Learning Japanese - Validation

Studying another language is difficult and it sometimes feels like I'm not making progress. I'll sit on the train trying to understand what Japanese people are saying and I'll only be able to pick out a few words. Or I'll try to read advertisements and forget what certain kanji mean. But then things like the following happen that validate my attempts to learn Japanese.

This afternoon in one of my classes I corrected an 8 year old girl's kanji. There was a picture of a train ticket from Tokyo to Osaka and I pointed to Tokyo and asked if she knew what this word was. I helped her sound it out and then she wrote the kanji for it above the word. But I noticed that one of them was wrong. And she didn't. I looked at her, then at the kanji, then at her again thinking she would notice, but she hadn't. So I went for it.

Mike: Is this 'Tou'? *pointing at the kanji on the left*
Student: Chigau! ...Sensei, kanji ga wakaru?
Mike: No. *smiling*

"Chigau" is the verb "to differ from," but used the way she used it it roughly translates to "It's different!" "Sensei, kanji ga wakaru?" means "Do you understand kanji?" This episode took maybe 30 seconds but it made me feel pretty good about myself... Even if it was just one simple kanji that the 8 year old I corrected can draw better than I can with her left hand. Blind folded.

My other Japanese language episode was a lot more validating.

I was heading out to pick up some wine for a party last weekend and on my way out the lobby a Japanese woman said "Excuse me" in Japanese. From here on in, everything written in English was said in Japanese.

"Yes?" I said, smiling.

"Do you know how to use these new mailboxes?"

I turned around thinking there must have been a Japanese person behind me that she was talking to. But there wasn't. She was asking me, a dirty foreigner, how to do something she, a Japanese woman, didn't know how to do. I was floored. But it just so happened that I did know how to use the new mailboxes. So I mustered up my courage and saved the day.

"First, you have to turn to the right till the dial starts clicking. Then, stop at the first number. After that, turn left to zero and open the door." This was all said with perfect Japanese (and a little pantomiming...) - but there was one problem.

I was using my mailbox to give the demonstration, which made her think that every mailbox had the same code. Apparently she didn't get her code in the mail, which explained why she didn't know how to open the door. So I guess I didn't save the day entirely.

If you don't understand how these little events can make someone happy then you have to imagine experiencing them as someone who is learning a foreign language. The majority of the time it's frustrating as hell but then these little things happen that make the studying worthwhile.

After I bid the lady good evening ("Konbanwa!") I smiled the whole way to the store and all the way back. And it was the first thing I told Aimee about when she got home. And the first thing I told my friends at the dinner party. And, hopefully, it will be one of many more anecdotes about how learning another language is a lot of fun.

My First Experience Fishing in Japan

Two weeks ago I was invited to go deep sea fishing with one of my students and some of his friends. I happily accepted as I haven't been fishing since the summer of 2009 and I've missed it greatly.

On the morning of 7 November we arrived at the fishing wharf at the crack of dawn - 5:45. My friend had reserved us a spot on a boat headed out to catch scabbard fish. Before coming to Japan I'd never heard of them. They're thin, silver fish that have a whip-like tail and don't put up much of a fight. If I caught any there will be pictures somewhere in this post...

We got on the water by 6:00 and had our lines wet by 7:00. Wet, and tangled. There were 30 people on the boat and there was no more than a meter between each person. This resulted in a lot of lines getting tangled - sometimes three or four different lines. This happened so frequently that there were people employed whose only job was to untangle tangled lines. Our lines were getting tangled every one out of three times we reeled in - though strangely never with each other, even though we were standing next to each other.

Having our lines tangled so often was frustrating for both of us - for similar and different reasons. The similarity of our frustration was that we had both paid money to come fishing, not to get our lines tangled damn near every other cast. Kazu's own frustration came from the trip being less than he had expected for his foreign friend. He put a lot of pressure on himself to deliver a good time and the success or failure of the fishing part of our trip, unlike the excellent dinner and breakfast he prepared, were out of his control. I could tell this bothered him.

My own frustration came from not being able to vent about how shitty the fishing conditions were. They were out of his control and I don't fault him at all, but being able to complain about the fish not biting or giving your brother or father shit because they got their line tangled with yours (never, ever the other way around) has been part of fishing for me since I first learned how. I lack the language skills to vent without potentially offending Kazu so I had to bite my tongue.

We did catch some fish though.

Our first fish came about an hour into the trip at almost the same time. As I was told, they didn't put up much of a fight. They're so small and weak and the line is so strong that it was hard to tell one was even there. I caught two more in the last 5 hours and Kazu caught one. He told me that the scabbard fish season was ending soon so there weren't a lot left. The ones that were still hanging around were the smaller ones we were catching. I didn't mind too much as it was my first time fishing in Japan and I was enjoying the experience, despite the poor conditions.

When we got back to Kazu's place I posed with my fish before he showed me how to clean them.



They were pretty easy to clean. Scale, gut, fillet. The ribs end about halfway down, at which point the tail turns into the whip I was describing. This whip part is the easiest place from which to cut sashimi.



I'd never had sashimi that fresh before. It was delicious. Kazu told me it's his favourite kind of sashimi. He said it was partly because the fish is so fresh, partly because it's not stocked in super markets so it's rare, but mostly because he catches them himself. I understood entirely how something that you catch and prepare yourself tastes infinitely better than something caught and prepared by someone else.

No Wonder We Got Seats

I forgot to post this a couple of weeks ago.

I was working an extra shift on my day off and another teacher and I rode the train home together. This scene greeted us when we got on the train.

Unfortunately I can't move the crap at the right side of the screen so that the full video is viewable from this website.



Public intoxication is really common in Japan and isn't frowned upon. I've seen more drunk people stumbling around the streets here than I ever did at university. And no one cares.

Today I Was A Pirate

The first book I ever received was a present from my grandmother: Today I Was A Pirate. I'm pretty sure that's the book on Amazon but there's no picture so I can't be sure. I have the book at home on a shelf so I can't check the author's name.

It was an excellent book for a kid my age and got me hooked on pirates. How many little boys have a grandmother who encourages them to be a pirate? Just me.

For Halloween at ECC we had to dress up for a week. I teach at 5 different schools so I had to wear my costume five times during the week leading up to Halloween. It wasn't too bad though because I had a sweet costume:



I wasn't really going for the Johnny Depp/Jack Sparrow look but this was the only pirate costume at the department store near our house. It worked out well though. All of my kids liked it (some a little too much as I ended up with significantly less black plastic hair by the end of the week) and all of my staff members were happy to pose with Jack Sparrow. The best part for me was that I looked about 8 feet tall with that hat on.

At the end of the week I realized that I should have dressed up as a pirate a long time ago. I received Today I Was A Pirate when I was 5 or 6 (I think) but Halloween week was the first time I had ever dressed up as a pirate. Sorry I took so long Grandma!

There Are Some Big Spiders in Japan

No, it's not poisonous. We've seen a lot of these spiders while out hiking this autumn but this is the first picture that turned out. They're quite difficult to get the camera to focus on for some reason. I do only have a point-and-shoot which is likely part of the problem.

Spiders don't bother me - I think they're pretty cool. These ones are neat because they're so multicoloured. From far away they all look the same but close up the different markings make them quite distinguishable. They all have a black base with coloured patterns on their legs and bodies. This one was purple, yellow and black. We've seen some with up to five different colours on them: orange, yellow, green, blue and purple.

I was hesitant to pick one of these ones up because they've got some formidable looking mandibles. But when we get spiders in our house I catch them and put them outside. Actually, when Aimee points them out I catch them and put them outside. If Aimee doesn't point them out I just let them roam around our apartment. Usually they're just jumping spiders - those are my favourite. I think they're cute and they're a lot of fun to watch jump around. I'm fascinated by the fact that they can jump distances up to 10 times their body length. That would be 20 meters for someone my size.

My First One-on-One Conversation with a Politician

"Excuse me," the man said, "does this train go to Nagoya?"
"Yes," I said while smiling. "It's two stops from here. Do you want a hand with that bag?" The man was lugging a box from Noritake (a fine porcelain store) and a large suitcase onto the subway.
"Yes, thank you."

We exchanged pleasantries while riding the subway and it turns out I was talking to the former Minister for the Environment of Nicaragua. He was here for the COP (COP stands for the Conference of the Parties to the Convention of Biological Diversity) conference that's being held in Nagoya this year. I asked him in what capacity he was here since he was no longer the Minister for the Environment and he said that he was just here for public relations and to stir up awareness. And also, a very important political position: dirty joke teller. Apparently he likes to tell dirty jokes when he travels.

We continued to talk and he told me that all of the important discussions had already been had before COP 10 had convened. There would be nothing talked about spur of the moment, nothing added to the agenda. There wasn't even anything to sign - it had all been done before any of the nations arrived in Japan. This confirmed a long-standing belief I've had about large, multi-national meetings like COP: they're useless.

Meetings like these (G8, G20, etcetera) could be held over the internet and would save millions of dollars, time, energy, and resources. Instead the host countries waste all of those things for the prestige of hosting these meetings. What a joke. If everything can get agreed upon and signed without having an in-person meeting, then why have one?

There are two other things about giant conferences like COP that bother me: infrastructure that gets built only because there's a big event in town and wasteful advertising.

One:

This is a new bike rental station. I realize that bike rental stations don't fall under infrastructure but I wasn't sure how to classify them. These bike rental stations popped up in about a one kilometer radius of the main COP 10 conference location a week before it convened. They're covered in COP 10 advertising so there's little chance their arrival didn't just happen coincide with the COP 10 conference.

I'm not against bike rentals stations. I think having these stations is a fantastic idea and riding a bike is a great way to see almost any city. Nagoya is quite flat so it's an especially good idea here. My problem is that a project like this likely wouldn't have been undertaken without the COP 10 conference being here. I liken it to Vancouver finally getting a Light Rapid Transit line from downtown Vancouver to the airport. It had been talked about ever since the LRT system first started but it took the Olympics coming to town to finally get it done. Why does something like the Olympics (or in this case a conference whose size pales in comparison to the size of the Olympics) have to come to town to get really useful infrastructure built? If Vancouver was able to throw the kind of money it did at the Olympics then it easily could have afforded to build the Canada Line years ago, so I don't buy the line that the Olympics were necessary to get the money to do it.


Two:

Usually the Nagoya TV Tower is lit up with regular lights but since COP 10 is being held here all of the lights were changed to green. I think this is an unnecessary waste of energy - especially to advertise for a conference about environmentalism. It's also a waste of light bulbs - how many new ones had to be purchased to make the tower green? A better message would have been to have the lights on the TV tower turned off for the conference's two week duration. Having the tower darkened would have caused just as much conversation and would have saved a lot of energy and money.

Meeting this politician was both good and bad. Bad because it made me angry about how much of a waste of time the COP 10 conference is. Good because he was an interesting and funny man. When I asked him what he bought from Noritake he smiled and said, "A beautiful vase for my wife. I have to silence the beast."

After Eight

In North America, After Eight is a delicious after dinner snack. In Japan, after eight is the time you go to the grocery store to get 50% off sushi. Japan's version is substantially better than North America's.

The quality of grocery store sushi is nothing to scoff at. An After Eight bought in Japan tastes the same as one bought in North America, but the quality of sushi from a Japanese grocery store is head-and-shoulders above that from a North American grocery store.

I think the best part of the experience was seeing that we weren't the only people who were waiting around for the sushi to go on sale. Two or three other people were hovering with me waiting for the grocery store clerk to finish tagging the trays of sushi with the discount prices. There's probably a whole sub-culture of people who do nothing but try and buy the best discount sushi they can. I wonder if there's an iPhone app for that...

Idling Cars are Michael's Playthings

Everyone in Japan leaves their car running when they're parked. Every time we walk to the park to go running we walk past parked cars that are sitting idling while their owners are: reading, writing, emailing, talking on the phone, watching movies, smoking, sleeping - you name it, we've seen it. One time when we went running there was a guy who parked his car in front of our apartment and left it running while his wife sat inside it. He was moving boxes in and out of his apartment. When we came back from a 10.4km run (20 minute walk there, 50 minute run, 20 minute walk back) he was still moving boxes into the car and it was still running.

When we walked to a neighbourhood restaurant this evening we walked past a guy who was sitting in his running car watching a DVD and using an electric razor that was plugged into the car's cigarette lighter. When taxi drivers park on the side of the main road here to chat with each other they leave their taxis running.

Where am I going with this? I fantasize about turning these vehicles off for their operators and then giggling my ass off when they get upset. In Canada I would (and have) approach(ed) people who do this but here I lack the language skills to properly lay into people when they tell me to mind my own business. You polluting my air is my business and one day when I'm better able to I'll tell you. Or at least find out why idling vehicles are so prevalent here.

As a society we've become dependent on cars and we've decided that it's necessary to use them instead of mass public transit to navigate our cities. This causes a ton of unnecessary pollution - an amount that is increased by idling vehicles. If your vehicle isn't moving it shouldn't be running.

I remember my grandfather telling me that when he went to Switzerland he was amazed to see signs posted indicating that drivers were to turn off their vehicles at stop lights and were only permitted to turn them back on when the light turned green. I was amazed not at the law but that it hasn't been implemented world-wide. It's so simple to do but the effect would be amazing.

I discussed this last night with some friends and their objections were the objections that a lot of people have: it takes more fuel to start a vehicle than it does to leave one running; and, starters will need to be replaced due to more use of the ignition. I told them the same thing I tell everyone else I talk to about idling: those objections are simply not true.

Stop Speaking Japanese To Me

Aimee and I are both studying Japanese but it's not that Japanese that this post is about. Although Aimee does sometimes find it irritating when I speak actual Japanese (my Japanese skills are higher than hers).

As English teachers we sometimes have to simplify our English when we talk to lower-level English speakers. This was a little difficult at first but after almost 7 months here it's ingrained and automatic. So much so that it's transitioned from a classroom thing to an outside-the-classroom thing. Perhaps this was inevitable.

The most common way to simplify your English is to make it really obvious that you're asking a question. In Japanese a question is made by putting a "ka" at the end of the sentence, so there's never any confusion about whether or not a question has been asked. If there's "ka," it's a question. In English it's sometimes a little more subtle. So one way to simplify your speaking is to make questions really obvious by having a rising intonation at the end of every one. This is natural with any yes/no question ("Did you have a good time?" "Do you want to see a movie?"), but a little less so with what/where/when/who questions.

We had this exchange last night:

Mike: What are you going to buy me for dessert? *his voice rising*

Aimee: Stop speaking Japanese.

Mike: Uh, what?

Aimee: You're speaking to me like I'm a Japanese person. *her voice rising*

Mike: Am I? *his voice rising*

Aimee: Yes, and it's really irritating.

It can be frustrating having to simplify your English but it's even more frustrating when that simplified English migrates into your everyday life. Next we'll be putting an "s" at the end of uncountable nouns.

Pray for us.

Ankle Socks and Other Workplace Fashion Faux Pas

I wear ankle socks with my dress pants. White ones. Apparently white socks don't match dark pants but it's really comfortable. Dress socks are too tight and make my legs itchy. And they trap heat. When it's 39 degrees plus humidity, every little bit helps. Ankle socks -- of any colour -- are against the dress code but that doesn't bother me. I'm told that if I want to be fashionable I should buy dress socks; at the very least I should wear black ankle socks.

I roll my sleeves up. This isn't against the rules like the ankle socks are but I'm told it's not fashionable. Apparently it's too casual. I'm told that if I want to be fashionable I should buy short-sleeved collared shirts.

I use my hiking day bag to bring books and work stuff to work. It's 4 years old and has been all over the west coast and the Yukon; it's had the shit kicked out of it. It's not dirty but it's worn. It's a great bag and I like it. However, it gets more strange looks than my white ankle socks do. I'm told that if I want to be fashionable I should buy a brief case or, at the very least, a messenger bag.

There is not a chance in hell that I'm buying more Stuff so that I'm considered fashionably dressed. There isn't language strong enough for me to convey how ridiculous I think fashion and its trends are. I don't look unprofessional with my white ankle socks, rolled up sleeves and backpack - I just don't look trendy. It is important to look professional at work - it is not important to look fashionable or trendy.

I got on this rant because 9 times out of 10 when I ask one of my students what their hobbies are, they tell me, "Shopping." And when it happened again yesterday I had to vent.

Shopping is not a fucking hobby. And you don't need to buy clothes every 4 months because the trends change. Some assholes you've never met set trends. Buy clothing that never goes out of style and stop wasting time, energy, money and resources on trends.

The Night Summer and Autumn Battled for Supremacy

This past Wednesday night we went to our friends' apartment to, as they put it, enjoy some "light drinking and stimulating conversation." The evening delivered on both counts but it's difficult to say why. The conversation is always stimulating but either it remained so because the drinking was light or the drinking was light because the conversation wasn't belligerent. It's typically the former when we don't discuss politics, and even when we do discuss them the belligerence isn't aimed at anyone in our group because we're all level-headed. It's fun to discuss politics but we get all riled up and are basically just complaining about the state of the world. But I digress - there was a battle to speak of.

We got home in the middle of the night and promptly went to sleep. Shortly thereafter we were woken by what I would imagine the sky would sound like if it were falling. Thunder overcame the silence like a wave: a low rumbling began at one end of the city and at its crescendo crashed upon the city-centre. Autumn was announcing its return from a long absence. In its absence summer had cast its heavy, humid blanket upon the city. Its removal sounded like the sky was being ripped apart and the pieces were being cast down around us. The sounds of this sundering went on for upwards of a minute and a half.

To those who would say I am trying to pull a memory through the fog of sleep in my estimation of how long the thunderclaps lasted, I say nay. I counted. One minute and thirty-one seconds was the longest one I counted and it was awesome. I've seen some incredible lightning storms before but I've never heard thunder to match what I heard Wednesday night/Thursday morning. What made it all the more incredible was the timing.

The Japanese are known for having their trains run on time and they have it down to a science. It's possible to set your clocks by them. To those who would scoff at this, again I say nay. I've done it. The circuit board in my cell phone has nothing on the punctuality of a Japanese train. And apparently, a record-breaking hot summer has nothing on the punctuality of autumn. The night of the storm was 22 September - the autumnal equinox.

The day after autumn vanquished summer the change in the weather was instantaneous: 35 degrees became 25 degrees; 90% humidity became 30% humidity. Typically seasons merge together in a blurring-of-the-lines sort of way. Here it was like a train arriving: one second the platform is empty and the next there's a train screaming to a halt.

On time.

More Strange Subway Stuff

I wrote 3 months ago about some strange stuff I saw one day. I've since seen much more pornographic sandwich board advertising and have even seen more of the little Michael Jackson impersonator. But until today I hadn't seen much more strange subway stuff.

I was riding home from school practicing Japanese and two Japanese girls sat down beside me. I didn't give them much thought and went back to trying to learn 3000 kanji so I can read a Japanese book (only ~2850 to go!).

A few stops after the girls got on the train I noticed a guy shoving himself through what was now a crowded subway car. He wasn't excusing himself as he pushed his way from one end to the other. He was making for the other end of the car but when he was perpendicular to the girl two spots to the right of me he made an abrupt turn toward her and pushed his way past a couple more people to stand in front of her. He grabbed two of the rings hanging from the ceiling and then leaned in, bringing his face about 4 centimeters from hers.

From the moment I noticed this asshole shoving himself through the crowd to the point where he leaned into this girl's face was about 10 seconds. At first I thought he was just a rude asshole; then I thought that this rude asshole must know this girl because he made an abrupt turn toward her. But he didn't.

Immediately after leaning into her personal space he repeatedly shouted "Sumimasen! Sumimasen!" ("Excuse me! Excuse me!"). He shouted for about five seconds and then, disgusted that the girl didn't acknowledge him, resumed pushing his way through the crowd to the other end of the train car.

I was totally fixated on this guy: from the moment I noticed him pushing his way through the crowd, to when he was shouting at the girl, to when he stormed off in anger, I didn't take my eyes off of him. And I was the only one. Not a single person cared that he was pushing his way through the crowd; not a single person cared that he was shouting at some girl; and not a single person cared when he resumed shoving his way through the crowd. The strangest part was that the girl he was shouting at didn't bat an eyelash while he shouted at her.

When the screamer exited the car I looked over at the girl and she was gorgeous - and very composed. Her beauty explained why the guy took an interest in her but I wasn't able to figure out how she remained totally serene. It bothered me more than it did her that she got screamed at by this guy. She acted as if he hadn't existed. Maybe she's adjusted to these kinds of things the same way women in North American adjust to being hooted and hollered at?

If I spoke better Japanese I would have loved to talk to her about the whole episode. If I ever see her again I'll have a leg up on the competition, too - I'll know not to break the ice with a "Sumimasen."

How We Almost Killed Our Japanese Friend

Most of you know that we've got some elderly Japanese friends who like to show us around Japan. This past Sunday we went with them to Yunouyama Onsen to go hiking. They had wanted to take us out hiking ever since they rescued us back in May and the weather had finally cooperated (read: cooled down) enough that we could go hiking with them. Or so we believed.

We met them at the train station at 7:00 in the morning and caught up on what we'd all been up to since the last time we were together. Yasuo (the one we're closest with) had climbed up a mountain near Fujisan and he showed us some pictures of his adventure; we showed him some from our summer hike from Tateyama to Kamikochi.

The train ride out to the base of the mountain was an hour and a half. On the way I practiced my Japanese and Yasuo practiced his English. My Japanese is a lot better when I practice it in my head - when I actually have to speak Japanese to Japanese people I get nervous and verbally stumble around like an idiot. I'm sure it's very endearing to my Japanese friends but for me it's frustrating.

When we got to the base of the mountain, Yasuo pointed out the hotel where we'd be drinking beer and relaxing in the onsen after our hike. It was a ritzy looking European-style hotel. We were excited to get into the onsen but then Yasuo told us that it wasn't a real onsen - it was just boiled water. This news was a little disappointing but after a long hike even a hot bath feels good.

Early into the hike Yasuo set a pace that was good by our standards - we had expected something a little slower from a man who is in his seventies. But it started to wear on him after about 30 minutes. I think he was worried that we would be frustrated if he slowed down. We assured him we wouldn't but it's difficult to do in a language that neither Aimee nor I have enough skill in to express more than basic feelings. By the time we reached the halfway point he was pretty burned out. Though after some water and a snack you wouldn't know it looking at him.

The above picture was at the halfway point. From right to left: Yasuo, Hayashi-san, and the-guy-with-calves-like-steel-cables.

After snacking at the halfway point, Yauso told us that our group would be splitting into two. He, Hayashi-san and their other friend would form one group and Aimee, me and Steel Cable Calves would form the second group. We would go on ahead since we were younger and the other group would meet us at the top. Please note that we were the younger group in name only - Steel Cable Calves is 60 years old. And he ran us up that mountain like a couple of dogs.

I had been watching Steel Cable Calves for most of the first half of the hike. He was very nonchalant about the hike; he had an air of sprezratura about him that couldn't be ignored. It seemed like he didn't care if he had to walk up the mountain or bound up it as fast as he could. He was more than willing to show us that the latter was as easy as the former.

As soon as I slung my bag onto my back, Steel Cable Calves took off like a shot. His pace was like a speed-walker, but up hill. He didn't scramble up rocks so much as he leaped over them. It was impressive but after a little while it became a little bothersome. Hiking at a fast pace means your eyes are glued to the trail because you don't want to slip up. You can't enjoy any of the scenery and enjoying the scenery is half the reason we go hiking, especially when the view from below the top is a lot better.

To get to the top of Gozaisho (the highest peak in the area, 1212m) you can either hike or take a cable car. If you know me well you can see where I'm going here. Once we got to the top, The Hikers and The Cable Car People mix together and the two just don't fit. I realize I'm generalizing, so please spare me, but I don't like The Cable Car People. It's a 2 hour hike at an easy pace from the bottom of the mountain to the top - there is no reason to build a cable car, a restaurant, a washroom, a petting zoo, a ski hill that maybe has a vertical gain of 100m, and a chair lift for said ski hill. Ridiculous.

The view from the top was beautiful but it was marred by the infrastructure and the crowds of Cable Car People. It was also irritating how impressed The Cable Car People were when we told them that we hiked up instead of taking the cable car. "You hiked up!? Wow, that must have been difficult." No, it wasn't. It's 1212 vertical meters - it's pretty easy. Anyone can do it. Our seventy year old friend is doing it right now. Next time try walking up, and then tell your friends, and then maybe more cable cars and everything associated with them won't be built.

About 20 minutes after we reached the top, Hayashi-san found us and told us that Yasuo was struggling with the heat and the steepness of the paths and that he and the other guy would be a while getting up. He told us to go on to the next peak and then head down and that he, Yasuo and the other guy would take the cable car down and meet us at the onsen. At this I could feel Steel Cable Calves ears perk up. It was as if sitting and waiting was more trying for him than hauling ass up a mountain.

Steel Cable Calves descended the mountain like a mountain goat. He jumped from boulder to boulder and damn near ran on boulder-free parts of the trail. Aimee did a pretty good job keeping pace with him but I had no interest in doing so so I ambled along behind them. I saw some cool spiders and some really nice rapids that Steel Cable Calves and Aimee missed out on.

We got to the onsen about 10 minutes before the group coming down in the cable car so we went in without them. I didn't think I would be able to tell the difference between a real onsen and a man-made one but I could. It was strange. The water had too much of a processed smell to it. But, there was a cold bath and that more than made up for the onsen being fake. After loosening my muscles in the various hot baths the cold bath was very refreshing.

After cleaning ourselves up we enjoyed some beers in the lounge while we waited for the bus. Yasuo kept apologizing for not being able to make it to the top which made us feel worse for having suggested we hike up Gozaisho. We assured him that it didn't bother us at all and that we were very worried about him when Hayashi-san told us he was struggling to make it to the top. When we got home we got an email from Yasuo suggesting that our next outing be somewhere flat and we happily agreed. Maybe one of us will have to race Steel Cable Calves.

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Six

11 August 2010

When we woke up in the morning the only sign of the typhoon was our waterlogged hiking gear. The fly was soaked; our clothing was soaked; our boots were soaked. But we were only an hour's walk from an onsen (hot spring) so we were pretty happy.

I've talked about onsen experiences before so I won't go into too much detail. My favourite part isn't actually sitting in the onsen - it's washing myself before and afterward. I like the whole process of getting clean before getting into the onsen and then doing it again afterwards. It's more relaxing for me than lounging in the pools. Probably because I can't tolerate the heat of the pools for too long. The water that you wash yourself with is from the pools but you're not immersed in it so you don't notice how hot it actually is.

We spent about an hour in the onsen before heading to Takayama. We spent about 3 hours in Takayama eating and shopping for Aimee's sister (she bought her a nice ceramic mug). We ate, in no particular order: frozen pineapple slices, Hida beef stew, sukiyaki (a soup from which you take vegetables/meat and dip them into raw egg before you eat them), ice cream and Hida beef skewers. We were really excited to have some more owara tamaten but the vendor was closed.

The city was crawling with tourists and it was very hot so we didn't hang out much longer after we were full. On our way to the train station we did have to stop so I could get a picture of these:


They're ocarinas! You know, from Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time? I thought they were just something invented for the video game. Apparently they're Italian. They're also very, very expensive (which is why I'm not running around with one, stopping periodically to summon my horse. Anyone...?).

Final Thoughts on Hiking in Japan

We were both really impressed with the beauty of the North Japan Alps but we had a lot of mixed feelings about the trip. One thing that bothered us was the amount of people. The trails were crawling with people almost everywhere we went. Back home we never ran into people - ever. Most of the places we hiked back home weren't national parks though. They also weren't in a country with as many people as Japan has. And while the number of people did irritate us at times, it was great to see so many people outside enjoying the outdoors. Japan has incredible natural areas and while a lot of people use them, as a percentage of the population hikers aren't a large group. The only way parks like this will continue to be protected (and created) is if people use them. Which brings me to our next mixed feeling: the huts.

It was a lot easier to accept the large number of people than it was to accept all of the huts along the way. The huts ranged from nothing more than large one-room sleeping areas to all-inclusive resorts in Kamikochi. Neither of us felt they were necessary - especially the resorts. To build these places, maintain them, and keep them stocked requires a fleet of helicopters. And for what? So people can have a shower, drink cold beer or sake, watch television, and even use the internet. It's an incredible waste of energy and resources. However, these huts bring in different kinds of people (read: People. With. Money.) and if more people (With. Money.) come then these places, and others like them, continue to be created and preserved. And even though thousands of people pass through these parks every year and these extravagant and wasteful huts/resorts are built, the area is still very pristine. I don't think it's asking too much for people to hike the way we hike, but maybe I'm wrong.

Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Five

10 August 2010

Today was our longest day yet. We ascended from 2500m to 3060m and then descended to 1400m. By the end of the day we were tired, soar, hungry and soaking wet. But it was a lot of fun.

Because we knew the weather was going to be bad we were up by 5:00 and on the trail by 6:00. Four hours would get us to the fork where we would decide to head south if the weather was bad or push on east to Yarigatake if the weather was good. From 2500m where we camped up to 2800m (the first peak of the day) the weather was fantastic. We couldn't even see where the typhoon would be coming from. At this point we thought we might get lucky and it would miss us entirely. Whoops.

At the fork the weather was still good but we could see dark clouds chasing us from the west. We were still 4 hours from the peak of Yari but we figured that, worst case scenario, we'd be a few hours from the top before the edge of the storm descended on us. We decided to get to the top of Yari, take a quick break, and then hike down the mountain 2 hours to the next hut, since we didn't want to stay on top of Yari during the typhoon.

As expected, about an hour from the fork the mist that had slowly been creeping up on us from the west got tired of toying with us and turned into rain. This bullying also coincided with us running into Glen again. Until this point we had only ever seen him at the camps because he left so early. That morning he hadn't left till 5:00 and he wasn't surprised we caught up to him. We exchanged plans while putting on our rain gear - he was going to go to Yarigatake and stay there for the night, braving the typhoon.

The final ascent to the top of Yari was pretty grueling. It had stopped raining so we were able to take off our rain gear and air out, but that didn't make the monotonous switchbacks any easier. Everywhere the mountainside was the same - scree and mist, scree and mist. With the trail switching back every 10m it didn't feel like we were making any progress. When we looked back to see where we had came from we couldn't tell - for all we knew our starting point could have been 10m back or 1000m back. And then all of the sudden we were at the hut - 3060m.

The hut and the area outside it were very crowded. The rains returned in earnest immediately after we dropped our packs so everyone crammed together under the awnings. The foreigners were particularly popular here - all two of us. While putting on our rain gear for the descent to the next camp we were accosted by drunk, rich Japanese climbers. Drunk because they were drinking beer from the hut; rich because they could afford to. A beer at 3060m cost 1000￥ - and that's the cheap stuff. Foreigners are uncommon in Japan; to see them on hiking trails is rare. So we got the usual questions: where were we from, why were we here, what did we think of the mountains... We weren't feeling as accommodating as we usually do (these kinds of interrogations happen frequently and we're used to them) because we were in a hurry, so we played the foreigner ace card: "wakarimasen" ("I don't understand"). The questions quickly turned to "gambatte!" ("goodluck!") and we were on our way.

We decided against ascending to the peak (3180m) because of the weather. This was a little disappointing but we couldn't even see the top from where we were because of the clouds so we weren't missing much. As we were heading back to the trail to take us down the mountain we ran into Glen for the last time on the trip. He had ascended faster than we thought he would. I guess getting out of the rain was good motivation. We exchanged expletives about climbing up that "fucking" steep slope in the "fucking rain," shook hands and bid each other goodbye.

Thirty minutes into our descent the rain, which must not have felt that it was being paid much attention to, redoubled its efforts. Thunder lasting for what seemed like minutes echoed off the valley slopes; lightning lit up the underside of the clouds; and raindrops the size of pennies washed away the trail beneath our feet. This lasted all day and well into the night.

I make it sound a little bleak but it was actually kind of fun. Neither of us had been in a storm of that magnitude before; nor one whose power was so unrelenting for so long. It's one thing to be in a storm that powerful; it's quite another to witness one that sustains that power for 6 hours. I've never been in even a light storm that lasted for that long.


The above picture is of us exploring a cave about 1100m down from Yarigatake. A monk used to live there for half the year and would ascend Yarigatake... many times a year. I forget how many. He would spend his days chanting something about being in awe of the power of the gods. It was a 1 or 2 sentence chant that he would repeat all day, every day.

We made the next camp in two hours despite the rain. It was still pouring when we arrived though so we decided to push on another two hours to the next camp since we couldn't set up in the rain and we had no idea how long it would last. We had been to that camp during Golden Week and we knew it was only 3 hours from there to Kamikochi (and 2 hours from where we were) so it wouldn't be too much work. We got to see some interesting wildlife on this stretch.


We saw (and avoided stepping on) dozens of these giant toads all the way from the first camp we stopped at to the last camp. They were huge and came in different shapes and sizes. Some skinny, some fat; some brown, some yellow; some all warty, some very smooth; some old, some young; all huge. They were adept climbers. The rock this one is climbing was probably a meter high and it got right to the top. They weren't hard to miss because they a) were huge, and b) jumped like crazy when they felt us coming. We also saw a rabbit and some more grouse.

We made the next camp and it was still pouring rain so, yes, we decided to keep going. This time we decided to push straight through to Kamikochi... but we bit off more than we could chew. An hour away we were wiped out: hungry, sore, soaked. We collapsed under the awning of the closest hut, defeated.

Aimee dug the stove and dinner out of our packs while I endeared myself to the receptionist by dripping water all over the foyer of the expensive mountain hut while paying for our campsite. Then we further endeared ourselves by cooking our food on our rocket stove (it's loud) under the awning that was conveniently placed over the window of the expensive restaurant. Then we put on a show for the patrons - we set up our tent under the awning so we could walk the assembled tent out into the rain.

After staking the tent by myself we collapsed inside it and went to sleep. The wet grass gave us the most comfortable sleep of the trip. Our 13 hour day soaked us; tired us; took us from 2500m to 2800m to 2500m to 3060m to 1400m; and left us 1 hour from our final destination. It was a great day.

Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Six

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Four

9 August 2010

Today was the latest we slept in for the whole trip - 5:30. We were pretty slow about breaking camp too and didn't get on the trail till 7:00. But today's hike was pretty easy - an ascent to 2800m that would take 4 hours from camp and then a 3 hour descent into the valley and the next camp - so we weren't in a hurry.

By 9:00 we had our first negative interaction with water. Not the rain that would hound us for 6 hours on the next day. Not slipping into a creek and having wet feet. It was something much more sinister - a leaky water bottle.

Hiking up and down mountains produces a good amount of sweat, especially when the sun is beating down. So Aimee didn't give much thought to the water that was making her shirt cling to her like plastic wrap; nor did she give much thought to it while it slowly spread from her shirt down to her shorts. Only when we stopped for a water break and slung off our packs and she noticed the accumulation of water in the bottom of her pack did she - and I - finally give it some thought.

Aimee: I think my water bottle is leaking!

Mike: Shit.

Sure enough, the threads of Aimee's ancient water bottle had finally become so stripped that the lid wasn't sealing. Almost 1 litre of water had run from the top of her bag down to the bottom. Fortunately, her clothes were in a plastic bag, her sleeping bag was in a waterproof compression sack and the only food she had were granola bars (and her loving boyfriend was carrying the tent, his sleeping bag, most of the food and the stove). Luckily we had picked up a 500ml bottle of water from one of the huts since we knew we had a long and sweaty first half to hike today.

We had no further incidents between the mystery of Aimee's wet shorts and ascending to 2800m to eat lunch. Here we ate the last of our delicious walnut bread (it was sorely missed for the remainder of the trip) and complained about having to hike downhill once again. Downhill sucks. Uphill is hard and sweaty and tires out the muscles but extended downhill sections make me want to hurtle myself off the mountain.

We hung out in the valley below for a while because it was the best spot on the trip up to that point. There was a creek we could get water from, there were no people, there was lots of vegetation, there were no people, we watched the mist roll down into the valley from the peak we ate lunch on, and it was quiet because there were no people. And there was a cool boulder.


It was huge. That black speck on the top right corner of the left piece is someone's small backpack. A man had climbed up the back side and was enjoying some solitude. We wanted to do the same but we didn't want to disturb him. The boulder was split right through to the ground - as if Zeus had cleaved it in two with a lightning bolt. More likely it was split by the glacier that dropped it there but geology (geography? both?) just doesn't make for exciting narrative.

We made camp about 2 hours after leaving Zeus' boulder and ran into Glen again. Despite having been one of the first people to arrive at camp he had managed to secure the worst tent site. Draw a straight line. At the bottom of that line put a circle. The line is the path, the circle is the boulder. Glen pitched his tent to the left of the circle, thinking people would take the right hand side around the rock. But that side was more precarious so everyone opted to take the 1 meter path between his tent's door and the rock.

We talked with Glen about hiking, growing organic foods, the problems with the 9-5 lifestyle and all the other problems in the world. He's a very interesting man. He also told us about the 50 acre plot of land he and his wife have on an island in Australia. They're planning to start a farm and possibly host international students. It sounded like an interesting lifestyle. More importantly, he told us about the typhoon that was building to the west of us.

By the middle of the next day the area we were planning on hiking to (Yarigatake) would start to get torrential rains followed by a typhoon. This would be problematic for us since Yarigatake was the jewel of our trip. But there would be no point in summitting it if we did so during a torrential downpour. The split boulder had shown us the awesome power of Zeus' lightning (or, if your inner child is dead and you have no imagination, the awesome power of glaciers moving a centimeter a year) and we had no desire to see what he could do with a storm (or, what would happen when a low-pressure system met with rising warm air). So we plotted an escape route to the south in case, when we reached the fork that would take us east to Yarigatake or south to safety the following morning, the weather was bad. And then we slept.

Day One
Day Two
Day Three
Day Five
Day Six

Utsumi Beach

Aimee and I went to the beach for the first time yesterday so I thought I'd take a break from the hiking updates to talk about our first beach experience.

Highlights:

• we burned the bottom of our feet
• we swam in the ocean for the first time
• we ate gross hamburgers
• we saw our first bare Japanese breast

Beaches in Canada have nice, warm sand that feels good to walk on. When you finally arrive at the beach, kicking your shoes off to walk in the sand is part of the beach-going experience. Not in Japan. The sand burns here. We kicked off our shoes and walked no more than 10 steps before screaming like little girls and promptly putting our sand-covered feet back in our shoes. It was awful. I thought that digging down into the sand might offer some reprieve from the heat but it's just as hot 6cm down as it is on the surface. It was ridiculous. I guess that's why everyone had rented umbrellas from the man in the parking lot.

After setting up as close to the water as possible we kicked off our shoes again and ran into the water. You know how back home it's little kids who run as fast as they can into the water and then fall over? At this beach that was what everyone did. No one was walking casually into the water. They were running [and shouting "atsui, atsui!" (atsui means hot) if their location happened to be far from the water] as fast as they could. Surprisingly it wasn't from running and popping out of her bikini that we saw our first Japanese girl's breast (and unfortunately for you that last sentence wasn't a transition sentence for the next paragraph).

We made it into the water without burning our feet and got to enjoy our first experience swimming in the ocean. Not just in Japan - anywhere. When we lived in Victoria the ocean was always too cold to swim in. I tried a few times to swim to an island in the summer but there were too many boats going through the channel and I feared I would be run over. However, I only had to fear being swam over by one of the numerous people who were in the water yesterday. It actually wasn't as busy as I thought it would be. There were lots of people but it was no more busy than Sauble Beach during the summer.

Swimming in the ocean was a lot of fun. Even though I knew it wouldn't hurt I was still surprised that salt water didn't sting my eyes when I opened them underwater. It stung Aimee's eyes though because she wears contacts and the water gets trapped behind the lense. The only downside to swimming in the ocean was the film of salt leftover after you dry out. Oh, and being incredibly thirsty when you get out of the water.

After our first swim we got something to eat. We were craving hamburgers and there just happened to be a hamburger shop on the strip. Unfortunately they were Japanese-style hamburgers, which means they were loaded with a ketchup/tomato sauce/salsa topping. It's not good on hamburgers and almost all hamburgers in Japan are made with this sauce on them. The exceptions we've found are a 50s diner near our place and McDonald's. I haven't yet been desperate enough for a hamburger to go to McDonald's.

We washed down our hamburgers with some ice cream and then went back into the water and, yes, saw our first bare Japanese breast.

Swimming ahead of us was a man pushing his girlfriend in a floating chair thingy. She was tanning and giggling, like girls do at the beach. The following quick conversation ensued:

Aimee: Japanese girls have no role here other than to dress prettily and giggle.

Mike: How is that stereotype any different than the stereotype of North American girls at the beach?

So we were swimming behind this guy pushing his girlfriend in her chair thingy. He kept trying to do something to her (poke her, touch her - I'm not sure) and she kept giggling like girls do when they're acting like what you're doing is something they don't want you to do. You know what I'm talking about. You have your arm around your girlfriend and then you casually slide your hand down to her bum and she giggles and slaps your hand away because that's what propriety demands. But she's not upset and you know that because of the giggle. This is what that girl was doing. And this is what she continued to do when he reached up and pulled her bikini down, exposing her breast.

Aimee and I found the whole episode incredibly funny. We are in Japan but the exact same things happen here that happen at home. I've seen this exact scene play out at every beach I've been to. This girl pretended to be angry and put on that pout face that girls have - you know the one - when they're trying to act indignant. But based on her reaction we figured she kind of enjoyed it. That and she didn't kick the shit out of him. Because I've seen this scene play out like that before, too. The guy pulls down a girl's bikini and she goes ballistic - rightfully so: don't take my amusement at this particular situation as condoning the behaviour - and beats him senseless. That is infinitely more amusing to me than seeing an exposed breast.

We enjoyed our first beach experience, but only because of the swimming. It was far too hot to do anything other than swim. We brought towels and books to lay on the beach and read but any part of our bodies that wasn't in the water immediately started to sweat. So the only thing you could comfortably do was swim.

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Three

8 August 2010

The morning of the third day was the most beautiful. Not too clouded over, not raining, not cold - beautiful.

We ate breakfast and packed up in an hour and were on the trail by 6:00. The first four hours of the hike were great - a nice breeze and not too much change in elevation. It took an hour to climb to the second highest peak of the day (2616m) and another hour from there to a peak at 2591m. From there we could see the hut we'd be eating lunch at. It was around 2 kilometers away but we had to drop down to 2000m and then back up to 2300m to get there.

It was a little tiring to trudge down 500m and then back up 300m but we did it in about 2 hours and were only a little hungry and sweaty when we arrived at the camp. Lunch was excellent. We brought salami and Gouda cheese to eat with walnut bread - a delicious combination at home and downright kingly while hiking.


The above picture is at the 2591m mark from where we could see the hut we would eat lunch at.

As we were packing up to head back out Al and Holly came up the trail looking pretty wiped out. As I told you in the last post this was the last time we saw them. They were taking the same route to Kamikochi we were but they likely changed their minds and went a different way. If this were a novel I would tell you that after beginning our descent of the 2926m peak at the end of today's hike we heard the agonizing screams of a man and a woman tumbling down the mountain, followed by the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of a helicopter coming to rescue the poor souls/collect the bodies. But it's not. As I said they likely changed their minds and went a different way. They had mentioned they might do that exact thing when we first met them. [Brief aside: it costs 3,000,000￥ ($30,000) to be taken off the trail/mountain/rock you're impaled on by helicopter, so be careful.]

After lunch our day got pretty tiring. The ascent to 2926m was long and tiring. We only had to gain 600m but there was a lot of up-down to gain those 600m. We got cranky at different times for different reasons. Me: Hungry and sweaty. Aimee: Sore and tired. It took us about 2.5 hours to get to the top.


There are 5 symbols on the bottom of that post:

• 二 = 2
  
• 九 = 9
  
• 二 = 2
  
• 六 = 6
  
• m = m

This was the highest point of our day. From here we could see another expensive hut and the campsite beyond it that we would be staying at. We took some time to rest and eat and then started on our way again. Even though the hut and the general area of the campsite looked close, we still had 3-4 kilometers to go.

It ended up taking 2.5 hours to get from the peak to the campsite. At least a kilometer of the walk were switchbacks down the mountain to the hut. The slope on the descent side was pretty steep and covered in scree so it was a pain in the ass to descend. About halfway down we started to get passed by endurance runners. Where they came from and where they were going we had no idea. I was impressed enough that someone would run up just the one peak we had just ascended, but we got passed by some more the following day about 10 kilometers from where we first got passed.

We eventually made it to the hut and shortly after it we entered a dry creek bed to complete our descent to the campsite. If this sounds cool it was. At first. The creek bed was pretty easy to navigate at the top but further down the rocks turned into boulders and it became an arduous descent. What was really frustrating was that the people who had built the wooden bridges and walkways we had crossed at earlier spots during our trip were now sending people through a dry creek bed. Aimee and I both thought that the wooden walkways through grasslands were ridiculous and unnecessary, but if they were going to be built then someone should have had the sense to build them around boulder-strewn creek beds instead of across soft, lush grass.

The dry creek bed finally became a wet creek bed and at this point we had made the camp. And we immediately ran into our next foreigner - Glen.

Glen is a 40 year old Australian teaching English in Korea and was vacationing in Japan for a month. He had been all over the South Japan Alps and had hiked a little in Hokkaido (the large island north of Japan). He was a pretty interesting guy and also quite nice. He pointed us to the best campsite in the area. It was up a short path and overlooked the rest of the large campsite. He had already set up his tent before finding it and he didn't want to move. We were quite happy that he told us about it since the campsite was packed. For some reason camping damn near on top of each other doesn't seem to bother most Japanese. In North America most people seek out campsites as far away from others as possible; in Japan most people try to camp as close together as possible. It's really quite strange but it meant that the best spot in the area was open for us.

Glen also mentioned an area of the creek where we could bathe. He had found a way down to the creek and found a pool formed by a small waterfall that was hidden from the path so bathing without being seen was possible. We were elated at this news since we didn't think we'd be able to bathe until we got to Kamikochi, which was still 3 days from where we were. We thanked him again and, like Al and Holly, would only see him one more time...

I'm kidding. We saw him a few more times on the trip. But in the novel he'd either kill us in our sleep at the secluded campsite he conveniently found or slit our throats while we bathed.

After dinner we bathed, brushed our teeth and went to bed clean for the first time in 3 days. It was fantastic.

Day One
Day Two
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day Two

7 August 2010

We were in bed by about 8:00 the night before but at around 2:00am I woke up to the sounds of tent flies being flapped in the air and blue and orange flashes of light in every direction. It had been raining so in my haze I thought maybe the multicoloured lights were lightning and the flapping sounds were the flies blowing in the wind. Turns out the flapping sounds were the flies being shaken in the air to remove rain water and the lights were from the numerous stoves being lit to make early, early, early morning tea.

Finally realizing that these people were getting up to watch the sun rise over the mountains, and not being concerned with seeing that ourselves, we went back to sleep. We woke up again at 5:00 and decided to catch up to the early birds. When we drew back the flaps of the tent we saw that nearly half of the tents that were there the night before were gone. The mountain was going to be crawling with people.


The people you see above were a group of high school students we passed on our way to the top of Tateyama. There was a group about two times the size of this one that we got on the trail ahead of by about 5 minutes when we left in the morning. There were also numerous groups of elderly people that numbered from 10 people to 30 people. It was crazy.

We made it to the top in good time since most of the sunrise viewers were back down from the peak. Unfortunately it was quite cloudy when we reached the top so the view wasn't great.


Up to this point 3003m was the highest I had ever climbed. I was pretty pleased to have climbed that high, but it was easy in comparison to the climb to the top of Yarigatake. We only had to ascend 600m to get to the top of Tateyama. In 3 days we would have to ascend 1100m to reach the top of Yarigatake, and at a much steeper pitch.

It only took two hours to ascend and then descend Tateyama and get back on the trail, and we only had 4 hours to go from the base of Tateyama to our next camp, so the second day of our trip was pretty easy. There was a lot of アプダウン though according to the sign we saw shortly past the base of Tateyama. Pronounced a-pu-da-oo-n, it took me a few minutes to figure out that it meant "up-down." The sign was a caution that the next several kilometers of the trail were up-down sections. I would have rather not known that from where we were to camp was a lot of up-down since I hate going down hill. But it only took 4 hours to complete and we got to camp early in the afternoon so we had time to relax and talk to the only other foreigners in the camp.

We saw Al and Holly when we went to fill our water bottles at the camp. We stared at them for a while and they stared at us for a while because it's uncommon enough to see other foreigners in large cities here; it's downright rare to see other foreigners on hiking trails. After setting up our tent we went over to introduce ourselves.

Al and Holly are British lawyers working in Tokyo. Al had been in Japan for 5 months and Holly for one. Apparently she drags him on these kinds of expeditions regularly - they've been hiking in the Himalayas and all over Northern Great Britain. They had been hanging out at camp since 11:15. They had taken a night bus from Tokyo and got into the camp we were sleeping in around 5:00am. They skipped climbing Tateyama because it was a "Crocodile line from the bottom to the top," according to Holly (I don't know what a crocodile line is but I understood what she meant), so they only had the 4ish hour hike to do.

We talked about life as foreigners in Japan, which is a topic that can never really be exhausted. Everyone has stories that are interesting to even the most seasoned foreigner living here. Holly is a vegetarian and she told us about how the Japanese don't consider chicken to be meat. We knew this already from experiences our friend Grace has had but it's still funny to hear about. A lot of the time if you ask a waiter "Does this have meat in it?" they'll say "No, just vegetables and chicken." Apparently Holly has this problem frequently and with varying degrees of derision towards her by the waiters when she tells them she doesn't eat any meat - even chicken.

We haven't been able to figure out why chicken isn't considered meat. It's possible that chicken is classified as a non-meat for Japanese vegetarians the same way fish is classified as a non-meat for some Western vegetarians. Another mystery I'll have to solve before we leave.

We talked for about an hour before heading off to make dinner and relax for the afternoon. This would be the only day of the trip where we'd have much spare time, since the remaining days would be more difficult in terms of terrain that would be covered, distance covered, and time spent hiking. Al and Holly were following the same route we were so we agreed to meet up at the next camp but we only ended up seeing them one more time - at the half-way point the following day.

Day One
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six

Tateyama to Kamikochi - Day One

From 6 to 11 August, Aimee and I hiked from Tateyama in Toyama to Kamikochi near Takayama City. It was a 65km hike which included summitting three 3000m+ peaks. The peak you see in the distance was the highest peak we summitted - Yarigatake. "Yari" is Japanese for spear - the mountain is so named because it looks like a spear is being thrust into the sky.

The peak of Yarigatake is 3180m, but we only made it to the campsite/expensive mountain hut at 3060m. The clouds you see to the left of the peak in the picture were the finger tips of a typhoon. Eventually the white fingers closed into a black fist that hammered the peak and the surrounding area for more than 6 hours. The initial blow came about 20 minutes after we began our descent. But more on that in the day 4 post.

6 August 2010

We caught a train at 7:50am bound for Toyama. Toyama is a city on the west side of Honshu (the main island of Japan) on the Japan Sea. We didn't see much of the city until the 4th day when we were high enough to look back on it. After arriving in Toyama we immediately took a one hour local train to the base of Tateyama. From there we took a 10 minute cable car ride to a bus station and from the bus station a one hour ride to Murodo. Murodo is at ~2400m and is the base camp for about a dozen different North Japan Alps climbing and hiking routes. The place was packed with people.

It's hard to see in the picture but there are close to 100 tents crammed together down there. Some of them looked like they would sleep 20 people. These belonged to base campers - people who stayed at Murodo and did day trips up the various peaks surrounding Murodo. They had every luxury you'd expect to have at home - except for a television. A lot of the base campers were parents with children or high school groups who were probably just there to climb to the summit of Tateyama. Tateyama is popular because it is one of Japan's Three Holy Mountains (Mount Fuji and Mount Haku are the other two).

After setting up our meager (by comparison) tent we set off to explore the sulfur fields. Murodo is situated near an active volcano which releases sulfuric gas into the air. In order to make it very clear where you are and what you're climbing, the volcano is also called Tateyama.

The sulfur fields were cool. They stank. But they were cool nonetheless. There was all kinds of gas being released everywhere. More irritating than the rotten egg smell was the recording that kept playing in Japanese, Chinese and English warning us to stay on the path and not to venture into the sulfur fields. In any other country there would just be a simple sign telling people not to be fucking stupid (at least if I was in charge of making those kinds of signs that's what they'd say) since it's pretty obvious that you shouldn't run through a jet of steam that was heated by a volcano. But in Japan there's a recording that plays all day (7:00am to 7:00pm). However, there's only a sign (and only at the end of the trail, not the beginning!) to explain that should the air raid sirens situated throughout the area go off it's because the poisonous gas has reached a lethal level and you should promptly evacuate the area. But don't run.

It was also interesting how the steam was released. There were tiny puddles on the path that bubbled slightly and there were giant ponds that erupted 1.5 meters into the air. What we found most interesting was that some of the pools were quite hot while others were quite cool. This was because the fissures in the ground were only releasing steam, not water. If the gas was released into a pool of standing water it became quite hot; if it was released into moving water it stayed quite cool.

We returned to camp to have dinner and sleep early since we wanted to get ahead of the hoards of people the following morning. Turns out half the people in camp got up at 2:00am to get to the top of Tateyama to watch the sun rise so it didn't matter that we went to bed early. But more on that in the day 2 post.

Day Two
Day Three
Day Four
Day Five
Day Six

World Cosplay Summit

The picture to the left was taken this past Sunday at the World Cosplay Summit, which was conveniently held 10 minutes from our apartment. The character you are looking at is Porco Rosso, who is from one of Hayao Miyazaki's oddest films: Porco Rosso.

Cosplay is a compound noun formed from "costume" and "roleplay." In Japanese it is pronounced "ko-su-pu-re." People (mostly young) dress up as characters from manga, video games, fantasy novels and movies, anime, and hentai. It is quite an odd event but it's also a lot of fun if you're open minded. The people get really into it and put on quite a good show.

There were a few Final Fantasy characters - mostly Cloud and Sephiroth - and a lot of Zelda characters. Most of the Links I saw were women and they were as attractive as you'd imagine they would be. Unfortunately I didn't get a picture. My friend did get an awesome picture of Ganon though:


He looked even better in full costume. At this point he was walking to the stage where the performances took place. You didn't think people from eight different countries just came to dress up, did you?

Each country put on a ~5 minute skit that was typically a popular scene associated with their characters. We saw four of them but not the one I really wanted to see: Cloud vs. Emerald Weapon. Don't bother clicking the link if you didn't play the game - you won't like it. Their costumes were both excellent, but I only got a shot of Cloud:

The best performance we saw was put on by the Korean team. Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of them because we didn't see them before the skits started and we were too far away to get decent pictures of them when they took the stage. One of them was dressed as a giant robot and the other was dressed as a samurai warrior. The samurai would jump off the robot doing these aerial kicks or he would run up him and flip off him like you see martial artists run up walls and flip off them. The choreography was really well done for an amateur exhibition.

This event was probably the most quintessentially modern Japanese thing we've seen so far. We've seen the traditional things you think of when you think of Japan (castles, temples, kimono) but this was something entirely different. Even though it's relatively new (the Summit has only been held since 2003) there was still the same sense of propriety and custom you feel at a traditional Japanese event. You weren't allowed to take pictures at random - you had to ask permission and then thank the person or people for allowing you to take a photograph. This stems from the initial practice of photographers photographing reiya (people who dress up) and then giving them copies of the pictures as gifts. There was also a level of seriousness from the reiya that I didn't expect. They would get in character when they had their photos taken and then they would be all smiles and happy afterward. It was really interesting to watch the transformation.

I can definitely see the appeal of being able to transform yourself into a character from your favourite entertainment medium but I don't think it's for me. I do enjoy dressing up for Hallowe'en but I don't think I'd like to do anything more than enter a best dressed competition.

Weird Day at the Pool

It was an uncomfortable 40 degrees on Sunday so we went to the pool with a few friends to cool off. Or had intended to cool off.

The pool was only 1 meter deep so it was a little less lame than being in a wading pool. It wouldn't have been too bad if it were cold, but since Nagoya has been so hot for 5 weeks the water was lukewarm. It was like sitting in a luke warm bath. It would have been an entirely worthless experience had we not been with friends with whom we could complain about the warm water.

After soaking in the giant bathtub we got out to lay on the side of the pool to read/tan/talk. About ten minutes later a bell rang and everyone got out of the pool. Some men got up to stretch so we figured that the bell ended the child swim and started the adult swim. But this guy was just prepping for the stretching routine that everyone was about to do.

Some weird music started playing and then everyone stood up and started stretching in sync. From the 4 year olds up to the 80 year olds everyone knew what actions to do and when. It was eerie how coordinated everyone was. The 5 of us sat in awe, no doubt making fools of ourselves by starting at everyone - but we couldn't look away.

This is the stretch routine they were doing if you want to check it out. Having seen the whole thing in person I didn't watch the entire video since nothing compares to watching it live.

"My name is Dragon!"

Sometimes Japanese people take English names to use at the schools we work at because it's easier for the Native teachers to pronounce them than to pronounce Japanese names. I think this is ridiculous - your name is your name and you shouldn't change it because some people who come to your country to work have a hard time pronouncing it. But this is a choice a grown person makes so I've never said anything to anyone other than Aimee.

This past weekend I worked at a kids summer party at one of my schools. Basically my job was to play games with each of the groups of 20 or so kids who rotated around the different game centres in the building. The last group of the day was the largest and also the most disturbing. My conversation with the first kid who came in illustrates this:

Mike: "Hello! What's your name?"
Kid: "My name is Dragon!"

At first I thought this was cute. The kid wanted to be a dragon so he called himself Dragon. I asked the next kid:

Mike: "What's your name?"
Kid: "My name is Bear."

Ok, maybe this kid likes bears? At this point most of the kids had come into the room and I started looking at their "My name is ____" name tags and was thoroughly disturbed. Here are some of the highlights:

• A group of 5 or 6 boys came in and they were all named after colours. I had a Blue, Green, Red, Yellow and Orange.
• Dispersed throughout the group were common animals. I had a Dog, Cat, Mouse, Snake and Bear.
• The worst was the group of girls named Chocolate, Cinnamon and Candy. They had no idea that if they lived in North America they would be destined to become strippers.

Wanting your kids to learn another language is a good thing. Languages are useful and anyone who can speak more than one language has a huge leg-up in life - especially if that language is English. However, it is ridiculous to go so far as to give your children English names thinking that this helps the process. It is especially ridiculous when those names aren't even names! If the group were any larger they would have had to start giving the kids numbers as names.

Maybe I'm making a light situation into something it's not but wouldn't renaming your child make them feel like their real name isn't good enough or is worthless in another country? When I was learning Japanese at university my Japanese friends gave me a Japanese name (it's Masato and it means "elegant and graceful person," which I am). They would call me Masato when they helped me with my Japanese or when I helped them with their English but I never thought about changing my name. My name is part of my identity.

I don't think that changing part of a child's identity is a good thing. If I were one of those children I immediately would have questioned why I needed to have an English name just to go to an English party. Children are already easily confused as it is. Why would a parent willingly add to that confusion?

The Japanese Shaved My Earlobes

I had my first straight-razor shave this week and it was quite an experience. I went to my usual barber and got my usual haircut. The last time I was there he asked if I wanted a shave but I declined citing a lack of cash (even though Japan is a cash-based society I carry little cash). I told him I would try one next time though because I had not had a straight-razor shave before.

So, it's 6 weeks later and I'm laying back in my chair with my beard lathered. And my... forehead lathered? This is kind of odd, I thought to myself. I didn't think the fine blonde hairs on my forehead warranted much attention but the barber was the one with the razor so I kept my mouth shut. I also thought that if I tried to speak my forehead would krinkle and I would have part of it sliced into. He must have also thought I was developing hairy ears since, after leaving my forehead smooth and unscathed, he immediately shaved my earlobes and the outside of my ears.

Throughout the whole experience I never once thought about asking for an explanation or asking him to stop. Remember, I'm the guy who let Japanese men feel him up so getting a shave is a walk in the park. I thought the forehead shaving was a little odd but having my earlobes and outer ear shaved actually felt kind of cool. You know that feeling you get when someone kisses your ears? The "this is cool but it wouldn't be cool if they stuck their tongue in my ear" feeling? Having your ears shaved is kind of similar. It's cool unless the barber slips and lops a chunk of your ear off.

While I was impressed with the thoroughness of the shave, it was less smooth than I thought it would be. I think the barber thought so too - when he finished he stood up, wiped his brow and said "Muzukashii," which means difficult. I guess he wasn't used to shaving thick North American beards.

No shirt, no shoes... get arrested?

In one of my kids classes a couple of weeks ago my kids asked me what I wore in Canada (they only ever see me in suit pants, a collared shirt and a tie). I told them that in the summer I wear shorts and a t-shirt, but if it's hot I just wear shorts. They lost their minds. They told me that kind of thing would get you thrown in jail here. I assumed they thought I meant I go to restaurants and stores without a shirt and just laughed their comments off as a lost in translation kind of thing.

A few days later Aimee and I were stretching after one of our runs in the park I took my shirt off to cool down and went about my stretching. This caused some curious and outright scandalized stares from passers- and runners-by. Thinking there may actually be something to this topless nonsense my kids were talking about, and not wanting to further scandalize anyone, I put my sweaty shirt back on.

The next day I asked one of my near-fluent adult students what the big deal was with taking my shirt off. He smiled and told me that if a policeman had seen me he would have come over and told me to put my shirt back on. I thought he was kidding but he assured me that it was illegal for men to walk around without a shirt on. I was stunned.

Let me tell you about some of the things I've seen in Japan that are far more scandalous than me running with my shirt off:

• a homeless man at the train station masturbating while staring at one of my American friends (I didn't actually see this but it came up one night while a bunch of us were out. I found this absolutely hilarious and chastised her relentlessly for not taking a photo of the guy. Brief aside: the situation reminded me of that episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia where the homeless guy masturbating in the alley stares at Dee.)
  
• more skirts-that-are-short-enough-to-be-panties than you'd see at a Victoria's Secret runway show
• Japanese men looking at magazine porn while riding the subway
• Japanese men looking at manga porn while riding the subway
• Japanese men looking at internet porn on their phones while riding the subway
• Japanese men looking at porn videos on their iPods while riding the subway
  

I run three times a week in 35+ degree weather with a humidity level that is as close to 100% as is possible before it starts to rain. I don't want to masturbate at the train station. I don't want to wear a really short skirt. I don't want to look at any kind of porn on the subway. I want to run with my shirt off!