HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(it's hard to find real, orange pumpkins here...but, we managed)

T-Shirt Award of the Day

"FUCK House Work"...worn by a three year old at Nursery school today.

The Day's High/Low/fluorescent-lights

***Today I helped out in the Chugakkou (Junior High School) music class. I was asked to help read and pronounce the lyrics to "Eidel Weiss" and "Doe a Deer, a Female Deer." Then the students began picking out songs to sing for a group project. Among the choices were Hey Jude (pronounced for the most part as Hey Judo), We are the World and The Carpenters' On Top of the World, which by the way turns out to be a karaoke favorite here ( don't fret if you don't know it, neither did I). Three 2nd year girls requested singing Mariah Carrey's Christmas Song, but due to lack of lyric and music sheets, it is probable that they will sing Titanic's "My Heart Will Go On," or ABBA's "Dancing Queen."

***The confusion and worry regarding my fellow Hidakagawa-cho ALT, Ben, and my decision to not use the uncovered, insanely bright fluorescent lights that beat down on everyone else working in our Town Hall office has subsided. Due to restructuring, Ben and I were moved to our own office across the hall, where a huge window provides plenty of natural sunlight and a refuge from the headache inducing lights. But, the decision was not without multiple comments/concerns daily, questioning our well-being in the "dark". We and our co-worker have apparently agreed to be puzzled about one another and peace and calm has returned to the third floor.

***This morning I walked into the office and found a Sweet Potato on my desk. I am nearly positive that this is a good sign.

***Visa applications are currently being processed for an upcoming trip to India in December.

***This one does not qualify for today, but on Sunday I sacrificed my first piece of clothing to my bike. A black v-neck sweater, cherished for its versatility is now one-sleeved and the lesson not to wear items around the waist while biking, has been learned.

Matsuri Nation

As I said before, October is teeming with festivals due to it being harvest season. This past weekend my friend Belinda and I ventured to the Wadai Matsuri, or Laughing Festival, in Kawabe, one of the towns that I teach in, escorted by Chihara Sensei, one of Belinda’s JTE’s (Japanese Teachers of English, the teachers that we work with in the Junior High Schools). Being that Kawabe is part of Hidakagawa-cho (the town where I work) I ran in to a lot of my students, which made this festival a bit more fun than others. As is typical however, most students simply stare in amazement at first sight of you, amazed that you exist outside of the classroom. A hearty, loud “hello” and “how are you?” usually snaps them out of their shock, though anything more than a “hello” is rare…for the girls. When not alone though, sighting by a student often draws the “Ahhhhhhh, Lauren Sensei” (whisper, whisper, whisper), “Lauren Sensei.” Like a new celebrity, I still enjoy it and soak it in.

It is said that many of the matsuri’s around this time are very similar to one another, as in you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. But, the special title of this particular festival drew us in. Turns out, the laughing aspect of the celebration is not huge, but we had a great time nonetheless.

Arrival time was 10am and we got there just in time to walk around a bit, see some of the lion dances and witness the participants gathered in nearby garages drinking in preparation for carrying heavy objects. The lion dance in this festival involves a bad lion, one which is bad luck for crops, fighting an Oni (ogre essentially, and also the name of whoever is “it” during a game of tag, a schoolyard favorite here as well). The dance culminates in the lion being stabbed with a sword by the Oni.

Being that the festival involved many different town in the area (many of which have just recently merged to form one big town…when I got my letter of assignment for example, it stated that Hidakagawa town had “just started”. Hmmmm, part of something new) each smaller town was designated with colored headbands. When the procession towards the Shrine began, the elders with baskets filled with items from this year's harvest led the way, followed by a smaller (but heavier) portable shrine, carried by some of the higher ups of the area. One of Belinda’s Kocho Sensei’s (vice principle, translates as Head Teacher) was helping to carry this particular one and was well on his way to trashed at this point.

Now this procession, and it is the same in every festival of this type that I have seen and heard of, is not one of your 5th avenue Thanksgiving Day Parade types. The Japanese have taken it to a whole new level and I think that we Americans might do some good to pay attention, because their way is a whole lot more fun and far less froofy. No blow up Snoopy’s or carnation-covered, snail-paced boats on wheels here. This event is run on good, old-fashioned man-power. And staggering man-power at that. And with two steps forward, two steps back, a shuffle to the side and a near capsize, you can imagine how long it takes to get everyone and their baggage about a half kilometer down the road. Just when you think that progress is being made, men holding the weight in the front may decide that they want to walk backwards, and so it goes. It is very much a struggle between the men holding the shrine, so at times it is a bit of a civil war. In addition, with all the testosterone and sake flowing, there is the occasional fist fight. Not to worry though, we were told that it is normal and there are designated people to break these little tiffs up.

Belinda and I, being the only gaijin there and knowing some of the people involved in the festivities, were given temporary Wasa Town honors in the form of pink headbands and a short opportunity to carry the Yotsu Daiko (the biggest shrine, which holds four boys playing a taiko drum, refer to Gobo Matsuri posting). This made her JTE nervous however, so the attmept to take on some of the shrine's weight did not last long. But we did continue for a long while to follow the Wasa "float" whilst being serenaded with drunk old men's talk of tennis balls, condoms and "puri puri" ( apparently a nicely rounded behind)...but these are just estimates as Chihara Sensei stopped translating at this point. Charming.

We stayed at the festival for about two and a half hours and still the procession had barely begun to arrive at the shrine. I now understand why these things last all day.

And before I forget, there is a laughing aspect, though not as pronounced as I expected. The grand marshall is a clown-like character who laughs (or begins the laughing, many of the older men laugh as well...a very accentuated, hearty roar of a laugh) and throws candy.



Some of my Shougakko (Elementary) Badasses (Unlike the Kilt, the plaid worn in Japan has no familial significance, but the elastic waist band, makes a fine purse, possibly rivaling the fanny-pack)

the "Lion"

Showdown


the boys of the Yotsu Daiko being carried to the shrine (they are not allowed to touch the ground)

the tipping point

stackin 'em in, an efficient use of space

It's a good way to save some money. A bit small,yes, but not nearly as claustrophobic and creepy as I thought. Pretty clean, complete with television and radio, not to mention the available lockers, bathroom and shower. Only 500 yen extra for every hour slept in and check in time is pretty much whenever. Doubt they would fly in the states, but the capsule hotel is well worth a try. Especially after a night of clubbing.
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Taking hostels to a whole new level...not sure whether that "taking" is up or down. You decide.

Gobo Matsuri

October is a huge month in Japan for the matsuri, or festival, due to the fact that it is harvest time. Nearly every town across the land has their own festival and then there are the additional festivals which celebrate some more specific event or thing. Matsuri's on the calendar in Wakayama for October include the Ahi and Saba (tuna and mackeral) Matsuri, the Laughing Festival and the Crying Baby Sumo Matsuri, among others. This past week was the Gobo Matsuri, celebrating the town and I reckon revolving around the local shrine or temple. It is hard to get a clear answer concerning the actual point and purpose, in the origin sense, of these festivities, for most natives only have a vague idea. Much like holidays in the States, over time the purpose of celebration has been lost or ignored, though the eagerness to gather and perform traditions and drink and be merry has not. Whether this is good or bad can be argued either way, but I think few to none can object to the gathering of people in the street for dancing, chanting, eating and music. In addition, and not to be downplayed, for it comprises the content of the matsuri, is the tradition. The tradition of dressing up in traditional garb, playing the drums, carry large portable shrines and chanting. For the first time at the Gobo Matsuri, I witnessed the debauchery and costume of the local Matsuri. It took place both Tuesday and Wednesday, but due to a downpour on Wednesday, I only attended on the first day.

The street leading up the Gobo train station was blocked off and filled with people, young and old, some dressed in traditional clothing, most not. There were of course food stands and much drinking. Participants in the majority of festivals in Japan are men. Due to tradition and lack of any desire or push to change this fact, this festival was no different. The bulk of the festival's excitement lies in watching large numbers of drunk and staggering men, carry large portable shrines on their shoulders for hours. The largest of these shrines is called the Yotsu Daiko and is large enough to carry four young boys, in full regalia, faces painted, who drum a large taiko drum which sits in the center of them. The boys who are chosen for this duty as I understand rotates every year. The men carrying the shrines are men of the town. I am not sure if there is any further criteria to this position, but it seems that the elders, still fit to carry the shrine to some extent, do the least of the grunt work and have earned the right to join in and take breaks as they please. It is a great honor to carry the shrines and some of the people that I talked to at this and another similar festival had been carrying the Yotsu Daiko for years.

These shrines are carried for hours, swaying side to side, making it down the street in one way or another, but definitely in their own time. On the second day of the festival, the carrying and chanting (did I mention there is chanting as the shrines are carried? The meaning is unknown to most, since it is traditional chanting of an ancient type) drinking and stumbling and drumming all day long. The eventual ending point of the procession, is the local shrine. It was an exciting couple of dry hours that I watched the event, being in my "home" town made it that much better, for the surprised look on people's faces at the sigh of a non-Japanese is that much less, and I managed to run into a few local friends as well. Until the next Matsuri...

I've Been to the Mountain Top...

...and let me tell you, it's harder getting down. That's what I am feeling today as I struggle to straighten my legs to their full extent, or more importantly, walk down stairs. But it's that good kind of pain, the kind you can brag about, the muscle aches that remind you of your accomplishment. Let me explain further:

A few weeks after I arrived in Japan, my friends Corri and Erin mentioned their plans to go mountain hiking in Nagano. Me being the ever so down adventurer (especially when it seems that there is minimal planning on my part. I am a terrible planner) and one who likes to think of themself as an outdoorsie, camper type of person (my mother has since disputed this impression), I immediately expressed my interest with few questions asked. Sure I'll climb a mountain, why not, just point me in the right direction (or rather, lead the way). 2000 meters up, light headed and tired, I was pretty sure that had I known then, what I knew as I grudgingly forced one foot in front of the other, I may not have been so eager to join the trip.

But alas, I surprised myself and my mother even more and can confidently say that I conquered Mt. Yarigatake, Japan's fifth largest mountain. And while it does not reach the heights of Fuji-san, the hike up to Mt. Yari's summit is actually longer, since the long haul begins at the bottom, rather than at the fifth stage, as is the case for Mt. Fuji. In no way am I trying to take away from the Fuji experience, I plan on trekking up to her peak as well, but I feel the need to introduce the setting for this weekends vertical excursion in the best light possible, being that "fifth" does not sound too spectacular, whereas Mt. Yari is most definitely so.

Mt. Yarigataki is located among the Japanese Alps in Nagano prefecture, familiar to you possibly as a fairly recent Winter Olympic site. Nagano is about a seven hour drive from my peninsula prefecture, but being that this weekend was again a three-dayer, we left on Thursday evening after work and took the expensive yet efficient expressways the whole way there. Arriving too late to get a camp site at the base of the range in a town called Hirayu (in Gifu-ken, which is right next to Nagano-ken. Park of Yurigatake is in Nagano and part in Gifu, not sure which is when and which is which, but the peak is in Nagano. I think), we pitched our tent in a parking lot for a short sleep. We awoke in darkness, happy to have not been discovered and chewed out in Japanese for sleeping in a lot, and started to gear up before driving to where we would catch the bus to the starting point. While parked near the bus depot, a wild fox, that had apparently become very accustomed to tourists' handouts, circled our car as we scarfed down some much needed energy food. At first he was cute, as any fox is, until the little pest swooped in and grabbed a bag that I had lying near my backpack. Not containing any food he quickly left it alone after dragging it into the bushes and shaking it around a bit. But some nine hours later, in need of a head lamp to climb to the summit, it dawned on me that the fox had stolen my flashlight. That is a first. I got it back later, post climb.

The bus, packed with well-equipped and well-costumed (as my friend Ben would put it) hikers drove us through the twists and turns leading to the base of Yari, where no private cars are allowed, and dropped us at a lodge where last minute bathroom breaks and walking stick purchases could be made. The three of us were some of the few foreigners about to embark on the journey into the alps, and among the youngest. After stretching and taking some "before" pics, we were on our way. Not everyone setting out when and where we did were climbing Yari. There are many trail options among the Japanese alps, some are day hikes, others take a few days and cover a few peaks and some people that climb Yari do it in two or three days. So, you can imagine the reaction three foreign women got when people asked where we were headed that day. "Oh, very far," said with a worried/wary tone and expression. Annoying yes, but we used the doubts as fuel.

The first four hours of the trip were fairly tame, pretty flat and shaded nicely. In true Japanese style, we were met with the occasional and much appreciated rest-stop complete with vending machine (some had noodles), drinkable water and bathroom (somehow these were spaced out perfectly for my bladder, leave it to the Japanese). It was easy sailing for the most part. We rested occasionally, munching on nuts and trail mix, gulping down the water to stay hydrated and chatting with people we had passed before along the trail and who would probably pass us later. When the trail is narrow, the switching off of leader is constant, which is nice, since it not only allows for some camaraderie among your fellow travelers, but puts at ease those thoughts that you are the only one having a difficult time once things really get going. Over the occasional bridge (aka, well-placed rocks or logs) and through the valley, we pressed on in search of Yari. At this point in the day we were still not positioned to view our end destination.

I suppose this is all sounding like I am leading up to some drastic accident, or some incredible obstacle that I had to overcome to get to the top. A twisted ankle or broken backpack or something. For this I apologize, nothing of the sort happened. But the climb did get damn tougher and at times I was wondering how I had gotten in to this situation; four hours from the beginning (no turning back) and four hours up hill to go. The air getting thinner, breaks became more frequent and man-made rest stops disappeared and were replaced with huge boulders perfect for stretching out on to take a breather, or to do your business behind.

About five or six hours into the climb, we saw her peak...way out in the distance. And it seemed days away. It was about then that I though maybe I would not make it. Or rather, I could not imagine getting there. But looking around and seeing all the hikers that were twice my age inspired me to get into gear and press on. So press on we did, up, up and further up. Four hours of zigzagging over rocks, uphill. One foot, then the other, feeling a little light headed, can't really think about anything but maintaining a pace, because stopping to sit down, though wonderful, makes starting up that much harder. So I trekked on, glancing just enough at the finish line to stay motivated, but not too much to cause self-doubt. And although there is a tempting lodge about an hour down from the one that sits on the peak, there was no point in my mind on getting that far and not going all the way. Fortunately this closer lodge sits a bit out of the way as well.

The day was getting later and the final haul was upon me. The weather became overcast, so the sun no longer threatened to burn and naturally the air was cooler. We could not have asked for a better day, it was perfect.

The final 45 minutes of the climb is pretty much straight up. The red-roofed lodge is in clear site, hikers that have already reached the top can be seen waving and you know in your head that it is almost over. Hallelujah. So, at last, at around 4:30, I reached the top. And was immediately greeted by an Aussie, who asked where we had come from. Bladder full, I could only get out "the bottom." "Ha ha ha," he chuckled "no really where did you start?" "The bottom, Kamikocho." Look of disbelief at a few women making the trek in a day was the only response. "Where is the bathroom?"

The lodge at Yari's peak is incredible. For not much money, you get a nice futon to sleep in, a warm room, meals if you want and the company of other Yari conquerors. And a souvenir stand. What would Japan be without the souvenir.

That night, legs aching, we passed out early. Lights in the lodge come on at 4:30am and the place is a buzz. Knowing that the sun sets around 5:30, we downed some breakfast and geared up for climbing. The morning on the mountain was beautiful, with the summit silhouetted against the still dark, but bright blue sky. And we gazed in wonder at those already ascending the tip. We had been told that this last bit only takes around twenty minutes to climb, but it is unlike the other parts of the hike. It is pretty much vertical climbing. As close as you can get to needing gear without needing it. Let me put it this way, there are ladders and chains, white arrows painted on the rocks to guide the way and the danger of being hit in the head by falling rocks (note: yelling "rock" in English is not too helpful when in the company of non-english speakers. Yes the yelling itself is noticed, but the necessary reaction is not as prompt, since it is delayed by the "why is that gaijin yelling?" look). Luckily no one was hurt. But getting to the summit was a bit scary. I resisted temptation to look down to often, but could not help assessing the result of a fall and I came to the conclusion that had I slipped off of the rock, there was nothing sturdy enough to break my fall and I would rather easily take more colorfully-clad clad mountain-goers down with me. But as I said, no one was hurt.

The final ladder was exciting. The top is amazing. My first summit, my first real climb, the first time I have felt above my surrounding land masses. The third highest peak is also in the Japanese alps, but is too far to seem below. We arrived just as the sun was peaking through the clouds. Again, as the day before, perfect weather.

After taking it all in, and taking too many pictures, we descended the ladders and gripped the chains back down to the lodge to get packed up for the long climb down.

We decided to take a different route down the mountain, down the backside and through the valley, to get a new view of the area and on the map it looked a bit shorter than going back the way we came. Should have listened harder to the hiker from Chicago we ran into, who had changed her plans to go down the valley route because of the hike the day before (she took the same 1 day trip up to Yari). She and her boyfriend decided instead to take it easy and go back the way they had come up (the way we had come up). Well, the warning lights failed to go off and we headed down the new route. It started off rocky, straight down and rocky. The impact on the knees began to take its toll (13 years of gymnastics will do that to you) and thus, my mood took a turn for the worse as well.

Basically, the straight down, stepping on rocks, concentrating on not twisting your ankle or slipping, never ended...for 6 hours. My silence indicated my mood to my climbing mates and I unhappily trudged on. The environment on this side of the mountain was much different than the day before. Less dry, more like a jungle, mostly covered by trees. The path was narrow the entire time and the rock valleys were far too frequent for me. It was beautiful no doubt, but I was looking down the entire time so that my jello legs and aching knee wouldn't fail me and slip off a rock. Okay, so I exaggerate. But this is definitely how the last three hours were. Me silent, not entirely happy, ready to get off of the damn mountain, Erin in back of me, knees failing her as well, Corri way ahead, jaunting along happily, occasionally yelling and clapping to scare away any possible bears.

Finally we reached a road...after passing a farm, climbing over many bridges, hearing monkeys in the trees (but seeing none :() and me silently pouting in the best way I know how. And although the road lasted for another hour and we saw a rock that we swore was a baby bear (add 30 minutes to the journey) I made it to the bus stop with both legs still in tact and feeling very very accomplished.

That night, we feasted in one of the many treats of Japan, the Onsen. Onsens are mineral baths and are EVERYWHERE. Some are nicer than others, some outside, some inside, all have showers (so when camping and in need...) and all are considerably cheap. That night we soaked our aching, tired bodies in about ten different outside mineral baths at an Onsen near our campsite costing only 500 yen (~$5). It was what we had been looking forward too, it is what got me down Yari.

The rest of the weekend was filled with food and Onsen, thatched roofs, waterfalls and driving. My first time up north since arriving in Japan, it was nice to get out of Wakayama and it was amazing to make the climb. Next on the docket, Fuji.
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And to think that as a kid I would throw a tantrum at the mere sound of the word "walk". Tis true, ask my mom.

**this event actually took place a couple of weeks ago, I just lag.

Rest Stop, Japanese Alps Style

Bathroom Stop

Yari in the Distance

Among the Pack(s)

Yari Pose, Fresh on Arrival at the Peak

Erin and I taking a load of at the Lodge (I could only finish half the beer)

Yari's Summit in the Early Mornin'

Making our way up, Lodge getting smaller

Corri climbing up the last ladder

Mission Accomplished




Yari's Shadow

Coming Down



back on level ground

Onsen Relief

Just Startin' Out, Feeling Good

The Fox that Stole my Flashlight
(Erin's photo)

Kumo

Just thought I would give a visual for the "spiders as big as your hand." I don't kid.

T-Shirt Award of the Day

Front: "INPUT"
Back: "You start with Olive's New Concepts."

Just in case you were all a little lost, something to help you begin.