What I'm Thankful For This Year

As Thanksgiving grows ever closer, I find myself feeling a little homesick.  This will be the first time in my entire life that I've missed our annual Thanksgiving feast, an event that's been going on since before I was born.  While I will be sorely missing my family, friends and holiday food, I still have a great many things to be thankful for, and I wanted to take a few minutes to go over them all.

I'm thankful for my family, who supported me in my decision to travel to Japan (and soon, to Korea.)  They supported me through many frustrating years of school, unemployment and part-time work as well, with nary a complaint.  None of us have any idea when I'll come back home, but they helped me get out here in so many ways, and continue to help me even now.  They also helped me become the man I am today, a man that I'm happy to be.

I'm thankful for my best friend, Greg, and his wife, Claire.  He's also played a large part in my continuing development to be a better person, notably by helping me break out of the extremely shy shell I was locked in during my early college years.  In addition, we've developed our senses of humor by bouncing off each other and making each other laugh whenever we could.  I'm glad that he connected with someone as special and awesome as Claire, and I'm grateful to both of them for opening their home to me every six months or so (as well as generously paying for the occasional plane ticket) so that we could hang out like old times.  Greg was the one who encouraged me to try out for this job, and I'm happy that he gave me the push to try something new.

I'm thankful for my other best friend, Soee Noh.  We met almost a year ago today in San Francisco on the Sunday after Thanksgiving (November 28th, 2010,) and we've been in almost constant communication since then.  We've supported and encouraged each other through hard times, and given each other strength and advice when we needed it.  We've had a couple plans to see each other fall through this year, but we're finally going to see each other in Seoul after Christmas (December 28 – January 1) for the first time in over a year.  She's the reason I'm planning to teach in Seoul next year, and for my growing interest in Korean culture.  I wouldn't leave Japan after only a year and three months for something small, and I'm happy to count her as one of my closest friends!

I'm thankful for all my other friends in the US, Japan and elsewhere.  I've had a lot of great experiences studying, working and hanging out with you all, and I'm sorry that I haven't done as good a job of keeping in touch as I'd like.  I hope that things are going well for everyone, and that you all have a very happy Thanksgiving!

I'm thankful for my health.  Aside from one major (but relatively manageable) malady, I've never been in better shape, and I haven't been seriously ill since coming here (other than that ear infection, but that wasn't so bad.)  It's telling that my diet actually got slightly less healthy after I came to Japan ;)  On a related note, I'm thankful for having a sound mind, which has allowed me to adapt fairly well to (and become quite comfortable with) a new career and drastically different surroundings.

I'm thankful for said new career, one that I genuinely enjoy and can see myself doing for the foreseeable future – not all of us can say those things about our jobs.  I'm thankful for having great coworkers, who are easy-going and a pleasure to spend time with.  I understand that things weren't always as great in the past, so I'm doubly fortunate that things clicked into place just in time for my arrival.  The students are great, too, of course, and they really are the heart and soul of this endeavor.  Without the enthusiasm and intense desire to learn that our students bring, my work would be empty and dull.  The walls are paper-thin (we hear each other's classes all the time,) but hey, you can't have everything.

I'm thankful for my living situation.  My apartment is small but cozy (a comfortable size for me,) surprisingly cheap and only a 10-minute walk from work.  It's close to the train station, the post office and a wide variety of supermarkets, and I have a small park right outside my balcony that gives me a pleasant view every day.  I'm on the third floor, so I'm above the prying eyes of the people on the street and low enough that earthquakes don't shake my room too much.  I still haven't had anything break during an earthquake yet!  I may not have an elevator, but I get more exercise taking the stairs anyway.  I'm also in a 'mansion' and not an 'apartment' (mansions are smaller, cheaper and have thicker walls, while apartments are larger, more expensive and have paper-thin walls) and live far enough away from the train station that I don't have the egregious noise problems that plague my coworker.  I never hear my neighbors, though for that matter I hardly ever see them either; if it weren't for the cars in the parking lot, I'd swear no one else lived here.

Lastly, I'm thankful for all the things I have seen and can see here in Japan, as well as the great people I've met here.  I haven't taken advantage of my ability to explore as I should be (I have to admit that I'm more of a stay-at-home type, which is ironic given that I moved to a foreign country.)  Still, I've done and seen some amazing things here so far, and I'm looking forward to getting out there again and sharing it all with you!

Thanks for reading, and have a very happy Thanksgiving!

EDIT: I forgot to mention a couple of things I'm thankful for when I posted this earlier this week.  I'm also thankful for having a strong creative drive, which has seen me through one movie script, one long short story, numerous short short stories, and reams of ideas that I haven't gotten around to writing yet.  Whether I'll ever do creative work professionally is still up in the air, but I still enjoy improving my skills at writing and with the English language and sharing my work with everyone.

Finally, I'm thankful for living in a relatively quiet, safe city that suits my temperament well and that doesn't have outrageously bad weather.  It's not quite as close to San Francisco weather as I was led to believe, but it's also not as extreme as other parts of the country.  It also feels very safe; I never would have felt comfortable walking around with $300 in cash in the US, but that's perfectly normal here since Japan is more cash-based.  I don't feel anywhere near as worried that someone will walk off with my stuff if I take my eye off it for a few moments (though I still watch my possessions like a hawk out of habit.)  Oh, and I'm grateful that I've never been a victim of a violent crime in any country :)

Driving Curiosities and Bad Luck Numbers

Aside from the obvious differences in driving practices – namely that the vehicles and roads are the reverse of their American counterparts – there are a few other details I've noticed that I find interesting.  The first is that people almost universally (at least from what I've seen) back into parking spaces and pull out to leave, even when it's incredibly difficult.  In the US, however, most people drive into parking spaces and then back out to leave.  In addition, every car I've driven in beeps when you back up, just like big cargo vehicles in the US.

Because Japan is a relatively small and highly crowded country, almost all of the space in cities and towns is put to some use.  There are often sprawling blocks crisscrossed with narrow streets and alleys, making for large mazes of little shops and restaurants.  Also tucked away in these back alleys are small open-air parking lots.  Because they don't have the space to gate off entrances and exits, they instead put some curious devices on the ground that pop up and prevent you from driving away until you've paid.

In one parking lot parking lot and a couple others I've seen, they spelled out 'four' instead of using the numeral like every other space. I know that four is a bad luck number because it has the same sound as death ('shi',) but I didn't think that included Roman numerals as well.

 

The Japanese commonly say 'yon' instead of 'shi' to avoid this unfortunate homonym.  They treat it very much like how we treat 13, and will often skip floor or room numbers to get around using it.  Hospitals in particular avoid the number 43, as it sounds the same as stillbirth.  Nine also sounds the same as suffering ('ku',) so they generally say 'kyuu' instead.

One last thing that I almost forgot about is the very large space between the crosswalk and where drivers stop.  The length of the gap depends on the road conditions, but it's nothing like what we have back in San Francisco.

My Trip to Nikko

My solo trip to Nikko started at 7:30 PM on Saturday, right after work.  It had originally been organized by a fellow AEON teacher I trained with, and another teacher was going to be joining us.  Unfortunately, the two of them had to back out, so I made the trek by myself.  I'd had some difficulty finding out the train times for the route I was going to take, but I was reasonably sure that I could make it to Nikko before the last train that night.  Suitcase in hand, I walked briskly to Iwaki Station, and a few minutes later got on the train west to Koriyama.  At Koriyama, I transferred to the bullet train/shinkansen (for reals this time!) to go south to Utsunomiya.  The shinkansen process was a little confusing at first; you have to buy both a regular fare ticket for the distance you want to travel, as well as a shinkansen ticket.  I also accidentally got on one of the reserved cars and had to relocate to a new seat.  In Utsunomiya, I transferred to the JR Nikko Line and had a 40 minute wait for the last train of the night.  I made use of the time to finally grab some dinner, a cheap convenience store bento.  I arrived in Nikko at 11:30 PM, and as soon as I left the station they closed up for the night.  I was pretty amazed that I'd actually managed to get there with such a small margin of error and in the nick of time.  The whole journey cost me close to ¥7000, but it got me there.

Seeing as how it was close to midnight, everything was dark and very foggy.  There were basically no cars on the road, and I had what the Nikko Park Lodge said was a 15 minute walk to the hostel.  I was incredibly grateful to have a smart phone for this trip - I used it religiously on the trains to make sure I was going the right way, and it also came in handy to check the Lodge's written directions against the map.  The hostel itself was located in a small park north-northwest of the station, and it was a little creepy at times with all the fog and occasional animal noises, but I kept my cool and soldiered on.  I got a little bewildered right at the end of my journey; the directions said that the hostel was across from a pottery museum, but there was only a house across the street from the museum.  I wasn't about to knock on anyone's door at midnight and the phone number I had for the hostel didn't seem to work, so I stumbled around for a short while trying to figure out what to do.  I eventually took another look at the map and realized that the pottery museum was on a side street, and that there was a larger building past the house.  It was, in fact, the place I'd been looking for, and the front door was very fortunately unlocked, so I went inside.

Less fortunately, no one was there at 12:15 AM, and until that moment I hadn't thought to call or email them that I would be coming in late.  I've been in Japan long enough that I've gotten used to not communicating with people unless I absolutely have to, and I hadn't expected to be able to speak English here.  I didn't know which room was mine and I didn't have a key anyway, so I changed out of my work clothes in the public restroom and tried to get some sleep on the couch in the front room.  I surprised a couple guests on their way out at 6 AM, and woke up again at 7 AM when one of the staff members came in.  She was a foreigner as well (I think American,) and was both surprised and amused that I had been sleeping on the couch.  She didn't have the authority to check me in, but she got me into my room, and I got to sleep in a bed for another hour before I gave up and came out for breakfast.  One of the owners, who spoke near-perfect English, checked me in and gave me breakfast for free because he was embarrassed about charging me for the two nights I'd booked.  He said that he'd left the front doors unlocked on the off chance that I did show up, which I was immensely grateful for.  I don't know what I would've done if I'd walked all that way just to be locked out for the night.

Once I was cleaned up and fed, I grabbed everything I thought I would need for the day and set out to explore.  At this altitude, many of the trees were still green, though there were many trees with beautiful shades of yellow, orange and red.

I had two maps that the hostel staff gave me, so I at least knew where I was going.  One map mentioned an okonomiyaki restaurant near the shrine and temple area, which I was eager to try out.  I'd heard a lot about okonomiyaki from anime and manga and eaten it once or twice in the US, but I really wanted to eat authentic Japanese okonomiyaki.  It was close to noon by the time I got to the park with the shrines and temples, so I decided to eat lunch before delving into the massive complex.

The restaurant was really neat, with a griddle in the center of every table.  I ordered a shrimp okonomiyaki and miso soup from their English menu, and a short while later the server came back with a bowl of ingredients (shredded cabbage, egg, batter, shrimp, and green onions.)  She had me stir it until it was sufficiently mixed, then poured it on the griddle and told me to flip it every 3 minutes.  Mayonnaise is a common okonomiyaki condiment, but they didn't have any and I wasn't keen on using it anyway.  I brushed mine lightly with a dark brown sauce they had, and it was pretty good.  It wasn't the best thing ever, but it was a good experience and I'm looking forward to doing it again sometime soon.

After lunch, I went back to the park to fully explore the shrines and temples.  Some of the park was free, but of course the best attractions you have to pay to get into.  I bought a combination pass for ¥1300, which got me into most (but not all) of the paid areas.  The extra fees rubbed me the wrong way, and I only had so much time to explore, so I declined to go into any of those places.  The whole complex was amazingly beautiful, with an incredible array of stunning structures and artwork.  I actually almost ran out of batteries in my camera, and I spent the last hour wondering if each shot I took would be my last.  I ran out of light and viewing time (everything closes at 4:30 PM) first, though, so it all worked out for the best.

My one big gripe about the area was how commercialized it was.  Every major structure had people dressed in traditional shrine/temple garb selling various good luck charms and other souvenirs.  There were also huge numbers of omiyage/souvenir shops scattered throughout the park and town selling a variety of other trinkets and knickknacks.  I expected it to some extent, but not at the level that I experienced.  It was kind of sad, like the soul of the area had been compromised to make a buck.  The constant nickel-and-diming was wearing as well, and I was getting it at the hostel, too.  It's a little grating to have to pay ¥100 for a towel just so that you can take a shower.

I got back to the hostel after dark and had a delicious vegetarian curry with brown rice for dinner.  I'd noticed a surprisingly large number of typos in the Lodge's brochure/map, so I took a few minutes to correct everything and gave it to one of the owners.  I have no idea whether he'll do anything with it or not, but it was a good exercise for me.  I'd heard about a hot spring/onsen a short walk away from the hostel, so I went out to find it.  After wandering around in the dark for a while (again,) I eventually stumbled on it.  It only cost ¥400, though I did have to pay ¥300 to rent a towel set.  It was a cozy little place, with four places to clean up before and after entering the hot spring (as per onsen etiquette, to keep the water as clean as possible.)  They had one tiled pool inside, as well as an outdoor bath with more traditional stonework.  A couple guys from the hostel came in while I was getting cleaned up and hopped right in the pool.  They'd never been in an onsen before, and were a little embarrassed once they figured out what they were supposed to have done.  I ended up chatting with them and an older gentleman who spoke excellent English for a while, then went back to the hostel and chatted a little more with some newcomers sharing my room.

I got up at 7 AM the next morning because I was going on a guided tour of the waterfalls and lakes (for ¥4000) with a very nice retired couple from Ohio.  The hostel served breakfast at 8 AM, so our guide (the same owner I'd been talking to before) stopped at a convenience store so we could grab some food to go.  It had been cloudy the day before, and this day was foggy and drizzly as well.  Our first stop was at a moderate sized shrine, and then we went to the Ryuzu (Dragon Head) Falls.

 
After that, we stopped at Lake Chuzenji, though it was too foggy to see much.

Next, we drove to the source of the hot springs in the area.  The water was a very interesting mix of blue, white and green from the sulfur, and the air smelled very strongly of eggs.  We tested the water and it was, in fact, quite hot!

We then walked over to a sulfur spring foot bath, where we relaxed in the hot water and talked for about an hour.

Next on our itinerary was the Yudaki Falls, easily the most impressive one we'd seen yet.

We saw another group of people from the hostel and exchanged a few words, then moved on to our last stop.  I don't know the name of this waterfall, but unfortunately it was much too foggy to see anything.  We could hear the waterfall, but it was completely obscured.  We could have taken an elevator (for ¥500) up to an observation point closer to the waterfall, which a large line of people were doing.  However, our guide astutely pointed out that there was a TV monitor showing the view of the waterfall from the observation point, and that you could barely see the waterfall on the screen.  We wisely chose to save our money and went back to the hostel, arriving a little after 1 PM.

Our guide generously offered to drive me to the station, so I grabbed my bags and started my long trek back to Iwaki.  It was a pretty uneventful journey until Koriyama, when I realized that the next train wasn't coming for almost an hour and wouldn't even take me all the way to Iwaki.  Around the time it was supposed to arrive, I did some more research on my phone and found out, to my dismay, that train service between Koriyama and Iwaki was spotty because the highway buses handled most of the traffic.  I (probably foolishly) decided to stick it out and took the train to Ononiimachi, about halfway to Iwaki, then had to endure another hour and a half wait for the next train.  I finally got back to Iwaki Station around 8 PM, dropped off the omiyage I bought for my coworkers at school and trudged home, exhausted.  It's kind of crazy to think that it took me four hours to get there, but seven hours to get back.  I'm definitely taking the bus the next time I have to go to or through Koriyama.

All in all, it was a pretty amazing trip.  I would have preferred to hang out with my fellow AEON teachers, but it did give me the freedom to see what I wanted to see at my own pace.  I didn't exactly keep careful records, but I think the trip cost me somewhere between ¥40,000 – ¥50,000 altogether, which I guess isn't too bad.  I also learned a lot about getting around in Japan, and I feel much more comfortable and confident about taking the train now.  I'm not sure what the next place I'll visit in Japan will be, but I'm pretty sure it'll be great, too!

A Japanese Funeral Service

Sadly, our new assistant manager's father suffered a stroke and passed away this Thursday.  To show our support, most of us at work went to the service tonight.  We also all chipped in ¥1000 as a donation to the family.  Unfortunately, the other foreign teacher and I were unable to dress completely appropriately, since neither of us had black suits and ties.  AEON's dress code forbids us from wearing all-dark suits in the classroom, and we never expected to need funeral wear, so we wore the darkest clothes we had and hoped for the best.

One of the Japanese teachers picked us up and drove us to the funeral parlor, which was only about a 10-minute drive away and much closer than we expected.  We met up with the other teachers who were able to attend, five of us in total, and went inside at 5:30 PM.  The Japanese teachers had envelopes wrapped in purple cloth, which they unwrapped and handed to an employee at the front desk in exchange for a small ticket.  I understand that the envelopes contained the money offering we and others at AEON donated.

After a quick explanation, we entered the room where the service was being held.  Closest to the entrance, there were three rows of chairs on each side for guests.  Two smaller rows of chairs on each side were placed at an angle for the family of the deceased, slanting inwards towards a pair of tables.  At the far end of the room was a picture of her father, a black-and-gray speckled cube-shaped box and a large wooden frame resembling Japanese-style roof or gate.  The picture was flanked by a number of flower bouquets, signs with kanji printed on them, candles, a pair of wooden phoenixes, and two glass containers filled with lightly-bubbling water.  A plate of apples sat on the right side, and on the left was what I think was a plate of grapefruits.  One very odd thing in the room was a large circular wreath on the right wall, which had an advertisement for some sort of drink in the center of it.

The table closest to the door held four sets of two polished clay pots, one smaller and square-shaped and the other taller and rectangular.  The smaller pot contained small, gray grains of what I think was incense, while the larger one had a small piece of burnt wood and its ashes.  Attendees are supposed to enter the room and bow deeply to the family members on each side of the room.  They should then go up to one of the sets of pots, take a pinch of the incense, raise it to their forehead, and place it in the ashes.  They should do this three times, each time acting as a prayer to a different group of people, though I don't know the details.  Afterwards, they should bow to the picture of the deceased and the family one more time, then leave the room.  I had no idea about any of this, and attempted to mimic what I could see (behind people as tall as or taller than myself) as best I could.  I picked up a pinch of the incense only once and put it back in the same pot, though I at least got the bowing right (I think.)

Once we finished paying our respects to the family, we went to a large dining room on the other side of the hall.  There was a small table of food, with sandwiches, tempura shrimp and vegetables, sushi, and a few other things.  Each table also had a plate of rice, which I was told was a special dish of glutinous rice (used for making rice cakes) and soy sauce that is only served at funerals.  Serving women provided us with cups of hot tea, and the tables had a selection of chilled drinks, including soda, orange juice, oolong tea, and nonalcoholic beer.  We were informed that it was polite to enjoy the food that the family had provided, so we somberly helped ourselves to a small plate of food each and chatted quietly for about a half-hour.  One of the Japanese teachers commented that she had been with the company for 10 years and had never attended a service for the family of a coworker, which we agreed was a good sign.

Around 6:00 PM, we were ushered back into the service room and sat down in the guest seats.  A funeral parlor employee went behind a folding screen in the far left corner of the room where she was out of sight, dimmed the lights and spoke a few words.  Everyone stood, put their hands together to pray and bowed their heads.  I wasn't sure whether my eyes should be open or closed, so I kept them closed.  A Buddhist monk (priest?) slowly walked into the room and took a seat at the table closest to the shrine.  We all sat back down as the man, dressed in yellow and green robes, began to chant.  The monk began by tapping a large reddish-black bowl with a soft mallet, which produced a sound very similar to a tuning fork, three times.  He then picked up another mallet and started to hit a steady beat on a wooden drum with a carved and rounded, dome-like top.  He chanted along with the drumbeat for some time, then tapped the bowl and wound down the drumbeat with a short series of increasingly faster and softer hits.  My thought is that the steady beat symbolizes healthy life, while the otherworldly sound of the bowl and the fading beat symbolizes the transition from life to death.  I could be completely wrong, of course, but this is what came to mind as I heard it.

The monk prayed with a long ring of beads (similar to a very large rosary,) then repeated the series of chanting and music described in the above paragraph.  After another silent prayer he continued chanting, and occasionally tapped a smaller version of the bowl, which produced a much higher-pitched sound.  An attendant in white gloves walked around taking pictures, always bowing very deeply and formally before and after each picture.  The lighting behind the shrine changed, and the family members stood up and paid their respects to the father.  The widow wore a jet-black kimono, while the others wore all-black suits and dresses.  After the family, all the attendees stood up and paid their respects one more time.  I got the ritual right on the second try, thankfully, though I needed a little help with stage directions.  When everyone was finished paying their respects and were seated, the monk rang the smaller bowl three times and ended his chant.  We all stood and prayed again as he left the room, then left ourselves.

We were told that we could go back to the dining room and help ourselves to more food, though none of us felt like doing so.  Our assistant manager and her mother came out to speak to us briefly and thank us for coming, which they did with warm smiles.  I was surprised at how stoic the ceremony was – no one had shed a tear or so much as sniffled.  The Japanese teachers exchange their tickets at the front desk for medium-sized gift bags, which they said were a token of the family's appreciation for their attendance and contained green tea and other things.

Outside, there was a small stone fountain flanked by two round wooden tables, each with a white towel on a hanger and a small bowl of salt.  Because of our close proximity to spirits and the deceased, we needed to purify ourselves with the salt and water.  We each picked up a pinch of salt, rubbed it on our hands, sprinkled some on our clothes, and then washed our hands.  We said our farewells and left around 7:15 PM, earlier than I had expected.

I understand that the funeral will take place tomorrow.  The timing is especially unfortunate because our assistant manager's birthday was yesterday; it will probably be a sad reminder for years to come.  My heart goes out to her and her family for this tragic loss, and I hope she is able to recover from this soon.  They have my deepest condolences in this trying time.