Home Again

In an effort to not fall asleep and totally screw up my sleep schedule, I'm attempting to stay awake until midnight. A hardy feat considering I slept a total of maybe 1 hour in the last day.

After 3 buses and 3 planes I've finally arrived back in Calgary, where there are blue skies and lots of greenery (for Calgary, this is strange). It looks like my bags vomited all over the floor but I'll worry about that tomorrow.

The only potential mishap I ran into was JAL telling me the weight restriction was actually set at 20kg, as opposed to the 32kg I thought it was. I was ready to cause a scene since my bag was placidly sitting on a scale that pronounced it to be 31.7kg. Thankfully, after some conversation, the baggage agent told me it was ok this time. When did they change their regulations? It was alright when I left Canada.

Oi, going to force one of my family members to talk to me so I don't go to bed. You'll hear from me soon.

Korea Redux and Australia

For the final holiday I will have before I leave Japan, Will and I ventured to familiar territory and, conversely, completely unfamiliar territory. Korea and Australia respectively. Korea I actually can't say much about. I already lived there for over a year and I saw nothing new. I did see a lot of my friends which was great and I ate tons of Korean food. From the ever-traditional, spicy kimchi-jigae to a strange Koreanized version of supposedly Chinese noodles, ja-jang-myun. Excuse my romanization. I'm not even sure how the last one is written in Korean.I was beyond happy to land in Australia. For one thing, the skies were a gorgeous blue without a cloud in sight and, zero humidity. The other more important thing was that I could talk and be easily understood. Not to mention I could easily understand what people said to me. This after living in Korea where I could understand but speak like a 2 year old and Japan where I can't understand anything and remain virtually mute. My own fault as I haven't taken the time to learn the language.After my initial euphoria over being able to talk subsided, I realized how tired I was after a nearly 10 hour, red-eye flight where I hardly slept. Thankfully, the hotel checked us in ridiculously early whereupon we immediately crashed for 3 hours.

Sydney, to me, is quite similar to Vancouver. Vancouver with an accent. It’s a fairly laid-back city, bordering the sea and with a good transportation system. I had some pronunciation problems, with Circular Quay and Bondi Beach. Quay is “key” and Bondi is “bond-eye”. Australian money I found to be confusing based on its size. The smallest coin is the 5 cent piece. The 2 dollar coin is smaller than the 1 dollar and the enormous 50 cent piece overwhelms all the other coins put together. The bills are made of plastic with parts that are completely clear. Americans are likely taken by the colourfulness but we Canadians already know the value of rainbow-coloured money.

Sydney City Rail trains have one simple innovation lacking from all other large cities in the world. They have two levels of seating available. Even during rush hour, most people are able to find a seat because of this. The first time I got onto one I was so impressed I wanted to run up and down the stairs to try out both levels. Ferries are also part of Sydney’s transportation network. On a day pass you could take as many buses, trains and ferries as you pleased.

Major Sydney sights (according to Yuri and Will) included the usual Sydney Opera House, Bondi and other various beaches, Sydney Harbour and the Royal Botanical Gardens. I dragged Will to a ballet performance of “Giselle” at the Opera House. I was enthralled but I’m not sure he was.

I enjoyed Australia but it was perhaps too close to Canada. Nothing seemed different enough to really write about. Just another western country.

The next time I write will probably be from Calgary. Looking forward to seeing you all!

Japanese Wedding Dress

Will's BOE asked if we wanted to have wedding photos taken, in traditional Japanese style. We both thought this would be a very interesting thing to take part in, and as I love dressing up, we agreed.

Upon arriving in the photo studio, we were ushered upstairs and given the usual complementary coffee and sweets. After sipping and munching for about 10 minutes, the wardrobe lady arrived, bearing rather large cases in hand. An excited Yuri was taken into the dressing room.

Let me tell you, I very much admire Japanese ladies of long ago who had to wear fancy kimono on a daily basis, or at all. The bride's regalia includes the shiro-maku, a white kimono worn during the ceremony, and the uchikake, an elaborately coloured and embroidered brocade coat worn over the shiro-maku during the reception.

First, I had to don a light, simple robe that tied around the waist. Then I was sat down at a small makeup table and my hair was skinned back into a net so that a wig could later be fitted over it. Then my face, neck, upper back and hands were painted a sort of pale peach. After that came the under kimono, or hiyoku.

At this point, I did nothing but stand with my arms out to the side. The hiyoku was heavy enough in itself, with a stiff collar and long sleeves. The lady tied it around my waist then started to add all sorts of padding to my chest, waist and back. To keep this padding in place, she draped a sort of bib around my chest and back which velcroed to security. Once this was done, the real kimono was put on me, this one even heavier than the hiyoku. More tying and padding followed, then a cover, meant to be the obi (the main sash tied around the waist) was tied around the waist and gave one the charming feeling of being suffocated. This must be what corsets felt like. The knot of the obi was placed on my back and it was heavy. I can't imagine what it would've felt like to have the full length of a real obi tied around my waist and knotted at my back.

I was asked to sit again, but had to wait for someone to carry my dress while I waddled over to the stool. The wardrobe lady untied two more cases which opened to show elaborate wigs in traditional Japanese hairstyle, known was bunkin takashimada. I can only explain it as consisting of lots of puffs and wax. The first wig was too small and caused some whimpering and twitching on my part. The second was a little too big but no one could tell. Once secured, hair ornaments were slipped in it looked great. Or as great as it could on my rather round face. However I now know why Japanese ladies might've looked demurely at the ground while they walked. It wasn't subservience, no, it was that they had a veritable anvil to balance on their heads and the only way to feel comfortable was to look at the ground.

I was helped up and waited for the lady to gather my skirts before I could walk to the photo room. There, to my delight and dismay (its heavy and hot!), the beautiful uchikake, was put over my 2 layers of robes. More hair ornaments followed. I looked like someone else entirely. In full bridal costume I couldn't draw a deep breath, and my neck and back were starting to ache. How brides could/can walk around all day in this garb is beyond me. I myself couldn't walk without help (meaning someone picking up my skirt) and even then the kimono restricted the movement of my legs so that I walked like a toddler. But it was good fun to be dressed and made up. Kind of makes you feel like a princess. Kind of also makes you feel sorry for said princesses.

I'd estimate that I took about an hour to get ready. Will took about 10 minutes. I also discovered that wedding photos actually mean photos of the bride. The man is shifted in occasionally but just as soon shooed away so that more solitary photos of a fabulously adorned woman can be snapped. Will referred to himself as a kind of "garnish" to my photographs. He'd have to wait while I was posed then two women would work to place my skirts, sleeves, head and hands just so. When this was done, he could step in.

The men dress in a kind of "tuxedo" kimono called haori-hakama. This consists of blue and white striped pants and then a black, gold-dotted formal long robe on top (not huge polka dots, small evenly-spaced dots). A white, feathery ball is hung between the lapels of the robe, the meaning of which eludes me. Unfortunately, I only have a picture of me available which accompanies this post.

I thoroughly enjoyed the experience but am glad I only have to do it once! Cheers all.

p.s. For some photos that white cloth you see was draped over my hair. It's called the tsuno kakushi. It was meant to symbolize "obedience" during the wedding ceremony. Heh heh, right.

And I'm off...for vacation

Hey all, I'm off to the "Land of the Morning Calm" (Korea) and the "Land Down Under" for the next 2 weeks.

I will post when I return. Hopefully with pictures. Cheers all.

Argh

If anyone knows how to align blog posts properly please let me know. I don't know why that last post keeps coming out all wonky.

I've lived in Japan now for almost 9 months. And what have I gained during this time? Here is my top 10. (note: the following list is very trite)

1. I finally, after months of hoping I'd never have to touch one again, learned to drive a stick shift. Although most people rave over and profess great love for a manual car, I see it as a lot of unecessary extra work. I am a lazy being.

2. I learned to say "I can't speak Japanese" in Japanese. Watashi wa nihongo de hanashimasen. Very useful, particularly when you look no different than
the natives.

3. I also learned to say "I'm Canadian" (Watashi wa Ca-na-da jin desu) and a
very sloppy way of explaining my parents are Korean. I used this phrase to
prevent the locals from thinking I am mentally challenged.

4. I perfected the art of looking confused and bewildered whenever anyone attempted to speak to me in Japanese. To accomplish this, simply widen your eyes and then furrow your brow. Follow this by shaking your head while apologizing (either in Japanese or your native tongue). I began inadvertently studying this craft in China and have worked extensively at improving it during my Asian travels.

5. I learned to read Hiragana and Katakana. I would describe Hiragana as the curvaceous alphabet. Katakana is it's rather angular sister. As with many siblings, while there are differences, you can tell they're related.

6. I developed an unhealthy negative attitude towards Kanji, a distant relative to both Hiragana and Katakana. Kanji is a tease, sometimes enticingly simple and yet disturbingly complex.

7. I've become increasingly fond of Japanese fashion. I find myself wanting to wear multiple layers, perforated pastel-coloured mules, insanely uncomfortable stiletto heels, brightly coloured striped knee-socks, long shirts that could double as dresses, and arm warmers. I mean c'mon, arm warmers?? I bought three pairs!

8. I discovered I don't like udon. This is a great tragedy since udon shops are a dime a dozen here and the cheapest meal to be had. I've tried on numerous occasions to reconcile myself to the thick-noodle-in-fish-broth mixture but to no avail. I just don't enjoy.

9. I can now waste countless minutes rifling through the menus on my cell phone. Exactly what new thing I think I'm going to discover after 6 months is
beyond me but I still do it.

10. That better sushi is to be had in Vancouver. Admittedly I haven't tasted too much sushi here, being rather pricey, but what I've had wasn't anything to write home about. I actually look forward to eating at Sushi Boat in Calgary again. It's too fun to watch the endless line of boats float by, holding various pieces of sushi.

Cram Schools and Kaiyo Academy

The past 3 years of my life have been split living between Canada, China, Korea and Japan. In China, I taught at a university. In Korea and Japan I taught at a hagwon and juku respectively. Both are the country's names for "cram school".

Today I read an article about a new elite private school, for junior high/high school students, opening in Japan. It is meant for the cultivation of future leaders. The school, Kaiyo Academy, is apparently fashioned after Britain's Eton, but the strictly regimented schedule makes one wonder what the students are going to gain, aside from a penchant for punctuality. Classes are naturally scheduled, but so are free time, reading materials, phone calls and the like. Video games, comic books and bicycles are prohibited. I was confused as to exactly why bicycles weren't allowed but I'm not a school official. Perhaps riding a bike fosters bad behaviour. Kaiyo Academy is meant as an expensive alternative to both public and cram schools. Now the two are blended nicely together for the ultimate in time-crunching, educational achievement. The cost to send a child there is 3 million yen per year. That's around 30,000 CDN.

For those of you unfamiliar with the cram school system, it is an after school school. Kind of like tutoring centers in Canada except they can be much more rigid. In Korea I taught at an English hagwon, that specialized in students that had previously lived in an English speaking country for a minimum of one year. So, I was spoiled as an English teacher since almost all my students could easily converse with me and could read and write English to boot. My English juku in Japan didn't boast the same standards but had the same philosophy. Which was: Teach the kids as much English as possible in the time allowed.

Public schools, in both Korea and Japan, end around 3pm, sometimes earlier for the lower grades. Afterwards, it is common for many children to be bundled off, either by bus, car or bicycle to a cram school. Be it for English, math, social studies or the like. It's also common for students to stay at one or other cram school virtually ALL evening. Many of my students were frequently late to class because they had to come running for another school. Often they also looked bone-tired but would try to stay awake and alert for class.

The reason for cram schools is the overwhelming pressure and competition that surrounds getting into a good university. All families want to be able to brag that their child attends or attended (either tense is fine) the greatest university in the country. The top universities in Korea and Japan respectively, are Seoul and Tokyo. For my father's generation, if you went to Seoul University you were made for life. I assume the situation would've been similar for Tokyo. Entrance examinations for universities are cut-throat operations. If you failed, you didn't get in and had to wait another year before trying again. Then there was the whole dishonoring and shaming your family thing. Failure is not acceptable in any form. Failing means you don't respect all your family has done for you nor do you respect yourself. You didn't try hard enough. Suicide rates among students usually rise during entrance examination season. Thus, in order to lower the chance of failure, students are sent to cram schools.

I'm just glad that I was brought up in a country where the education system is a little more lax. I can't imagine spending every waking moment of my teenage years studying.

Tokyo again

Now that I've got my bearings and have organized most of what needs to be organized (flight home, soon-to-be-trip, additional inconsequential details) I can now write about what else I saw in Tokyo.

Our first day in, with the extra early arrival of 6:30am, due to the overnight bus schedule, we wandered around, bleary eyed, sleepy, and wondering what the hell to do with ourselves for the next 10 hours or so (as this is when we could check into our hotel). Nothing was open, hardly any shops, restaurants or museums. The subway, if nothing else, was up and running so we hopped on and then hopped off at Ueno Station. This lead to Ueno Park.

At Ueno Park, the sakura trees or cherry blossoms, were in full bloom. They were beautiful to look at but the scenic view was ruined by the huge amounts of blue tarp underneath. The first weekend in April gave way to tons of hanami, or cherry blossom viewing parties. This means groups of people stake out spots underneath the trees, usually with tarp or newspaper, and then proceed to drink and eat, ALL day long. A few hardy souls were already camped out before 7am. They'd probably been there all night to save their coveted places. That early in the morning, there were only handfuls of people there. However, later on, after we'd eaten breakfast and taken a tour of Tokyo National Museum, the crowds were horribly oppressive. I've never seen so many people literally pouring out of a station and into a park before. Even though I was still outdoors the amount of people began to feel suffocating. I wanted to run and hide. So, we left.

Around 3 in the afternoon I began to grow weary of the constant crowds and of being on my feet. We decided it was close enough to the time of check-in so we ventured back to the hotel. We were 20 minutes early and asked to wait until it was exactly 4pm. If there's one thing I've discovered about Japan it's that they are extremely punctual. We checked in and I fell asleep for a good hour and a half.

Once up again we headed off to Shinjuku, the young party area of Tokyo. With all the lights and huge monitors, it looks similar to Broadway in New York. After wandering around the decent part of town, we started looking for Kabuki-cho, or the red-light district. Why is it that the seamy, seedy parts of town are always so much more interesting to go to?

Kabuki-cho is made up of rows upon rows of hostess clubs/bars. Meaning a place where only Japanese men can go to "relax". Walking around you could sometimes see some scantily clad women bidding a man farewell in front of the club. There were a fair number of host clubs as well. Though the men advertised on the billboards were rather effeminate in looks. What is with the hair here? It looks like they shocked themselves with electricity and then patted it down before leaving the house. Oddly, we also found a good number of Korean restaurants in Kabuki-cho. Meaning that Koreans find a good living in the red-light district perhaps?

The first day Will followed me to Harajuku and then I duly followed him to Akihabara, the electronics district of Tokyo. Here there are a great number of buildings whose entire floors are devoted to cameras, computers, cell phones, walkmans, mp3 players, video games and etc. Will was in heaven but I could feel my eyes glazing over within 10 minutes of a video game hunt. On a later day we returned to Akihabara, but this time to visit a Maid Cafe. What is this you ask? It's odd but this is a cafe where girls dress up like maids. Sometimes with bunny or cat ears on their heads. There is a sitting fee and the prices for drinks and food are about what you'd expect at a bar. You can choose to play a game with a maid for 3min for the bargain price of 500yen (5 dollars). Once an hour the lights would dim and the maids would engage the audience to play a variation of "rock paper scissors". The winner won some gold memento coins of the cafe. I believe they sing on occasion as well. Some cafe's cater more to manga readers and the girls will dress up like some famous manga characters. The one we were at seemed to be a standard Maid Cafe.

The last thing I'll write about is the Meguro Parasite Museum. I had heard about this from a friend and it came so highly recommended I couldn't pass up a chance to see it. I don't think I've ever seen so much information about parasites in one place before. The museum consisted of two floors in a modest looking building. Both floors held various jars of parasites preserved in solution. The second floor was more traumatic with the pictures of what certain parasites could do to the human body. There was also an 8.8m tapeworm, taken from a human male, incased in glass. Next to it was a length of rope, cut to 8.8m that you could unravel to see in all its lengthy glory. Also on display was a dolphin heart ridden with pinworms. It was truly disgusting. The gift shop on the 2nd floor had an English booklet explaining the displays, which Will and I avidly read to see what we had missed. I started feeling a little queasy as the booklet went into great detail about the effects of parasites. One particular fact that was great to read was people often don't realize they have a tapeworm until they seeing it hanging out after going #2. Both of us left the museum feeling as though we should go straight to the doctor to get checked out.

I had a great time in Tokyo and even relished taking the subway/trains. I guess it was just the accessibility that I missed. You can jump onto the train and go somewhere interesting. This isn't as easily done in the inaka unless you own a car.

I set my return date!

To all the Calgarians out there. I finally booked my flight home. I'm back on May 21st! I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone!

Tokyo - Starring Harajuku

Last Friday found Will and myself waiting at for an overnight bus by Tokushima Station. I had just finished my last day of work and was pretty damn excited about going somewhere and relaxing. It duly arrived and we boarded. I was interested to see that there were bottles of green tea supplied as well as pillows and blankets. Once the bus was really on its way, we were required to pull the curtains closed and all the lights were turned off. This,coupled with the rather intense heat, created something of a feeling of claustrophobia but otherwise, all was good.

On Sunday, we hopped onto the infallible JR Yamanote line (it goes to all major Tokyo hotspots) and headed to Harajuku where we had read girls of questionable fashion tastes congregated. They are known as the Coz-play-zoku (Costume play gang). After walking through a long street lined with shops and boutiques (I starry-eyed, Will blank-eyed). We came across jingu-bashi and one of strangest sights I have ever seen in my life. All long the bridge sat/stood groups of girls garbed in a bizarre variety of clothing. Maid outfits, huge platform knee-high boots, goth-like makeup, the works. As I walked around I saw a number of tourists, all looking exactly as I felt. Astonished and bewildered with cameras in hand. I must've stayed on the bashi (bridge) for a good half hour just staring, open-mouthed like a yokel.

The next day I returned to Harajuku (while Will shopped in Akihabara the electronics district), not to stare but to shop. And what did I end up buying? Socks, and lots of them. Striped, glittery, and plain, knee-high socks. I also bought arm-warmers, skirts and extremely long pearl beads. When am I ever going to wear all these things? No bloody clue but it sure was fun buying it all! I also snacked on crepes. There must've been at least 10 crepe vendors on the one street alone.

I hope to write about other spots we saw in Tokyo but knowing me I might not get around to it. Hope you're all enjoying yourselves.

Adventures in Sumo

I found out, a little late, on the local chat forum here that the annual trek to Osaka would be happening in order to catch a Sumo tournament. A group of us decided to drive the distance in order to watch portly men tussle with one another while wearing a uniform that closely resembled a thong. But more about that later.

We woke up at the decent hour of 3am and were off by 3:30. Surprisingly, none of us fell asleep during the 3 hour drive to Osaka. After passing by the actual building where the tickets were being sold and then getting lost for 40 minutes, we eventually made our way back to where we had already been and got our free-seating tickets.

A group of us then ventured to the fabled "Spa World". Basically a fancy, multiple pool onsen which features massages and a waterpark on the very top floor. Onsen floors are divided according to sex. Men on one and women on the other. On our floor they had a nifty "relaxation room" where you could don an alluring pink shift, wrap a bright orange towel around your wet hair and lie down on a reclining chair. Then, because you're so relaxed from the entire hot onsen pool experience, you inevitably fall asleep. One of the stranger experiences of this onsen is sitting with your friends around a table in a cafe, drinking water and chatting. Strange because the group of you are in nothing but your birthday suits, as are the other customers in the room.

Back to sumo. We meandered back, skin suitably reddened from the onsen, took our seats, and hunkered down to watch some Japanese wrestling. Sumo wrestlers go through a series of ceremonial motions that last longer than the actual bout. It includes the famous(?) lifting/stretching of the legs and sprinkling salt in the ring to purify it. The two opponents then face each other, posed to fight, then back off. This happens about three times before they actually fight. Apparently during these numerous face-offs, one opponent will occasionally "psych-out" the other. You can tell this has happened when the audience cheers and claps. I personally had absolutely no idea when the psych-outs happened or who was the psycher and who was the psychee. It was explained to me that only the Japanese can tell.

One of the more interesting displays during the afternoon was watching the yokozuna, or top-ranked wrestler, perform a traditional ceremonial dance/series of movements. (It looked like a dance to me) It's as an elaborate a display as any you'll see. In the picture, the middle wrestler is the yokozuna.

We watched until the last match where the yokozuna fought. It was the one all the audience had been waiting for and I would say that it delivered on expectations. Obviously, I had none, being a first time viewer. I would recommend that any visitor to Japan try to catch a match.

Spring

The advent of spring brings all sorts of nice and happy things with it. Flowers, green grass, leaves on trees, frolicking animals... One of the happiest of spring things is POLLEN. Yes, it's that time of year when trees and plants are budding and sending their 'dust' out into the open air. And, consequently, right up my nose. It doesn't matter which country I'm in or what the vegetation, I get hayfever like clockwork.

On Thursday night I realized it must truly be spring because I was having sneezing fits. Meaning I'd sneeze about 5-6 times in succession and then be left with the wild desire to rip off my nose. This charming display continued into the next day by the end of which I sounded as if I'd never learned to pronounce words properly. Not that anyone could really understand since I'd interrupt myself in order to make room for a sneezing fit.

I remembered to bring some allergy medication with me but the directions warn of taking more than one pill a day. So, once I've taken that one, and experienced the rather brief relief of it, I stare sullenly at the box pretty much waiting until I can take the next one. I also stare sullenly at people who don't suffer from this affliction. Namely my fiance. In addition to my angry looks, he's also privy to my constant carping and complaining about how bad I feel (and this on top of constant oh-so-seductive nose-blowing and coughing). He has a rocking good time.

And that's the end. Cheers all.

Jam and cars

It's the return of the sporadic blogger! What will she do this time?

This morning, as I was getting breakfast together for myself, I took out the jam from the fridge. Upon opening said jar I noticed a slight, shall we say, discoloration on the top of it. There were 2 spots of discoloration to be precise. The jam was starting to mold. I've never encountered moldy jam before. And back home we keep the jam in the fridge FOREVER. I don't know if the ingredients of jam are different here or if our fridge just plain sucks. Probably the latter. Yuck.

On a completely different note, I thought I'd write about the interior decoration of cars here in Japan. Since I drive so bloody much and could probably now make my way to the city blindfolded, I look at the cars around me while enroute. The interior of my car is starkly bare. Particularly since the ceiling was stripped of its lining and now only has bits of gluey sponge dotting it. However other cars see no need to always be in their birthday suits. Some cars are lined with Pooh Bears, and I mean LINED. They clamour on the dashboard, they crowd the back windows, and sometimes they wave cheerfully from the seatbelts. Other cars have Hello Kitty similarly vying for space. And still others have, well, it looks like they killed a goat and laid its fur across the dashboard.

For cars with a manual transmission, the stick has sometimes been altered. They take the conventional black knob with the numbers off and replace it with this funky, psychedelic, iridescently clear plastic...shaft. It's really quite attractive and makes me wish I had one for my car. While some drivers have to reach down for the gear shift, other drivers have solved that annoying need by putting so many attachments onto the stick that the thing now is level with their shoulders. I don't know if that might make the ride a little more dangerous or not.

I will write again whenever I see something of interest.

Eyo Hadaka Matsuri - Naked Man Festival

Over the past weekend, I had the pleasure to take in a matsuri (festival) known as Eyo Hadaka or Naked Man. This event took place in Okayama with the festivities beginning around 7:30pm. First, a little background.

The Eyo Hadaka began in the 1500s when priests gave out amulets to coincide with the lunar new year. The amulets became popular and were coveted for their good fortune. In order to better distribute the amulets the priests moved to the balcony where they could toss the sought-after item to the crowd below. The amulet switched to a pair of wooden sticks called shingi. And then, it evolved into what I saw last night, which I will now try to describe.

I inadverdently volunteered Will to run in this festival. I had little to no idea of what it entailed except that he would be nearly naked and running around in cold weather with a bunch of other near-naked men. I duly booked a hotel room and then we organized ourselves to get to Okayama (a 2 and a half hour drive away). We arrived with little incident and were loaded onto spectator and runner buses.

Once in the vicinity of the temple the runners were herded off to change into their fundoshi (a cloth covering the groin area, similar to what you see Sumo wrestlers wear) and tabi (ankle socks with a defined toe). This was all the clothing the participating men were permitted to wear during the festivities. Yesterday evening the temperature hovered somewhere near 0 degrees celsius. Once properly garbed, the men sort of half-jogged down a small street leading to the temple gates continually chanting: "Wasshoi! Wasshoi!" which I was told meant "I'm strong/healthy/happy."

Once through the gates, the men were required to run around the temple 3 times. Included in this circuit was a refreshing run through an icy cold fountain. They came out soaking wet and then jogged up the steps of the main pavilion where they stood chanting for a little while before jogging back down the steps to repeat the torture. Around 11:30pm the men started jockeying for position in the main pavilion. Bascially the men were smushed together so that they hardly had enough room to breathe comfortably. A lot of pushing seemed to be involved and, periodically, an avalanche of men would tumble down the stairs. From my vantage point what I saw was a rather large grouping of back, behinds and legs all scrambling and moving, either to get closer to where the shingi would be dropped or merely in a vain attempt to keep warm. From the center of this sardine-like gathering emitted a cloud of steam, created solely by the heat of the mens' bodies.

Promptly at midnight the lights were turned off and the shingi dropped. The lights came back on and the spectators witness an undignified struggle to grab hold of the shingi. I have no idea who managed to get them and have no idea how anyone could tell what happened in the melee. In about 10-15 min it was all over. The Eyo Hadaka was finished until next year.

Once I met back up with Will, he told me it was a great cultural experience but one he likely wouldn't repeat. I suppose it would be hard to try and recreate the first time of running around in a g-string, willingly dunking yourself in freezing water, getting crushed with throngs of other naked men, and frantically chasing two sticks.

Though I could no longer feel my feet by night's end, I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed the festival. You couldn't pull off something like this back in North America let me tell you. Cheers all.

Twins

I had the pleasure of teaching 2 new additions to a class of mine. And I had the worst time getting their names straight. Why? They looked exactly alike. I've never actually met a pair of identical twins before and the experience, while novel, was somewhat frustrating.

The two had the same hairstyle, nearly the same expression and, unfortunately, the almost the same clothing. The one difference was, one wore a black shirt underneath his vest and one wore a brown one. Nevertheless, I still kept screwing up their names. They had to keep correcting me though I think it started to amuse them that I was having such trouble trying to identify them from each other. By the end of class I'd figured identical twins should have identical names if for no other reason than to make my life easier.

I just fear that they'll be wearing exactly the same clothing for the next class.

Squatters

Not the most refined of topics but I thought I'd take the time to write about a style of toilet that has haunted my Asian travels. I call them squatters, I have no idea what the proper terminology would be for them. Any of you that have done some traveling will know what I'm talking about.

This style of toilet is situated in the ground. Really, it's quite a space saver. No need for all that extra porcelain to fashion out a seat. Another benefit is that it works out your legs. In order to use a squatter one needs to position their feet on either side of the toilet and then, well, squat. Make sure you're in a relatively comfortable position or you'll have a hell of a time getting back on your feet. People who have a poor sense of balance won't enjoy the experience.

The first time I was lucky enough to encounter a squatter was in Korea. We were at a highway rest stop and these were the only option. For someone who had only ever vaguely heard of the existence of these toilets, I viewed them with some apprehension. Which way to face? Where's the flush handle? (in one country I spent a good 5 minutes searching for a way to flush before finally realizing it didn't come with that option) For the uninitiated, you face the hood. The majority are perfectly clean and sanitary. I've gotten used to them but really, I merely tolerate their existence.

Someone once told me she thinks the best way to judge a country's modernity factor is by looking at the state and condition of the toilets. And you know what? You kind of can. Though I can't quite imagine seeing a headline reading: "2006 World Toilet Survey announces Switzerland is the best place to live, 4th year running."

Hey! This was my 50th post!

Construction

One of the more puzzling things I've seen since coming to Japan is the seemingly endless construction work. On one of the local roads within my town the construction has been going on since November of last year and they're STILL at it! All this road work seems to have led nowhere. The street is in even worse condition than when they started what with the bumps and potholes that have magically appeared within it.On the 192, the road most used to get to Tokushima City from our end of Shikoku, construction decoratively dots the road, creating the need to detour into the oncoming lane. The 192 consists of a whopping 2 lanes so detours mean long waits while one lane is allowed to proceed. Depending on the time of day that you're traveling, the waits can be more frequent.  The strange thing about all this is that they seem to be tearing and ripping apart perfectly fine roads, in order to repave and repaint the roads to a beautiful hue.  They are still reconstructing a 1km stretch of road that was just fine as it was but now the road is made up of strips of faded gray asphalt to startlingly new, black asphalt.

Another thing about construction is that it seems to be a “make-work” program for the Japanese.  A length of 300-500m features bright flashy lights, akin to what you would see in Las Vegas as well as at least 7 workers.  3 of these workers carry either white and red flags or a flashing red baton.  Their job is primarily to guide traffic on either side of the yellow line.  This is fine when the stretch of road is long but when it isn’t it hardly seems necessary to have that many people frantically waving white flags to tell you, yes, you can drive through.  

People are also employed in large parking lots to guide traffic out.  This seems like a nice gesture but for this Canadian who has managed to get out of sizable parking lots all on her lonesome, the attention is more annoying.  You aren’t allowed to leave until these baton-holding officials give you the go ahead.  They seem to think you need an awful lot of room to make a simple turn.  I was made to wait and wait while several good chances went by.  In the end I was ready to run over these men, while screaming with impatience.

It makes you wonder, isn’t there somewhere else all this funding for construction could be spent?  Rather than needlessly repaving roads and having 3 people tell you you’re allowed to drive?    Maybe it’s just me.

Kyoto

Hi all, I'm on an unexpected break at work. A student canceled and now I have an extra hour and a half to fiddle around with. So, I'll try and finish my blogs about the vacation. On to Kyoto...

Before coming to Japan, I really wanted to see Kyoto. Why? Well, a kind of stupid reason but I had read "Memoirs of a Geisha" and then later, "Geisha of Gion" (do you see a trend here?) and I wanted to see where all these things took place. That and Kyoto is reputed to be a place of historical and natural beauty so there you go.

The drive from Himeji to Kyoto took about half a day. Kyoto roads weren't quite as congested as I'd thought they'd be. It took some maneuvering on small alley roads but we eventually found the ryokan where we'd made a reservation to stay. A ryokan is a Japanese style inn. I found it to be like a Japanese style hostel with more room space and amenities. The washrooms are shared as is the shower/bath. The bath is the fun part. They prepare it for you and call when it's ready. Always soap and rinse yourself off thoroughly before stepping into a Japanese bath. It's not meant for scrubbing. But I'm getting off topic.

The lady was very welcoming and showed us to our room then served us tea and a snack afterwards. After drinking, eating and examining the bath robes that were laid on the futons for our use, we headed out to explore Kyoto at night. Basically we had dinner and tooled around this enormous shopping area. My city-starved self was overwhelmed at all the consumer goods. I wanted to buy everything.

Highlights of Kyoto for me included seeing Gion (the setting of the aforementioned books) and the Golden Pavilion. Gion is part modern night-life and part traditional tea-house. The north side of Gion sports expensive coffee shops, neon lights promoting bars and a lot of well dressed people milling around. The south side is much darker though not creepily so. The streets where the more traditional ochaya (teahouses) are are much less busy than modern Gion. Apparently, you can't even get into a teahouse unless invited by an already established customer. A night in a teahouse includes entertainment by geisha or geikos and usually a very expensive sumptuous meal. From what I've read these parties can cost well in excess of 2000 dollars. A bit too pricey for fun in my opinion. Give me ramen and an 18 dollar movie and I'm happy.

I spotted who I thought was a geisha while roaming around the teahouses. Her hair was done up in a traditonal style and she wore a kimono under her long winter cloak. What did I do after spotting said geisha? The intelligent foreigner thing to do of course, I stalked her, dragging my companions along with me. We could only follow so far as she ducked into a teahouse where we were unable to go. That was my excitement in Gion.

The following day, we took our little Minica and went to Kinkakuji which literally translates to "Golden Temple" but is better known to English speakers as the Golden Pavilion. The entry fee was 400 yen and worth every penny in my opinion. The temple is situated on a very peaceful zen-like pond with very lush trees surrounding it. The temple itself is...GOLD. Not entirely gold but a good portion of it is modeled in gold. After taking various shots of the temple you could walk on the path up to a small but pretty waterfall. Further still you could fall prey to the souvenir stands selling all sorts of knick-knacks. This I did quite gleefully, having been rather prudent with my cash up till then.

The remainder of the trip involved a lot of driving (back to Shikoku) and falling asleep only to be startled into wakefulness by Will's voice saying: "Uh, I need to know where I'm going now." (I was the navigator, being the passenger) We celebrated the New Year quietly at home which was nice since we hadn't been able to be together the year before.

Talk to you all soon, cheers.

Kure, Hiroshima and Himeji

Sorry 'bout the lack of updates folks (for those of you who are following this blog). I started one about the winter vacation, copied the text then deleted it only to find I couldn't seem to paste what I'd copied. Argh! So I'm starting from scratch again.

My winter holiday began on Dec.23, or the Emperor's Birthday which a national holiday here. On Christmas Eve Will and I set out on the road in our little, yet trusty kei car to Kure (a 30 min train ride from Hiroshima). No, I didn't choose Kure for the hell of it, I have friends who live there. What would've been a 3 hour drive back in Canada took almost 6 here. For one thing, the car can't go over 80km/h comfortably for more than 10 minutes and for another traffic is slllooooww. At one point we gave up the non-toll, but non-moving, highway in favor of the zippiness of the rather pricey expressway.

Once in Kure, we met up with my friends, ate dinner, exchanged presents, slept and woke up bright and early to meet another friend in Hiroshima. Once altogether, we had a healthy McDonald's breakfast then set off for Peace Memorial Park, the site of the A-bomb dome. This structure survived the point-blank blast though a lot of the walls were seared off. It was strange to be looking at a building destroyed the way it was. Basically parts of it just melted away.

The A-bomb dome is located in Peace Memorial Park which also houses the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. This museum details the creation of Hiroshima as a city as well as the creation of "Little Boy" better known as the atomic bomb. Hiroshima was one of four possible target sites, all candidates being more or less intact unlike other air-raid ravaged cities. Why choose a city that's intact? To observe the effects of course. Kind of like a deadly, huge-scale science experiment. Other sections of the museum showed pictures of the after-effects on humans and objects. A particularly affecting picture shows a watch, frozen at 8:15, the time the atomic bomb detonated above Hiroshima. I won't go into details about the pictures of human suffering. All I can say is there was worse shown in the War Crimes Museum in Ho Chi Minh.

The rest of Hiroshima was walking and taking in a few gardens and one rather mundane castle. (I think I've seen too many Asian castles). The next day we spent in Kure relaxing before taking off for Himeji, famous for its enormous castle, which even this jaded viewer enjoyed.

Himeji Castle is big, even as castles go. One of our first stops was Princess Sen's Quarters. This Princess was first married at 7 to a guy who off and committed suicide. She then met and married the love of her life, Honda Tadatoki and lived in Himeji Castle.

Although the rooms were large and the Princess pretty much had use of the entire building, I couldn't help thinking that, with the bars on the windows and soldiers keeping watch at intermittent posts, it would've been more like living in a glorified prison. The main tower was interesting. Six stories tall and each successive story is smaller than the one beneath it. The bottom floor's walls contained many pegs meant to hold swords and other weapons. The top floor housed a shrine that was moved into the castle after the building took over its former spot.

In order to go into the castle, you had to take off your shoes, put on slippers, then carry your shoes around in a white plastic bag. I think some of the grandeur of the castle was lost on me because I was focusing more on the increasing numbness of my feet. I recommend visiting Himeji in the springtime when the temperature is more agreeable.

Alright, I'm running out of steam. Stay tuned for my take on Kyoto...

Heaters

It's that lovely time of year when all people on the island of Shikoku (and the rest of Japan) freeze their behinds off. Why? Well, the outside isn't actually super cold but the houses and their lack of insulation make it feel like the arctic. You can actually see your breath when inside. Isn't there something inherently wrong with that?

So, to battle the frigidness, we have heaters. They come in all shapes and sizes. The first is the air conditioner/heater which is usually perched above the doorway. It was great as an air conditioner but as a heater you have to sit in a certain area of the room to get any benefit from it. Then there is what I call a heat lamp. It looks like a fan but doesn't blow and gets hot. Good for short distances but useless for a big room. Then there is also the "kotatsu" which is a table that is heated underneath. You throw a blanket under the lid, stick your legs under and enjoy the ensuing warmth.

I recently found out that the toilet in my house has a heated seat. And while it sounds weird, it's great! The bathroom is as cold as the rest of the house and it's not fun to have to answer nature's call in the middle of a very cold night.

This brings me to the kerosene powered heater. This bad boy has a tank which can be filled with kerosene that can be bought from your local gas station. It's warm but it can smell. There is one in my workplace which gives me a headache if I have it on for more than an hour. Possibly fainting or poisoning myself with toxic fumes is not my idea of an ending so I regulate it's usage by obsessively opening windows and gulping in fresh air or turning it off completely. Unfortunately this polluting machine is the only heater that actually warms up a room.

That said and done, Shikoku hasn't yet reached it's coldest temperatures of the year. So an icicle will write to you in those months.