I can hardly believe that it has been a year since we landed on Japanese soil. We have done and seen so many things that it feels like an entire lifetime has passed. On the other hand, it seems like just yesterday I was sitting on the porch of the mountain house basking in the glory of the Colorado sunshine. I can safely say that this is the most at home and comfortable I have yet felt. Perhaps this is caused by falling into a routine and adapting to the new culture. Maybe it's because I can almost have a conversation in Japanese (this language is ridiculously hard). It could be because we have adopted new amazing friends and find ourselves socializing with more and more people more often. Whatever the reason, and it really doesn't matter, I can officially say that I have never been happier with our spontaneous decision to leap the ocean.
I have learned so much about myself, about Rob, about Japan and Japanese life, and about the world as a whole. I have always been a proponent of world wide travel, and have enjoyed it for as long as I can remember (thanks mom), but actually residing in a foreign country has been a completely new experience, for obvious reasons. With a more in depth look at a country I have really started to understand the way things are, and become accustomed to that. I must admit, the more I get to know Japan, the more I love Japan. Granted there are still and will always be things that completely urk and confuse me about this country. There will always be certain places and faces that I miss about my home, and can't wait to see again, but the most important thing is to enjoy what I have when I have it, and right now I have Japan, and I love it.
Yeah, there's not much for good quality beer and pizza. There are gender roles that I will never be able to accept. My friends and family are so, so far away. And what I would give for a night of high quality music and dancing. But living in such a safe, beautiful, clean, kind, and interesting place full of juxtapositions certainly gets my blood flowing and my soul yearning for more. Good beer and pizza, I can painstakingly admit that I can live without, because I'm a gaijin I am excused from disobeying gender roles, and how did people ever communicate without Skype?
The number one thing I have learned through my travels now and previously, is that it is so easy to take things for granted. Once you are removed from a place or situation, once something is taken away from you, or you leave, you realize how great everything actually was and how little you appreciated it. I am doing my very best to not let that happen with my time here in Japan. I vow to appreciate and love what I have while I have it, and in case you haven't heard I love Japan.
May 20, 2012
May 4, 2012
Hike One: April 22
We commute by train to a town called Tenri in Nara Prefecture. There are a few transfers and we find ourselves on a local train with the local high school sports team, which I find out later are quite well known for their skill in baseball. The hike begins with a walk through a shopping arcade and we begin to feel as if we stepped into a new world. A world that is quite rural with seldom seen gaijin roaming the streets. I immediately begin to feel the eyes and thoughts of our fellow wanderers. Without further thought, we continue our meandering of the locally owned shops selling everything from slippers to calligraphy brushes to homegrown daikon. As we emerge from the arcade we continue our hike through parking lots and use convenience stores as our landmarks.
We come upon the first shrine of the walk called Isonokami which is enclosed in a thick cedar forest. We stroll through the natural colored torii and hear roosters calling out to us. It seems as though there are several who are lucky enough to call this haven home. We wander here for a moment, check out the famed seven bladed sword and pull out our rain jackets to continue in the drizzle passing by ponds and country houses as we go, always with the city of Nara keeping an eye on us from the distance.
Being that it is a hike and all I expect to be led into the lush forested hills but instead we work our way alongside them through farm land and persimmon tree groves. There are newly sprouted flowers blossoming left and right and the rain leaves a sweet, fruity aroma lingering in the air. We walk past pheasants and snails and toads, but not many fellow humans. One of the few other people we see is a middle aged man who points us in the right direction when he sees two Americans pass by. We stop to eat our sandwiches at Yatogi Shrine under the protection of its thatched roof. It feels completely surreal to be here and I am doing my best to absorb the moment.
Mostly we enjoy being outside and seeing yet another new side to Japan. There are several sites along the way; moated villages with traditional homes, shrines, temples and burial mounds. The rain eventually lets up and the sun begins to descend. This is generally a well known pilgrimage path and many of the farms seem to sell whatever produce they've cultivated to the passersby. For whatever reason, possibly the rain, we are alone today and the goods are nonetheless sitting out next to a coin box waiting to be purchased. At one point we splurge on a bag of delicious Japanese bitter oranges and enjoy a snack.
We come to one temple whose gates are closed, but I follow Rob over the barricade and up a trail into the forest. We follow it for about 15 minutes through bamboo, sakura and down some steep stone steps. Finally we encounter the main area and realize we took the unconventional back door route. After exploring the grounds for several minutes we realize the day is waning and put in effort to not be straggling in the unknown area too much after dark. The sunset is lovely and we enjoy more country side. The path leads us on short bursts through the darkened muddy forest with streams trickling, owls hooting and frogs croaking. We arrive to the final shrine of our trek and are pleasantly surprised. Still no one else is around but many lanterns are burning bright along the paths and it is dark enough to make a dramatic affect.
Hike Two: April 29
We wake up early in the morning to a 'not a single cloud in the sky' sort of day. Eager to start a new adventure we hop on the basu (bus) and then the densha (train) to Kyoto station, we meet our friends the British couple, Simon and Libby and hop on another densha bound for Shiga-Ken. Biwa-ko, the largest lake in Japan dominates this prefecture, we have yet to see it and just the view out the window excites us. Simon has borrowed a map from a coworker of his and leads us past rice paddies and waving working men, this time into the thicket and straight up the mountain. The first portion is all this, straight uphill and very strenuous. We stop many, many times, to catch our breath, but really to look at our surroundings and let a few Japanese people pass us. Two women pass us wearing serious hiking boots, leg warmers over long underwear, shorts, long sleeved shirts, sun hats, and gloves. A friendly "atsui desu nee!" is shared among us, but they quickly warn us about how chilly the peak will be. The 90 degree weather leads me to believe otherwise and I am happy in my shorts, tank top and Chacos.
Upwards and onwards along the path through the forest filled with wide trees, butterflies and our heavy breaths as we go. Finally, we see the light at the end of the tunnel and prepare for an easier walk across the ridge. This also leads us to one of the highlights; the crickety, old, wobbly, narrow bridges we cross over while holding on to thin, fraying rope tied to stakes in the mountain side, many of which hold very little purchase in the ground. Sometimes they are over streams and small waterfalls with the sound of toads, sometimes it is too sketchy to actually walk on the bridge and instead we walk in the dried gully.
We arrive to the top, which in the winter is used as a tiny ski hill, and munch our lunches on one of the provided picnic benches. Then we continue on to a second peak, first a steep downhill, then a steeper uphill. I am quite exhausted and don't believe I'll make it, but it goes quickly. If it were a bit more clear the view of the lake would be incredible, as it's hazy today, I can't exactly tell where the lake ends and the sky begins, but it's beautiful all the same. The woods we are marching through are eerie and strange and the loud speaker played from the ski runs the next hill over add to that. We come across a small puddle sized pond and have to examine a strange snake shaped, jelly consistency thing that contains black dots. We have our guesses, but none of us have ever seen anything quite like it. I assume it's alien eggs. Alas, it's merely toad eggs according to the internet.
We then go on to a third peak. It is not as strenuous as the last two, but is still quite a trek. All in all I wouldn't be surprised if we had done about a mile of vertical hiking this day. Each peak offers a unique environment, with different trees, trails, sounds and views. It is one of the most diverse hikes I've ever been on.
Finally we're on the descent. It feels good, but I quickly remember downhill is often as painful as up. Unprepared as we were Rob and I ran out of water on the way up, we weren't expecting such a serious hike, about half way to the bottom we go around a large boulder and hear a stream from the other side. There is water sprouting from somewhere underneath the boulder. Upon closer inspection, we find 2 cups that are set aside for drinking and have at it. It is the most delicious, clear, fresh water I have had the opportunity to swallow. I should note here that is quite common in Japan for temples and shrines to have a fountain where you can drink and cleanse yourself. If the water is not for drinking it will be clearly posted and many shrines that are tucked away in nature are sourced by a natural spring. They are all over Japan, warm and cold. At any rate, it's delicious.
The entire way down all we can think about is biiru and have to stop at the nearest Lawson in order to enjoy a brew on the train back to Kyoto. We go to an amazing Chinese restaurant Simon and Libby are familiar with, and then have our first experience at a standing bar, where the drinks are cheap and the company is good.
We commute by train to a town called Tenri in Nara Prefecture. There are a few transfers and we find ourselves on a local train with the local high school sports team, which I find out later are quite well known for their skill in baseball. The hike begins with a walk through a shopping arcade and we begin to feel as if we stepped into a new world. A world that is quite rural with seldom seen gaijin roaming the streets. I immediately begin to feel the eyes and thoughts of our fellow wanderers. Without further thought, we continue our meandering of the locally owned shops selling everything from slippers to calligraphy brushes to homegrown daikon. As we emerge from the arcade we continue our hike through parking lots and use convenience stores as our landmarks.
We come upon the first shrine of the walk called Isonokami which is enclosed in a thick cedar forest. We stroll through the natural colored torii and hear roosters calling out to us. It seems as though there are several who are lucky enough to call this haven home. We wander here for a moment, check out the famed seven bladed sword and pull out our rain jackets to continue in the drizzle passing by ponds and country houses as we go, always with the city of Nara keeping an eye on us from the distance.
Being that it is a hike and all I expect to be led into the lush forested hills but instead we work our way alongside them through farm land and persimmon tree groves. There are newly sprouted flowers blossoming left and right and the rain leaves a sweet, fruity aroma lingering in the air. We walk past pheasants and snails and toads, but not many fellow humans. One of the few other people we see is a middle aged man who points us in the right direction when he sees two Americans pass by. We stop to eat our sandwiches at Yatogi Shrine under the protection of its thatched roof. It feels completely surreal to be here and I am doing my best to absorb the moment.
Mostly we enjoy being outside and seeing yet another new side to Japan. There are several sites along the way; moated villages with traditional homes, shrines, temples and burial mounds. The rain eventually lets up and the sun begins to descend. This is generally a well known pilgrimage path and many of the farms seem to sell whatever produce they've cultivated to the passersby. For whatever reason, possibly the rain, we are alone today and the goods are nonetheless sitting out next to a coin box waiting to be purchased. At one point we splurge on a bag of delicious Japanese bitter oranges and enjoy a snack.
We come to one temple whose gates are closed, but I follow Rob over the barricade and up a trail into the forest. We follow it for about 15 minutes through bamboo, sakura and down some steep stone steps. Finally we encounter the main area and realize we took the unconventional back door route. After exploring the grounds for several minutes we realize the day is waning and put in effort to not be straggling in the unknown area too much after dark. The sunset is lovely and we enjoy more country side. The path leads us on short bursts through the darkened muddy forest with streams trickling, owls hooting and frogs croaking. We arrive to the final shrine of our trek and are pleasantly surprised. Still no one else is around but many lanterns are burning bright along the paths and it is dark enough to make a dramatic affect.
Hike Two: April 29
We wake up early in the morning to a 'not a single cloud in the sky' sort of day. Eager to start a new adventure we hop on the basu (bus) and then the densha (train) to Kyoto station, we meet our friends the British couple, Simon and Libby and hop on another densha bound for Shiga-Ken. Biwa-ko, the largest lake in Japan dominates this prefecture, we have yet to see it and just the view out the window excites us. Simon has borrowed a map from a coworker of his and leads us past rice paddies and waving working men, this time into the thicket and straight up the mountain. The first portion is all this, straight uphill and very strenuous. We stop many, many times, to catch our breath, but really to look at our surroundings and let a few Japanese people pass us. Two women pass us wearing serious hiking boots, leg warmers over long underwear, shorts, long sleeved shirts, sun hats, and gloves. A friendly "atsui desu nee!" is shared among us, but they quickly warn us about how chilly the peak will be. The 90 degree weather leads me to believe otherwise and I am happy in my shorts, tank top and Chacos.
Upwards and onwards along the path through the forest filled with wide trees, butterflies and our heavy breaths as we go. Finally, we see the light at the end of the tunnel and prepare for an easier walk across the ridge. This also leads us to one of the highlights; the crickety, old, wobbly, narrow bridges we cross over while holding on to thin, fraying rope tied to stakes in the mountain side, many of which hold very little purchase in the ground. Sometimes they are over streams and small waterfalls with the sound of toads, sometimes it is too sketchy to actually walk on the bridge and instead we walk in the dried gully.
We arrive to the top, which in the winter is used as a tiny ski hill, and munch our lunches on one of the provided picnic benches. Then we continue on to a second peak, first a steep downhill, then a steeper uphill. I am quite exhausted and don't believe I'll make it, but it goes quickly. If it were a bit more clear the view of the lake would be incredible, as it's hazy today, I can't exactly tell where the lake ends and the sky begins, but it's beautiful all the same. The woods we are marching through are eerie and strange and the loud speaker played from the ski runs the next hill over add to that. We come across a small puddle sized pond and have to examine a strange snake shaped, jelly consistency thing that contains black dots. We have our guesses, but none of us have ever seen anything quite like it. I assume it's alien eggs. Alas, it's merely toad eggs according to the internet.
We then go on to a third peak. It is not as strenuous as the last two, but is still quite a trek. All in all I wouldn't be surprised if we had done about a mile of vertical hiking this day. Each peak offers a unique environment, with different trees, trails, sounds and views. It is one of the most diverse hikes I've ever been on.
Finally we're on the descent. It feels good, but I quickly remember downhill is often as painful as up. Unprepared as we were Rob and I ran out of water on the way up, we weren't expecting such a serious hike, about half way to the bottom we go around a large boulder and hear a stream from the other side. There is water sprouting from somewhere underneath the boulder. Upon closer inspection, we find 2 cups that are set aside for drinking and have at it. It is the most delicious, clear, fresh water I have had the opportunity to swallow. I should note here that is quite common in Japan for temples and shrines to have a fountain where you can drink and cleanse yourself. If the water is not for drinking it will be clearly posted and many shrines that are tucked away in nature are sourced by a natural spring. They are all over Japan, warm and cold. At any rate, it's delicious.
The entire way down all we can think about is biiru and have to stop at the nearest Lawson in order to enjoy a brew on the train back to Kyoto. We go to an amazing Chinese restaurant Simon and Libby are familiar with, and then have our first experience at a standing bar, where the drinks are cheap and the company is good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)