Nagasaki bombing in 1945). Japan does not have an army. They have a “Defense Force” which was in full show at the harbor in the form of four huge battle ships at dock.
Anyway, many many pictures later we boarded the trolley for a wonderful fifteen-minute boat ride to the island. The island was a complete and total joy. Unlike Nagasaki city there were very few people there. We found a beautiful clean beach, rolled the pants legs up, and waded out into the joyously cool water. Some of the more rambunctious guys stripped down to their boxers and went for a swim to escape the still and sticky air. Then after about two hours we headed to the island hot springs. This was to be my first Japanese bath experience, and I had my doubts; hot humid climate meets even hotter natural hot springs? Doesn’t make much sense. . . right? WRONG! It was incredible. The heated salty with a hint of sulfur water was relaxing beyond belief, and actually made the sticky air seem cold. We stayed in the stylish spa for quite a while, and just as the sun started to set we got some cold refreshments and sat in the harbor talking about friends with bad tattoos, exotic meals, and hopes for next weekend. Finally we pulled away from the island of Iojima as the setting sun disappeared behind its mountain and surrounded it with an orange yellow halo. Incredible spas and beaches. . . I must be spending a fortune right?
WRONG AGAIN.
Turns out when you buy your ten-dollar ticket to Iojima you get a free day pass to the hot springs, so everything I did today cost a total of about sixteen dollars.

When you smile or laugh, the world’s problems seem to peel away from you in layers. You give more of yourself to those around you, and smiles come easier than before. It is indeed a different world here, but I’m quickly seeing those around me smile more as we peel more and more layers away. Classes start tomorrow and with them the long awaited arrival of all the Japanese students. Tomo and Asako are wonderfully light hearted and have smiles that take away all the harshness of city life. I’ve posted all of my pictures from this weekend on my Flickr site so to see the full set go to this web page. (sorry havn't figured out how to put them up on this site yet. . . .)
http://www.flickr.com/photos/9898906@N04/


Until next time.

Blur. . .

My days seem to run all together, swirling into a torrent of spinning images and flashing lights. I think I’ve been in Japan four full days now, but the days go by so quickly I’m unsure. The bus from Fukuoka was a breathtaking two-hour drive. The Japanese countryside is a lush mix of greens and yellows complimented by cloud formations that mimic freeze frame avalanches rolling down invisible blue grey mountains. Large Japanese farmhouses dot the countryside and flat valleys. Their fields full of rice ready to be harvested run right up on the homes stonewall fence. No space is wasted here. As the bus came closer and closer to Nagasaki the hills turned into sharper topped mountains of bamboo and evergreen forests interrupted by terraced hillside crops of mikkan (a Japanese tangerine). The first view of Nagasaki and its bayside harbor was like being back in Hawaii. My school also happens to be on one of the tallest hills in my area. So every classroom has a view to die for of the bay surrounded by sharp green hills.

Now begins the times of blurred memory. Orientation starts each day at the college with a 15-minute hike up the hill in the brilliant morning sun (our bus only goes to the bottom of the hill). However! The constant view and breeze make the heat and slight workout worth it. The entire campus is only three building, one of which is a clubhouse. Ever day when orientation lets out at five my two home stay “brothers” and I have an hour and a half walk home. This walk takes us through what I imagined big city Japan to look like. Huge neon happy suns on white billboards slurping up Raman stands above fresh fruit and vegetable markets, toy stores, and cell phone companies line the safety of the sidewalk. The streets are a chaotic mess of small people on motor scooters and in compact cars zooming about with no obvious rhyme or reason. Mixed into all of this are the perfectly kept personal gardens of Nagasaki’s residences. Each tree, shrub, and flower is trimmed and placed meticulously to be part of a greater picture that is elegant and simple.

My host family, the Sakimora family, speaks virtually no English. This tends to make communication very difficult when I speak virtually no Japanese. Thankfully, I have two host brothers, Daney and Chris, who speak enough Japanese to get us through. Even so, meals, which are the only time we really see our host parents, are a two hour joyous combination of laughter, great food, big smiles, broken Japanese, and colorful hand motions. I’d say we communicate mostly in a charades like game of chance. We’ve had tempura, sashimi, grilled fish, chicken and corn dumplings, and Champon [Nagasaki’s signature noodle dish. Created by the Chinese originally and adapted by the Japanese because Nagasaki was for many years the only open port of Japan.] All of which were delicious and leave me feeling clean and refreshed after dinner. While dinner has been perhaps the most stimulating part of my days thus far it leaves me exhausted, and with a lightheaded feeling like I imagine having my brain strapped into one of those electronic muscle stimulators would feel. Thus I retreat with my roommate Daney to our next door four room apartment. There we sit on tatami mat beds and talk about our goals for our time abroad and families back home. Then a quick cold shower to beat the night heat and I crash into my bed and sleep coverless through the warm Nagasaki nights.

This trip has been full of little moments that seem to inspire great levels of joy within me. The most noticeable thus far was today on our walk home. Close to the end of our walk a small Japanese boy started walking nervously beside us. He laughed at our size first, and then stayed about ten paces back. I unintentionally started to whistle a Radiohead song. The boy began to whistle along with me. I stopped, laughed, and then listened to what he was whistling. Then I started responding to his whistles by adding one note to his song. This continued and built into quite the complex line of whistles that lasted for around twenty minutes. Then at a fork in the road he started down the opposite side of the street. He turned and shouted, “SEE YA!” And, with a small wave he was gone and the moment was over. It just seemed to brighten up my day, and helped to take my mind off the heat.

This is truly a different world and I can’t wait to explore it more this weekend, and start taking pictures. I just bought batteries for my camera so I’ll post pictures soon.

And he's off

OHIO!
Ok, so a quick update while I have the benefit of a speedy internet connection. Kampi (Cheers) ! After almost a full 22 hours of traveling I made it to Japan. I got into Tokyo around lunch and finally made it to Fukuoka around 8:30 - 9:00ish. The longest flight, Chicago to Tokyo, felt surprisingly short. I comfortably lasted the 12 or 13 hour flight with my own personal TV monitor in front of me and a very friendly older Japanese woman beside me. Communication was attempted several times but was not especially successful. I believe the only English word she knew was sorry. Anyway, I’m off to catch a bus to Nagasaki, and meet my host family. More when stuff settles a little.

A Short History

For those of you who don’t already know about my up and coming journey, my name is Andrew and I am going to spend three months studying in Nagasaki, Japan. This trip started in earnest over a year ago when I began my search for the perfect travel abroad agency to take me to Japan. I found one that took me to Nagasaki shortly after Christmas.
The reasons behind Japan are largely personal, and have little base in academics. I have always felt a strong pull towards the foods and cooking styles of the Far East as well as the austere artistic style that I always thought was Japanese. Simple clean lines used to accent and enhance the incredible beauty of nature. Ever since I was a kid I also had the secret desire to be a Samurai. I’d chop wildly at pokeweed plants with a hand crafted plywood katana my father made me. I’ve since given up on such wild dreams, and moved on to more tangible goals. I want to experience literally everything I can physically stand in Nagasaki. I wanted to eat fresh tuna sashimi, buy beer out of a vending machine, climb Fuji San, visit a peace park, walk with bare feet through a bamboo forest and listen to the wind rattle through it, be pushed onto the bullet train by small men wearing even smaller white gloves. Needless to say that is only a fraction of my goals and desires.
While I have my own agenda I am actually going to study in Japan. I am enrolled through the University of Wisconsin in The Nagasaki School For International Foriegn Language Study, or the JASIN program for short. While I have not signed up for classes yet (we do that upon arrival) I hope to take classes largely in traditional and modern Japanese Literature and Art. I will be living with a host family and two other American boys who I know nothing about. . . whatever.
I leave in 9 days now and I must say the pressure is mounting. True to form, I have not even thought about packing yet, but intend to begin tomorrow. I hope all of those who read this account of my travels find it interesting and enjoyable.