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sechan19I was intending to post my week-long adventures to the blog in intensive detail, but now that I find myself back in California (with a host of responsibilities pressing in upon me) I just can't bring myself to give a blow-by-blow account. What follows is a bare-bones report, and for that I apologize.
I left early in the morning for the Hakone trip, and that turned out to be a wise decision. We (myself and three companions: Rocky Choi, Casey Boyle, and his Hetero-Life-Mate "Trickin' Rei") managed to beat the incoming crowds by taking the early trains and were relaxing in the tranquility of hot-spring pools of varying mixtures (sake, wine, tea, coffee, charcoal, curry, etc.) by noon. The day in the onsen (hot spring) passed languidly and more slowly than any of us could believe. Contrary to the way time ordinarily works (with loathsome tasks taking eternity and pleasant ones passing in the blink of an eye), our stay in the onsen was perfectly unending and beautiful.
Other highlights included partying goofily in the hotel room, taking a whirlwind trip to view the scenery and greenery of the greater Hakone area (by cable car, funicular, and pirate ship), and hiking a portion of the Old Tokaido Highway in the driving rain. Despite the torrential downpour that persisted throughout our three-and-a-half hour hike (and beyond), we had a time incomparable. No one even suggested punking out on account of the rain, and the whole walk was a shifting scene of laughter, introspection, and awe.
Throughout the walk, Rocky Choi was having a problem with his balance that left us by times concerned and amused. He took our persistent ribbing with very good grace, which was impressive considering some of the phraseology we came up with to disgrace him. (Casey and Rei were both masters of the American put-down, often spouting one-liners of stunning complexity and hilarity. Both claimed to rarely have any sense of what was coming out of their mouths - a statement that makes their talents all the more impressive in this bitch's opinion.)
The Hakone group vibe was unbelievably solid, with everyone liking and respecting one another, feeling comfortable and happy, and just delighting in the novelty of seeing something of this beautiful nation in good company after ten weeks of amazingly hard work at KCP. There was a fantastic camaraderie that seemed to spring instantaneously up around us, accompanied by the sense that no matter what happened in the future that it would continue to be there because of the specialness of the shared experience in the mountains.
I split from my friends (with plans to meet up in Tokyo later in the week) on Monday to visit my old Japanese tutor, Takako-sensei, and her husband, Paul, in the little hamlet of Nasu-shiobara. Takako-sensei and I had a delightful reunion and a chance to become real friends on this trip. I also found a kindred in Paul, who shared my admittedly strange sense of humor and interest in movies. They took me into the surrounding mountains for an evening at another onsen resort, complete with twelve-course traditional Japanese dinner and 40-minute massage. The masseur was an elderly, blind gentleman, who had been a masseur for untold years. He was very, very good, and we discussed traditional Japanese culture and my reasons for visiting the country in my, by now, very respectable Japanese. He reportedly later told Takako-sensei that I was a very smart girl - high and heartwarming praise.
I had numerous interesting conversations with both Takako and Paul, and had the opportunity to see something of life outside the city. I also saw some incredible sights in the mountains, including the Nasu-Onsen Shrine and the nearby 96 Jizo statues that were all dressed in knitted scarves, hats, gloves, and sweaters. Apparently because they are outside various people, feeling badly for the statues, have made clothing for them to keep them warm and safe from the elements. Fascinating, ne? I took a plethora of pictures of the little figures, marveling at the various brightly colored garments that each possessed and considering yet another example of the brilliant blend of Japan's two main religions. Jizo are Buddhist figures, but the Japanese tendency to worry about stones catching their death of cold is all Shinto.
Back in Tokyo, I reunited with my boys for a couple of evenings in an Asakusa hostel. I had the chance to see a few more sites - Sensoji Temple, Ueno Park, and the Tokyo National Museum (which had some wonderful pieces on display). At the Tokyo National Museum I happened to notice that they will be showing Hasegawa Tohaku's peerless Pine Trees byobu in January when I plan to be back for a two-week visit with my mother, so I must-must-must see it.
On our last night, Rocky Choi, Casey, and I headed out for yakitori. (Rei had two - count 'em two - dates lined up for the evening.) The restaurant I'd suggested was full for the evening, so we made our way to a place Casey knew of near Kichijo station. They had room for us and a wonderful, and inexpensive, meal ensued. On the way home, Casey forgot some of his newly-bought books on the metro so off we went to the station-master's office, where I utilized my mad level-three-go! skills to explain our malfunction and get the books back. In the course of all this scrambling about, I was able to catch a glimpse of my one (and only) mullet of the entire trip - which, of course, made it all worthwhile.
Making my way to Narita Airport in the morning was a hell that I will not relive again - even in print - but I will say that the burdens were lessened by the continual kindness of Japanese strangers, who by turns helped me carry things, helped me find places, and helped me smooth out the inevitable wrinkles of travel. Their generosity left me with an even greater impression of this magnificent land and tremendous people than I had previously possessed.
From start to finish, Tokyo was a dream come true.
I can't wait to do it all again.
I left early in the morning for the Hakone trip, and that turned out to be a wise decision. We (myself and three companions: Rocky Choi, Casey Boyle, and his Hetero-Life-Mate "Trickin' Rei") managed to beat the incoming crowds by taking the early trains and were relaxing in the tranquility of hot-spring pools of varying mixtures (sake, wine, tea, coffee, charcoal, curry, etc.) by noon. The day in the onsen (hot spring) passed languidly and more slowly than any of us could believe. Contrary to the way time ordinarily works (with loathsome tasks taking eternity and pleasant ones passing in the blink of an eye), our stay in the onsen was perfectly unending and beautiful.
Other highlights included partying goofily in the hotel room, taking a whirlwind trip to view the scenery and greenery of the greater Hakone area (by cable car, funicular, and pirate ship), and hiking a portion of the Old Tokaido Highway in the driving rain. Despite the torrential downpour that persisted throughout our three-and-a-half hour hike (and beyond), we had a time incomparable. No one even suggested punking out on account of the rain, and the whole walk was a shifting scene of laughter, introspection, and awe.
Throughout the walk, Rocky Choi was having a problem with his balance that left us by times concerned and amused. He took our persistent ribbing with very good grace, which was impressive considering some of the phraseology we came up with to disgrace him. (Casey and Rei were both masters of the American put-down, often spouting one-liners of stunning complexity and hilarity. Both claimed to rarely have any sense of what was coming out of their mouths - a statement that makes their talents all the more impressive in this bitch's opinion.)
The Hakone group vibe was unbelievably solid, with everyone liking and respecting one another, feeling comfortable and happy, and just delighting in the novelty of seeing something of this beautiful nation in good company after ten weeks of amazingly hard work at KCP. There was a fantastic camaraderie that seemed to spring instantaneously up around us, accompanied by the sense that no matter what happened in the future that it would continue to be there because of the specialness of the shared experience in the mountains.
I split from my friends (with plans to meet up in Tokyo later in the week) on Monday to visit my old Japanese tutor, Takako-sensei, and her husband, Paul, in the little hamlet of Nasu-shiobara. Takako-sensei and I had a delightful reunion and a chance to become real friends on this trip. I also found a kindred in Paul, who shared my admittedly strange sense of humor and interest in movies. They took me into the surrounding mountains for an evening at another onsen resort, complete with twelve-course traditional Japanese dinner and 40-minute massage. The masseur was an elderly, blind gentleman, who had been a masseur for untold years. He was very, very good, and we discussed traditional Japanese culture and my reasons for visiting the country in my, by now, very respectable Japanese. He reportedly later told Takako-sensei that I was a very smart girl - high and heartwarming praise.
I had numerous interesting conversations with both Takako and Paul, and had the opportunity to see something of life outside the city. I also saw some incredible sights in the mountains, including the Nasu-Onsen Shrine and the nearby 96 Jizo statues that were all dressed in knitted scarves, hats, gloves, and sweaters. Apparently because they are outside various people, feeling badly for the statues, have made clothing for them to keep them warm and safe from the elements. Fascinating, ne? I took a plethora of pictures of the little figures, marveling at the various brightly colored garments that each possessed and considering yet another example of the brilliant blend of Japan's two main religions. Jizo are Buddhist figures, but the Japanese tendency to worry about stones catching their death of cold is all Shinto.
Back in Tokyo, I reunited with my boys for a couple of evenings in an Asakusa hostel. I had the chance to see a few more sites - Sensoji Temple, Ueno Park, and the Tokyo National Museum (which had some wonderful pieces on display). At the Tokyo National Museum I happened to notice that they will be showing Hasegawa Tohaku's peerless Pine Trees byobu in January when I plan to be back for a two-week visit with my mother, so I must-must-must see it.
On our last night, Rocky Choi, Casey, and I headed out for yakitori. (Rei had two - count 'em two - dates lined up for the evening.) The restaurant I'd suggested was full for the evening, so we made our way to a place Casey knew of near Kichijo station. They had room for us and a wonderful, and inexpensive, meal ensued. On the way home, Casey forgot some of his newly-bought books on the metro so off we went to the station-master's office, where I utilized my mad level-three-go! skills to explain our malfunction and get the books back. In the course of all this scrambling about, I was able to catch a glimpse of my one (and only) mullet of the entire trip - which, of course, made it all worthwhile.
Making my way to Narita Airport in the morning was a hell that I will not relive again - even in print - but I will say that the burdens were lessened by the continual kindness of Japanese strangers, who by turns helped me carry things, helped me find places, and helped me smooth out the inevitable wrinkles of travel. Their generosity left me with an even greater impression of this magnificent land and tremendous people than I had previously possessed.
From start to finish, Tokyo was a dream come true.
I can't wait to do it all again.
