That's that

As you, intrepid reader, have long since figured out, I have stopped updating the blog.

When I came to Japan, I was eager to blog as a means of personal reflection as well as sharing my experiences in Nagoya, Japan with friends, family, and the rest of the world.

I have since discovered 2 things:

1. Writing a blog isn't as fulfilling as I thought it would be. I've found myself gravitating toward
e-mail exchanges, instant message conversations, and face-to-face Skype sessions with friends and family to be much more satisfying. I also very much enjoy the photography aspect. The Flickr stream will continue to be updated. The updates are not often, but they are fairly large.

2. Granted, it was something of an experiment, but I really had no grasp on how much time it takes to write well-edited posts that reflect my experience but are also easy to read. My language studies have taken a life of their own since I got here, and I simply don't have time for certain things. I literally spend 3 to 5 hours a day studying Japanese, and that's after having reduced my workload in order to stay healthy.

So I hate to say it, but the blog's gotta go (and obviously has.) I may use this space to reflect, nearing the end of my trip or on my return home. However, I think it's likely that I'll put the wraps on this project.

Japan has not only been a place of wonderful experiences and new people. It's torn some serious holes in a reality I once held dear, but now realize was not what I wanted. Sorry, that was really cryptic.

Essentially, while here in Japan, I have made great strides towards understanding what I want to do with my life: both in the concrete sense of career and in the less tangible sense of how I want my relationships with people to work for me. It's been very difficult at times, but I've made incredible progress towards being the person I want to be. I feel like "personal growth" isn't even a meaningful label anymore, because the person I was is either dead or dying. Rest assured, that's a good thing (and excuse the morbid image.)

If you are in a position right now in your life to experiment and try something you've always wanted to, but have been afraid of, I recommend closing your eyes and just doing it. I guarantee that whatever you fear most, you likely just haven't fully considered. Could it really be that bad? What's the worst thing that could happen?

I'm really serious about you taking your leap. I know firsthand now what it's like to be so afraid of something, you can hardly even think about it: it just slides off your consciousness like grains of sand. I also know firsthand that it's not nearly as bad as you think it is. If you have someone in your life you can trust, talk to them about it. Tell them everything. If you feel you can't, talk to yourself in ways you've never tried. Write a letter to yourself 5 years from now. Write a song. Speak your problems into a microphone, then play it back to yourself.

Thanks for reading. Please do keep an eye on the Flickr stream. Photography is something I really enjoy, so you can bet the pictures will keep coming.

Take care.

I'm not dead

Wow, sorry. Never meant to neglect you like this. Quick update: I'm doing quite well and my studies are moving along. I can sort of express myself-ish on a good day when I'm not nervous. That's pretty good progress consideration I couldn't have any kind of conversation when I got here.

Did you know that brown eggs are called red eggs in Japan? At least they are in the grocery store where I shop. Which is called "Valor," and has the slogan, "Quality Living, Good Price" emblazoned across the front of the building.

Right, so, Party of The Future. This was an event held at the house of a communications professor who has some pretty cool ideas about communication. The house was designed by this fellow and has a ground floor and 2 stories above with catwalks going over a courtyard. The idea behind this design is to facilitate interpersonal communication beyond a horizontal plane. It was interesting to see people try this out. We're so very used to communicating with each other on a physically level surface at a standard distance apart. Have you ever really thought about the way in which you talk to other people? I certainly didn't until I got here. Beyond the smaller personal space bubble, it was hard to not yell louder than I needed to speak to anyone above and below me. Also, I found myself talking louder when I was the higher up person.

The party was also a potluck. The food was good, and pretty diverse since the party was attended by many different people: families and individuals and people from a few different countries. Being from California, where we have access to awesome Mexican food pretty much all the time, I got a chuckle out of the Japanese version of chips and salsa. It was more like chips with tomato stew that had been carried through a room that may or may not have contained spices at some point in time. Also, it was a surreal experience to build a sandwich, buffet picnic style, only with chopsticks instead of my hands. It's surprisingly easy once you get over the mental block of lifting a slice of white bread on to your plate with sticks.

This trip was also Alisha and I's first real experience with a Japanese group effort. What would have been a four hour drive turned into a 5 when we made a convenience store stop five times. Granted, Alisha and I don't take any prisoners on road trips. And the fives stops themselves wouldn't have been that big of an issue. Everyone has to eat and use the bathroom at some point, fairly often in a car of 6 people. But do we really need to spend 15 minutes browsing the manga (comics) section of the store after everyone finishes purchasing their stuff. I'm making sound much worse than it was: the scenery was beautiful and our friends were very nice. Let's just say we weren't expecting it.

Next time I'll write about the trip to Nagano in-depth, sans head injury since you got that part already. Prof. Curtis, if you see this, I've been noticing just how many doors in Japan have handles on the push-only side. The things I wouldn't notice without your instruction.

I hope everyone is happy and healthy. Take care.

Osu-Kannon temple and market

Near where I live is a place called Osu-Kannon, home to aお寺(otera, “Buddhist temple”) and open air shopping center. Hereafter I’ll refer to it as a marketplace, but you have to understand that this place is essentially 8 city blocks of storefront, crisscrossing each other with multi-story buildings containing everything from thrift stores to luxury shopping (the kind where someone wearing expensive clothes follows you around to help you spend money faster).

Going from the subway station to the marketplace, you will likely pass through the temple gates and through the courtyard on the way. As I understand it, the patron of this temple is Kannon (I’ve also seen it spelled Kwannon, likely depending on what language it’s being transliterated from). Kannon is a goddess of mercy in Buddhism, and is often prayed to by persons who want assistance from the gods in getting something.

I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned it on this blog before, but scholars of Japan often stress that it’s a place of extreme opposites. This is certainly the case in Osu. The temple is an island of stillness and serenity in a sea of urban life: traffic, smog, high-rise buildings, dirt, convenience stores and people, always people. Stepping through the gates is like entering another world, which is mostly inhabited by pigeons.

Yes, you read that right. At Osu temple you can donate a token amount of money for some birdseed, or you can just hang out and feed them (they’re tame enough to handfeed) if you feel like it. Bear in mind, this is an ethnocentric summary since I’d bet there’s a reason for the pigeons which I haven’t yet found out. I thought you might find it interesting. The courtyard is an excellent place to just sit and reflect on your life in America and what you want to do when you graduate from school then make a mental list of what you need at the grocery store. The perimeter at ground level is obscured by trees, which also cut down on noise, so it’s very peaceful. The temple itself is also quite a thing to see. Unfortunately, the original structure was completely destroyed by fire during the Meiji period roughly 200 years ago. It was reconstructed (meticulously and accurately I expect, it being Japan) in 1970 and stands today as an amazing piece of architecture.

We went inside the temple for a few minutes, just to check things out. The interior was pitch dark except light coming in through the doors and a fire burning in the center of the room, beyond a waist high barrier which delineates public space. You couldn’t even see the far wall. It was very quiet inside and we observed a group of Chinese tourists praying and making offerings. I am not a religious person, but I make an effort to understand (or experience, when I can) other people’s religious practices. I’m a big fan of Buddhism for the most part, mainly because the most widely agreed upon tenants can be ham-handedly summarized by me as: your actions affect others, so take responsibility for them because in the end you’ll help yourself just as much. Also, don’t overcomplicate your life: do what you want in a way that is good for you but isn’t bad for others, including yourself. Come on, how can anyone disagree with that? Yes, yes, I know. Modern life, as defined by the “developed” world, makes it extremely difficult. You can’t even get a drink of water without progressing the chain of hydrocarbon dependence. Fortunately for us all, this is the Japan Adventure Time blog, not the Existentialistic Depression Time blog, so we’ll leave it at that.

The market itself is a remarkably overstimulating place, at least the first time you go. As I mentioned, you can find just about anything there (except cars and real estate). Yes, I mean that you can go to Osu to buy a shirt with humorously bad English, or you can buy a laptop and a washing machine. It’s a strange experience from my own cultural standpoint: all the stores are open to the outside (no doors) and you can buy computers and cameras and stuff. In the US, a similar arrangement would essentially guarantee that the merchandise was stolen. In Osu, the appliance stores have salespersons milling around, ready to tell you all about a microwave oven. There are duty-free shops, which require a certain amount of administrative communication with Japanese customs. There’s also a lot of awesomely good food; you can eat curry, burgers, tacos(!!), okonomiyaki*, and tasty, tasty ice cream, to name a few.

We’re heading to Kyoto early tomorrow morning, but I wanted to catch you up a little bit before then. Next time: Party of the Future and ryokan (Japanese-style inn).

*お好み焼き(okonomiyaki) translates roughly to “cooking as you like it” or “cook what you like.” Okonomiyaki is made of varying combinations of vegetables and meats, usually cabbage, mixed in batter according to the diner’s preference, then cooked flat on a grill. I’ve heard it referred to as “Japanese pancakes” or “Japanese omelets.” However one tries to describe it, it’s simply delicious. If you ever go to Japan, I strongly recommend eating it at least once wherever you go. It’s prepared a little differently in different regions of the country.

A man, a plan, a bath...an

Okay, so my plan is to catch you up in chronological order i.e. writing about the older stuff first and gradually coming up to the present. The only exception to this plan is an event that occurred during the Nagano trip weekend before last.

So, first things first. Japanese society and culture has a number of fundamental pillars which have influenced the development of the country for many hundreds of years. One of these is Shinto, an animistic religion, which I couldn’t possibly being to describe in this blog post. Shinto has a number of tenents, among the most important being cleanliness. There is a strong link there between physical cleanliness and spiritual cleanliness, which is why Japanese people remove their shoes before entering (most) rooms among other practices. Since cleanliness is so important, hot springs and public baths (and more recently, bathtubs) are central to everyday life. There are a few words in Japanese which have an honorific syllable (o- or go-) attached to them to indicate respect. The bath is one of them, being spelled as お風呂(ofuro, “bath”) in polite company. Times during the day to use the bath are usually upon waking, before dinner, or before bed. As I understand it, those are day-to-day times and when you’re vacationing it’s pretty much fine to go whenever and however many times you feel like.

So I’m in the bath at the retreat house in Nagano having a grand old time. The water is very hot and very relaxing. Japan is far less hung up on nudity than the United States (baths were not gender segregated until Christianity was introduced) so the atmosphere is casual. I’m talking about where I’m from with one of the Chinese students, switching between broken Japanese and broken English when I realize that we have to meet in the lobby for dinner fairly soon. I stand up from the bath and start walking over to retrieve my shampoo when I...

PREFACE FOR FAMILY MEMBERS AND OTHERWISE CONCERNED PARTIES: I am at this time okay with 2 very nicely healing wounds. No other residual damage exists. How are you guys doing?

...fainted. Apparently I didn’t realize just how high my body’s core temperature had become in the bath and, well, good night Gracie. I fell remarkably evenly on my right side, suffering small bruises on my right knee, elbow, shoulder, and jaw. On my hip there is an enormous bruise that resembles a Serat painting as well as a cut on my head, the last point to encounter the slate tile floor. Ouch. Luckily for me, the Chinese student and one of the other American students were there to help me gather my things and make sure I was alright. Ironically, I was the calmest one in the room, having ascertained that I didn’t have a concussion and, considering the head wound, I very small amount of bleeding. Quite a few years ago I broke my collarbone when the defective quick-release on my bike saw me traveling quickly forward and even faster downwards, my front wheel rolling just ahead of the part of the bike that it’s normally connected to. When the fork hit the pavement I basically flew straight over the handlebars into the street (was wearing a helmet, didn’t need it. Funny little world, eh?). I would go so far as to use the word “spectacular” to describe the whole affair.

Anyway, the pain of the event and subsequent recovery sans painkillers (which I was allergic to/didn’t work, don’t know why) ended up being pretty good prep for bashing my head into the floor. So now, when I come back and recount my trip for people, I’ll have an actual, physical scar to show off. Neat, huh?

All that being said, you can bet I’ll be back in the bath next chance I have. Now I know my limits, especially the part where you sit there and cool down as opposed to, you know, hurting yourself.

I’m happy to report that in addition to being physically sound, I’m doing much better in all other areas as they relate to culture shock. I realized after a lengthy discussion with Alisha that my expectations for myself were way way too high and that I just need to pace myself and be unapologetic for what I have no control over. She’s right, too. If I’m in this for the next 7 months, I do need to be more respectful of my limitations. I got to laugh at myself a little, too. I remember, going in to the trip, thinking “I’ll probably have come culture shock, but as long as I take it slow, everything should be fine.” Heh, yeah.

Next time: Osu market and temple.

Sorry, this one's sort of a downer.

Edited slightly for horrendous grammar and over-assertive cultural statements.

Wow, so much I want to write about. I need to catch you all up on what I’ve been doing since conveyor sushi. That same night we went shopping, browsing a bookstore and a clothing store. One of the stereotypes of Japan is that everyone is dressed to the 9’s all the time. There is some truth to this. Indeed, riding the subway day-to-day you will see, without fail, at least one man and one woman who look like they’re dressed for a modeling photo shoot. To give you the whole picture, you’ll see plenty of people who are dressed in what I would consider everyday attire. This stems from a fairly ingrained social construct which dictates a hierarchy of social projection that a person should strive to achieve. The ranking goes: clothing, then food, then living space. Here’s the logic behind it: everyone can see what you are wearing; there is now way to hide that. Some people will see what you eat, but only if they are present with you at the grocery store or in a restaurant. Lastly, the only way a person will see your living space is if you invite them in. So it’s not unusual for a high school boy (who must wear a school uniform with few options) to drop $200 on a pair of shoes or for a young professional woman to pay $200 for a Louis Vitton handbag. After all, the point of these clothes is to create a favorable impression on others. Especially since it’s customary to only interface with people whom you have an established relationship. If a stranger is staring at you on the bus, it could easily be considered strange or even rude to smile at them and strike up a conversation. If you care about their opinion of you, which most Japanese people probably would to at least a small degree, your appearance is the only means by which you can tell them about yourself. As always, this is not a silver bullet for understanding this part of social relationships in Japan. As I’ve said, it differs from person to person and there are always a few individuals who really couldn’t be bothered. But if you’re ever vacationing in Japan and wondering why you’re the only one without an invitation to the fashion show, that’s why.

An interesting aside about clothing: where I am in Japan (I can’t speak for any of the other urban centers), it’s a hugely popular style for woman to wear heels with those little ankle-high stocking, sock-like thingies.

On a more serious note, some of you may have read about or seen on the news that China recently suffered a 7.9 scale earthquake. If you are a resident of the United States, then like me, your idea of China might be that it’s this vague threat existing somewhere outside the scope of what you know but inside the scope of what you care about. It’s a sleeping giant, very powerful but probably morally inferior (you aren’t really sure) and a thing quite different from what you know that should be handled gently lest it wake up. On Wednesday I sat down in the International Center at school where they are kind enough to provide us with the Japan Times (in English) and CNN. In the paper I read that the city of Sichuan has a population of about 10,000 people. Over 8,000 of them are dead. In Juyuan, a three story high school collapsed with 900 students inside. In Shifang, two chemical plants were destroyed, releasing 80 tons of liquid ammonia into the environment, according to Yahoo News. The total death toll rests somewhere between ten and twenty thousand depending on who is reporting.

A simple truth struck me like a hammer on Wednesday: these are all people. They all had names, jobs, families, pet peeves, hopes for the future, you name it. China is an economic superpower and certainly not a force to be ignored. But behind the government, behind the state media, behind the Olympic propaganda, China is made up of people who aren’t all that different from you and me. They are just trying to live their lives and be happy in whatever ways they know how. Sure, you and I might find it strange and maybe even reprehensible to eat dog. A Hindu person would probably see eating beef as a horrific act of violence. No matter how big we get: families, towns, states and provinces, countries, we’re still just practicing tribalism. It’s quite natural as humans to get caught up in how your own tribe goes about life. We all need to remember, though, that the further down you go in the chain of needs, the more and more we resemble one another. What human on earth doesn’t want to be happy? Who doesn’t want to be loved? Who doesn’t want to be safe? Please know that this is not a soapbox admonishment, but simply encouragement. To many Japanese people, I am just as real as China was to me before Wednesday. It’s my hope that I can communicate even just a little bit of my experience to you as a foreigner and an outsider so that maybe we can all reflect a little bit on what our tribe tells us about ourselves and about the other tribes. My calligraphy teacher is Chinese and his pain, which came through very clearly in class on Wednesday, was no less real or strange or different than the pain I’ve felt at my own losses in life. Again, this is not a hippie rant, but rather my own attempt to facilitate a small expansion in our viewpoint. With nearly 7 billion people on the planet, we certainly need it, wouldn’t you say?

Anyway, I’m sorry to dwell on that so long but it was a stunning revelation and also a very sad moment personally. Tomorrow, the International Center is taking the exchange students to the school’s seminar house in Tateshina, Nagano (the province where the Winter Olympics were held in 1998). I don’t know what to expect but you can bet that Alisha and I will take a ton of pictures and write all about it when we return. That being the case, I haven’t even touched any of the subjects on my Post-It-Note o’ Blog Topics so you can bet there will be much for you to read in the coming days.

My apologies again for the long lag. As I said, I’ve started settling into a routine which had the unforeseen catalytic effect of ushering in Phase 2 of Culture Shock, which is sometimes referred to as the “Rejection Phase,” in which one’s negative perceptions of their host culture start to stick out disproportionately. This is the opposite of Phase 1, the “Honeymoon Phase,” where everything is new and awesome. Needless to say, Phase 2 sucks. It hasn’t put a big dent in anything, but it’s certainly no fun- either for me to experience or for you to read about. Believe me. That being said, I’m doing pretty good now and looking forward to the trip this weekend. More when I return!

Stay happy and healthy, and spend 5 minutes gathering in your head what you know about China then try and identify what’s fact and what’s not. Spend another 5 minutes thinking about what it might be like to be a Chinese person. The Internet will help a lot with this question.

So sorry!

Oh, dear. It's been quite a long time since I posted. Sorry! The upside to this is that I will have a novella ready for you to read the next time I write, which should be some time this week depending on homework.

All is well. I'm still working out a few kinks of living here but for the most part I've been moving on to my goal of language proficiency with fewer distractions. More later.

Conveyor sushi

Sorry I haven't posted for a few days. Things have been going pretty well and I'm settling down into more of a routine.

I learned yesterday that many people in Japan believe that clothes dried in the sun are healthier to wear versus machine-dried clothes. Good thing, too, given that space is always at a premium and consumer goods are generally expensive here. Growing up, we had a clothesline that we used about half the time, and I've used one on and off through college. Here, we dry our clothes exclusively on a line and I think I'll continue that practice when I return home. I was thinking about all the lifestyle changes I've had to make here and it made me feel good. That's part of the whole reason why I came here: to see how other people do it and try it myself.

Last night, Alisha and some of our friends went to a conveyor sushi restuarant (a first for the two of us). For those of you who don't know what conveyor restaurants are: you come in an queue for a table just like any other seated restaurant. Within the restaurant are booth style tables with all the little stuff like chopsticks, free green tea*, etc. Once sitting, at about shoulder height, there is a conveyor belt that snakes around every table in the place. On the conveyor belts are individual plates of sushi or other small items (like a hunk of sweet potato cake last night). When an item passes by, you simply grab it and eat it. When you're done, you're left with a pile of plates which will determine your bill. Every item is the same price (dessert was a little more last night), so you know what you're paying and you can eat right up to your level of hunger and/or finances in a fairly precise manner. You're also not constrained by having a large portion of one thing, so it's a snap to try new things, nor are you limited by any linear progression of courses. If you're still hungry after dessert then it's not a problem for anyone. When you're done you just hit a button/ring a bell and they tally your expenses right there. I've greatly enjoyed group dining in Japan so far because (in my limited experience) it's normal for everyone to pay individually.

On Friday we had another little welcoming party. This time, it was to introduce the ryuugakusei to the tutors that will be assigned to help us with anything from homework to translating the electric bill. It was a pretty low-key event with good food and we all did oral introductions which is a little stressful for everyone. I think everyone had a good time.

At the end, we all got together for a group picture. The manager of the international center here, who we discovered is a huge Star Wars/Harry Potter/you name it nerd, got everyone to smile by pulling a Harry Potter wand from his jacket pocket and waving it while saying "Wingardium Leviosa!" I got a good laugh out of realizing that he'd been carrying it around all day.

I also just recently learned how to express varying probability that an action or event will occur. Thanks again to Haruka for helping me out so much. Before coming here, I only knew how to express absolutely that something would or would not happen. Right after I arrived, I picked up たぶん(tabun, "probably") but I still found a need to express a low probability. Things are moving right along.

Not much else to report. The weather here has been on-and-off beautiful and miserable. I'm just waiting for the punishingly humid summer that everyone has warned me about.

*Green tea is the free beverage of choice here. If a restaurant doesn't have free water, they will have free green tea.