Piczo

I'm Back

I have always hated cold weather. Actually the isn't true, I'm a skiier, after all. What I do hate, though is Japanese cold weather. Friends of mine who had lived in Before coming to Japan, I had been warned about the winter, so I had a few reservations, but by November and even into December things didn't look too bad. I was cold, but I was trying my very hardest to deal with everything Japan threw at me. Plus I felt that if my schoolmates could do it, then surely I could survive a little cold weather. But all of my Gaijin friends warned me it would happen. It always does, even to those who don't think it will. I would begin to doubt myself and start to dislike my life here. I didn't pay a lot of attention, partly because I was afraid that their warnings would manifest if I thought about them too much, and partly because, well, I didn't believe that I could ever really dislike Japan. My first 4 months were absolutely amazing! Besides, I was keeping my chin up, and could deal with strict uniform rules that prohibited jackets and other warm clothes, so no worries, right? But then it all hit at once: In early January solitude turned to loneliness, I got really sick, my host family situation had become really difficult and found me not wanting to integrate into Japanese family life, it was COLD, I began to feel as though being an exchange student was not relevant to anything or anyone. All in all, January turned into a miserable month for me. I found myself daydreaming of life in the U.S. and beginning to hate all things Japanese. That's not to say I was homesick at all. It was more of a "I'm really burned out from all of this," kind of thing. Small flashes of happiness would catch me off guard. An incredible new running route through the mountains and rice fields, Sunday mornings falling in and out of sleep as the sun poured in my room, finding M and M's at the local convenience store, receiving amazing emails full of love and support from family and friends, and having a entire class of Chugakkou Ichinensee kids try to speak with me in English. For a while I tried to brush off these highlight moments, forgetting the feeling of being happy. But eventually I gave in and began to appreciate the little things as they accumulated and by mid-February, upon moving to a new family, the coldness began to turn to warmth, I was back to being in love with Japan. And as I'm sitting here in March typing this, I can honestly admit to it: I'm Back. From what I know of living in foreign countries and the process of adjustment, this experience of homesickness and frustration can be expected. Letting go of the idea that I could push through everything was also probably a good way to evaluate my time here, and put some extra thought into why I came and what I want to learn from the experience of being here. I would not go as far as to say that I am never doubt myself for being here. I do occasionally have those moments when I'm questioning my sanity and doubting everything I am doing. But in the end I have learned that these certain feelings of not believing in yourself and uncertainty are also a part of the package of living abroad.

Evolution of My Eating Habits

Picture it: A cold February night in 2006 at a Japanese restaurant in North New Jersey, USA. The protagonist is a 15 year-old beyond clueless outbound exchange student that is aware she will be spending 1 whole year in Japan. THe antagonist of the story is a tiny piece of raw fish surrounded by vinegared rice, and wrapped in a piece of seaweed, and furthur drowned in a plate of soy sauce. The antagonist is also part of dinner to a minor character of the story, a Japanese exchange student who wants the protagonist to try some of the food she will be eating next year. The clueless Outbound has always been one to try everything, so she greatfully accepts the Sushi. But as she places it in her mouth, a horrible sensation occurs. She now suddenly realizes what it is like to die and slow and painful death, actually, that might be easier than eating the raw fish. The other characters nearly wet themselved as they watch the protagonist choke and beg for mercy. She does, however, eventually swallow the Sushi, but vows to never let the occurence happen again. A year later, that very same raw fish and vinegared rice, wrapped in seaweed and spurged with Soy Sauce is the one of the main characters favorite Japanese foods. What prompted me to write down the story of my evolution throught eating habits was particular occurence one afternoon at lunchtime. Everyday I, like the rest of my fellow classmates, has a Bento box for lunch that is filled with tasty samplings of Japanese food. The main selection is always a small portion of rice covered in a certain topping. The toppings can range from fish eyes to tea leaves. One of my favorites is this long stalk on brown weed type thing that would cause any Gaijin to have certain suspicions. In the 7 months I have been here, I have never bothered to ask what it is because of philopsophy on Japanese food, which is 'Ignorance is Bliss.' Because seriously, if I actually asked the origins of half the stuff I ate, I would have probably be on the first flight home. But, alas, I have become so Japanese that seasoned fish brain gives me shutters. So I found myself, one afternoon asking my lunch group, what the brown weed substance was. They conformed my suspicions, I had been ignorantly munching on Kelp, a type of seaweed. I couldn't remember were I had heard of Kelp before, until I remembered a computer game I played when I was really young. The game was for little kids to help Freddy the talking Goldfish rescue the Kelp or all the other fish would croak from starvation. I am, in fact, eating fish food. But the worst part is that that simple fact doesn't even bother me. When I first landed in Japan, I immediatly made it clear that I would not eat fish raw. And would follow my rule, "If it came from the sea, it's probably NOT for me!" I was all gung-ho and ready to resist the taste of raw fish, with preplanned methods of polite ways to say, "No thank you!" That lasted about one week. For one, I came to the important realization that it would be just that much easier for my host family to host me if I at least tried everything. I didn't have to like it, but trying it shows that I'm willing to be here. And I did try everything. All the raw fish that was put in front of me ended up in my stomach. And I discovered that once one can get over the whole, 'wow this thing was swimming not too long ago and although it's ice cold, it might not actually be dead,' one will have a much more enjoyable time. And very possibly pick up a new favorite food. Seaweed was a bit more difficult to get over. My first experience with Seaweed was in 2nd grade when my class went to an Asian food market. Back than I was really really picky, and refused to even consider the green crap that was covering my lunch of rice. We met again at various occasions in the first few months of my exchange. I never once made an attempt to eat it, until October and my school excursion to Hokkaido. We made it to the hotel a little late and missed dinner, so instead we were given Rice balls wrapped in Nori seaweed. I was so hungry that I took an enormous bite and halfway through the bite I realized the sudden urge to vomit. And vomit, I certainly did. But one day, upon tempting fate yet again, Nori suddenly became delicious. I can't explain how it happened, except that I probably threw up the taste buds that detested Nori. Sorry for those gruesome details. There are more things that I find myself eating and realizing that if I were eating this in America, people would be horrified. Sometimes at dinner if I'm not in the mood for regular rice, I crack open a raw egg and mix it with the rice. People at home would immediately think, "Oh god! Sal Monella!" But hey, it's delicious! But what about my 3rd favorite food, Takoyaki? Tako in Japanese means Octopus. And Octopus is quite tasty. In my host prefecture of Kochi, the people eat alot of 'mountain vegetables.' These vegtables are quite interesting. Some are green, blue, brown, emitting curious odors, and have possible IQ's. Basically, you name it and I'm sure that Kochi has a vegetable for it. If not, they'll probably go into the moutains and find one one that matches the description. I'd name of these 'weeds' but I'm pretty sure they don't have names in the English language. Most likely because no one from an English speaking country would eat half the vegetables. My eating habits have evolved greatly, but there are some things I really just can't eat and adapt to. Ikura are these little orange balls that have a sweet taste to them. They are fish eggs, that are just too foul for the right words. There is also Nato, which is fermented beans. Just take at a look at the word ferment and tell me that doesn't sound disgusting. Umaiboshi is this little questionable brown things that tastes sour and along with Tsukemono pickles, makes me want to cut off all my taste buds. Mochi doesn't actually taste bad, but I have a bit of a texture issue. Eating Mochi is kind of like chewing on Goodyear tire. I used to have this motto, "If it tastes good, don't ask what it is!" It worked pretty well. I suddenly found myself eating everything that was put in front of me. Stuff I later found out might have been alive while it was digesting in my stomach or possibly at some point highly poisonous to anything that tried to eat it. If I liked the food item and I wanted to continue eating it without praying I didn't get killed in the process, I never questioned it. I was gaining confidence that everything I tried I would like, which is not always the case. At one particular Rotary meeting, in which there was a important person speaking and we teenagers were asked to be on our very best behavior, I noticed a pink petal looking object waiting to be eaten on my plate. It actually looked quite safe compared to what I was normally trying without question. I popped the entire pile into my mouth. Then, well... I can't say I remember what happened after that. From what I have been able to piece together, I began clutching my throat, coughing as if I was trying to get rid of a lung, grasping for a mug of water, losing the ability to breath as my cheeks turned pink, and my eyes seared open to an alarming size. It also wasn't a quiet incident, either. I guess when the entire room is full of quiet people intent on listening to a famous person, the sudden choking madness of 15 year old gaijin is a bit hard to ignore. The 2 former exchange students jumped to action. They grabbed my arms and hauled me to the bathroom, where they smacked my back a couple times until I spit out the Pink Petaly food, which flew across the bathroom. After I drank about 3 galleons of water trying to wash the taste of my mouth, I returned to the Rotary meeting as quietly as possible. The former exchange students, who nearly wet themselves upon hearing what had caused the suddent choking, loudly explained that I had stupidly eaten the pink petal thing in one bite. And suddenly, every Rotarian was in a fit of laughter, louder than even though guest speaker. When someone explained to him what had happened, he too, snorted at the incident. To this day, I never figured out what the substance was. But it failed in getting me to be more cautious when eating curious looking food. My new reformed philosophy on eating has changed drastically into, "Ask what it is so you can tell everyone your favorite side dish is [Octopus tentacle]!" Sometimes I encounter a food that just reeks of putridness. I always try to eat it 3 times before I make a real decision about it. (Except for Ikura, I've only eaten it twice and both times have made me consider jumping off a bridge.) The thing about traveling and being in different places, sampling different foods of cultures and people, has made me become one of those crazy loons who eats EVERYTHING. Foods from different lands give one more of an understanding of the people in that culture. When I journeyed to Australia, I sampled Crocodile, Cow Testicles, Chicken Salt on Fries, Green Ants, and Vegemite. Here in Japan, well, I couldn't even begin to go into all of the funky stuff I've been given the opportunity to eat. To name a select few, which aren't that gross, but still not exactly 'sane' foods, Squid Ink Pasta, Green Tea and Tuna Ice Cream, Fish Brains, Deep Fried Eel, Bamboo shoots, and Bonita eye shavings. I better leave it at that. Now, I'll let you sit and ponder what the heck a Bonita eye shaving is. You probably don't want to know. Food is food, no matter where you go. I hear people talk about the lack of humanity in eating Dog and Cat in China, Whale, here in Japan, grilled maggots, worms, beetles, or cockroaches in Thailand. But think about it. It all comes down to where we were born and how we were raised that determines what we can eat and what we think is purely and utterly ridiculus. Japanese people get offended when I put Soy Sauce on rice, or when I talk about my favorite food being the meat from the ribs of a Cow. Nothing's wrong with that. It's just the way we are as people rasied in entirely different cultures. Food is food, no matter where you end up. It could be a safe as a slice of bread or as daring as piece of Fugu, which is the fish that if cut slightly the wrong way will kill you instantly. Try everything, because life is too short not to. I think back to that 15 year old in the Sushi restaurant last year. I can't help but smile and think she has come a long way.

Always Planning

On of my favorite quotes of all time is, "Life is that little thing that happens to you, when you are in the middle of going on trips." I don't really know why I like it so much, except that it sums up the way I feel about everything. Just recently, I received an email from the College Board, which is the group that makes the SAT's, and also plays a strong influence on helping kids with college decisions. A year ago, sitting on a computer in the comfort of my New Jersey, American home, I would have scoured the email and absorbed every word of it, with hopes that it could help me get into my top choice schools, University of Virgina, Georgetown, or the Naval Academy. Now? These sort of emails are always quickly deleted, as they just take up space in my already overflowing email account. It's filled with words of love from family and friends at home, words in a different alphabet from Japan, and words of support and friendship from exchange student's across the world. In my current place and time in the world, these emails are what make me happy. Normally the College Board email would have been thrown away in the trash bin before even reading it. I don't why, but I opened the email titled, "For High School Juniors." The first sentence caught my eye and has stayed with me since, "March of your Junior year is the perfect time to start planning your college experience..." Well, it is March of my Junior year and the only thing I'm planning is a grand Japan tour with my Mom and Nana. We're going to explore the ancient capital of Kyoto, see the most beautiful Castle in the world at Himeji, learn about the bombing of Hiroshima in the city itself, cruise out to the floating Torii of Miyajima, and explore my adopted city of Kochi. SAT's seem so far away from that. Last year at around this time, I unceasingly thought about the future. College and how I was going to get there was always on my mind. I used to be one of those people who doesn't like suprises, someone who likes living knowing what the next day brings, and living by the books, like going to college in a conventional after graduation with everyone else. But I'm not like that anymore. A few weeks ago, my Mother sent me an email, which I'm not sure that she knows made me feel a whole lot better. "...In case you decide to take a year off and visit Australia, Argentina, Germany or wherever. We don't care. We want what you want!" This line made me feel like these recent feelings are okay to have. That it isn't a terrible thing that I don't really care about College. But that's not to say I don't want to go to college eventually. But I'm sitting right now in another country that I have grown to love, despite all it's numerous hardships. I can't help but feel that there is nothing I would rather be doing than living in the moment, right here and right now. While most American Junior high school students are studying for AP exams, I'm studying maps of Kyoto. While taking SAT's, I'm passing in notes in 4 different alphabets. Upon speaking to guidance counselors and college admission officers, I'm conversing with locals in Kochi, Japan and learning things that I could never learn anywhere else. I'm doing what I do best, exploring while absorbing knowledge, and then growing from there. It seems like our whole life is about the next step. What I mean is in elementary school, we are learning and planning for middle school. In middle school, we eagerly look forward to high school. And then we are on to college, which prepare up for the future careers. And when all is said and done, we still plan for the next step as we wait for retirement. When do we ever get to just kick our feet up and relax for a moment? When do we get to just enjoy who we are and where we are at a particular moment. I try to think of a good answer for that, but I've got nothing. With school, at least for me, brick walls have always protected us from the real world, and all it's burdens. It is scary, nothing is for sure, and life is never easy. But those walls have also shielded us from the real world's wonders and knowledge that no teacher can acurately teach. I broke out of those walls, much earlier than usual, and got a strong dosage of life. Now I don't know how I'm going to be able to go back. Maybe college is different, though. I guess I'll figure it all out one day. I know I'll eventually be in college one day. When that may be, though, I haven't a clue. It may very well be the customary time of right after graduation with my classmates. As for right now, I'm going to continue researching places I want to see on the Japan tour. So that when it's time for the trip, we'll see what we can. Nothing in life is ever for sure. Like asking myself where I'll be in 10 years. I don't even know where I'll be tommorrow. But you know what? I'm really not too worried about it

Like I Never Left

Being exchange student means living and experiencing things that spending the year in our birth countries would not allow us to experience. During orientation when the Coordinators of the exchange are talking about all the benefits of the program, they fail to mention one thing. One thing that is so important to me, that I can't imagine where I would be in the course of my exchange without it. And it doesn't happen to every exchange student. You have to be really lucky and work very hard for it. For me, it was finding a host family that I became part of. A family that even though I no longer live with, welcomes me back to the home as if I never really left in the first place. That family, the Masaki's, are and always will be, one of the best things that I have experienced on my year abroad to Japan. Yesterday, I went back to visit my first host family after a 4 week hiatus, in which I moved into my third family. As I walked through the Masaki family pharmacy, it felt the same way it did 4 months ago, when I walked through the sliding glass doors everyday after school. My host mom was working behind the counter and she looked up and exclaimed, "Ah! Jurie!" We began talking, never once letting a difficult language barrier block our way. I showed her the schedule I had made for the upcoming trip from my Mom and Nana, and she whisked off to make a copy for her family. I mean, the fact that my family from America's visit is that important to them, must show something. Soon I heard familiar footsteps and my favorite person in all of Japan came bounding the stairs. Naoko Masaki, 22 year old Kobe University college student, and the girl, whom I really consider to be my big sister, ran at me and gave me a much-needed hug. I've written about what it is like to be a younger sister before, but I want to add something. The thing about Naoko is that she and I are 100% different. She likes Couture clothes, galleons of makeup, and girly stuff. The kind of stuff that I don't really think too much about. And yet, when she stands there in her Cheetah skin leather coat, knee high heels, makeup painted face, and all-around Diva look, I can't help but absorb every word she says. I find myself wanting to be just like her in all the cool ways. It's weird to think that I LIKE being a younger sister. Anyway we begin talking, and to my disappointment I found Otosan Masaki was away in Takamatsu on business. But they invited to hang out the next day, go to the movies, and enjoy a fun-filled afternoon with my first host family. Naoko suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me through the back of the pharmacy and up to the apartment, I lived in back in August through November. The Masaki's just recently bought a dog, which Naoko wanted me to meet. I hadn't been back in the apartment since November, but it hadn't changed at all from my memories. Walking up the stair case and through the garden was nothing new to me. Obachan, my host grandmother, whom I really adored even though it was really difficult to communicate with her, greeted us merrily. I was shocked at how lively she was, but really overjoyed to see the elderly woman so spirited. Naoko told me in secret that ever since they got the dog, Obachan had been acting excited and much younger everyday. I couldn't help breathe a sign of relief, after all, she was my adopted grandmother for a few months and seeing her so energetic brought on a good feeling. Soon I met, Sakura, a little weiner puppy that was the cutest thing on 4 feet. I watched as Obachan played with Sakura merrily, getting nibbed on slightly. Ojisan, my host uncle, came into the room, and we were all conversing about the upcoming trip. I showed them the schedule, and they complimented me on my amazing planning skills. Sometime in the festivities of Sakura's cuteness and Obachans laughter, Naoko invited me to lunch with her and Ojisan. And soon we were heading to my favorite Okonomiacki restaurant, Hakobe. At the restaurant Naoko and I began talking about the upcoming trip. I told her that I was going to Kyoto in the early morning and would be waiting for my Mom and Nana for about 8 hours. She came up with a brilliant plan. Instead I should take the bus to Osaka, and we could meet up at Universal Studios Japan for an awesome day. It was perfect! I'd get to make an already brilliant trip, even better by spending time with my big sister in Osaka. She also took on the task of helping my plan some last minute details with the Kyoto portion of the trip. I asked Naoko when she would be heading back to Kochi, and she said she was coming back specially to meet my Nana and Mom. Back at the pharmacy I said a reluctant goodbye to the family. But I wasn't worried because the next day I would be meeting with them to see a movie and hang our at the Aeon shopping center. The next day 2:30, Otosan and Naoko came to pick me up. I hadn't seen Otosan in a month and was very exicted to see that he hadn't changed very much. I would have drove my bike over to their apartment, 45 minutes away with no trouble but Naoko informed me that Otosan wanted to check out the premises. On the car ride to the Masaki apartment, he interviewed me all about my new family. His conclusion: that I am very happy and lucky to have such a great new family. Naoko later told me that he was very worried about the whole thing. That fact is that he didn't realize how difficult things were for me in my second host families house, until I told him towards the end of the stay. She said that when they found out, the Masaki family was very worried about me. But my new family is absolutely wonderful, no difficult weird rules about going out with a trusted first host family. Because he is Japanese, Otosan tried very hard not to show any emotions on the whole matter, but I could tell with every thing I talked about, he was breathing easier knowing I was happy. And at one point, after I told them that my new host grandmother had a decent amount of grandchildren, Otosan said, "Yes Masaki Obachan has 4 grandchildren and Julie and Sakura." Sometimes you don't realize just how special these little comments make one feel. At the apartment, I again climbed the steps and headed into the living area to be greeted by energetic Obachan and Sakura. We went into the living room to talk about everything. We made the schdule for me meeting up with Naoko in Osaka and then heading to Universal Studios Japan. Then she also made me relieved when she anounced she would travel with me to Kyoto so I wouldn't have to go alone. I love her! Then we talked about the upcoming travels and picked out a company that would dress me, my mom and Nana like Geisha in Kyoto. Soon we were off to Aeon shopping center. In the car we joked around as I talked in bad Japanese slang. You know what I realized? Lately all I have been doing in worrying that my Japanese is terrible. But when I'm with the people who really count, the Masaki's and my current host family, I can communicate and be understood. That being said, I'm horrific at the language, but I figure if I can make people laugh in Japanese, I'm not all that bad off. And I can do that. Naoko showed me her University card and I showed her my Gaikokujin identity card. We both nearly we ourseleves at how awful the pictures were. And they all admitted that with my Rotary application from last year when I was pretty fat, they were really suprised that I wasn't a fat American when I walked off the plane in August. After Naoko and I got Purikuras, the Masaki's and me headed down to a Katsu restaurant for delicious fried food. We joked through the whole thing and then heade dup to see the movie. Before we went in, Otosan pulled me aside to talk to me. He said sternly that he would call Matsumoto-san and ask permission about Osaka and then I would tell my host family. He continued talking about how worried he was and that it prbably wouldn't work out. I shocked him when I said I already talked to Matsumoto-san about it and that my host family was really fine with it. Infact they were encouraging of it. Otosan was shocked. I think my 2nd family experience really made him worried about breaking rules. Not that he ever broke any rules, they were just really strict about thhis kind of stuff. After Night Museum the movie was over with, we headed back to the car. Otosan wanted to get me back as early as possible (still thinking about the strictness of the 2nd family.) As we neared my host house, he breathed a sigh of relief and said, "I'm just very glad that you are happy with this family." And when we pulled up to the Osaki house, Otosan and Okasan said that whenever I am free after school, I have to come and visit them. Osaki Otosan came outside and he and Masaki-san discussed the upcoming trip, while Okasan Masaki hugged me and Naoko to keep warm. Soon I was saying goodbye and thanks for the amazing time and heading into me current host house. I don't think it's possible for someone to become part of family that we weren't born into. But I think being an exchange student gave me the opportunity to get as close to a family as possible. I love the Masaki family, and really don't know where I would be without them. Even when things were bad in my second family, I never got America homesick, I did however, get a strong yearning to go back to the Masaki's. And when I do go and visit them, it really feels like I never left in the first place. Yeah, it's that special.

Class Matches

Most private schools in Japan finish the school year on March 16th, while public schools end a week later. Often a few days before the last day, schools try to do something fun in celebration of the ending of tests and the completion of a grade. Tosajoshi Girls High School and Middle School in Kochi, Japan does something called Class Matches. Basically all the homerooms of the schools compete for the titles of the best homeroom. The competitions are in the sports of, Volleyball, Badmitton, Basketball, Dodgeball, and Tug of War. All the girls in the homeroom are required to compete in at least one of the sports. And everybody does, because it can be alot if fun if you win. When the homeroom teachers post the signup list, basketball, volleyball, and basketball are usually the first to fill up. My first choice was basketball, but seeing as I couldn't read the list when it was put out, I got stuck in the sport seen as the lowest and worst of the choices, Tug of War. But that it is all said and done, I'm thankful for this. Monday Class Matches were incredibly boring. My homeroom class, Yano-homu, was expected to get crushed in every one of the competitions. This is because the class is an A class, which basically means all the smart kids are in it. Smart kids just can't be good athletes, it's a universal thing. But for Wada-homu, with the girls who aren't able to tell the difference between a school day and a sleep session, the matches were hands-down easy. And like expected, Yano-homeroom, Volleyball team led by Aimi, got pulverized. It was too painful to watch. Then our basketball team got murdered by Chugakkou Ichinensee (7th graders.) Soon our Badmitton team followed in pursuit of a slow and drawn out embarrassment. And for a whole day I sat with my Koto friends and cheered for other classes. I really wasn't into it, and I was annoyed that they stuck me into Tug-of-War. I even considered using the Cold I had as an excuse to not come the next day. It was really that boring. I'm so glad I didn't. On Tuesday morning, I rushed to school. Inside I quickly changed into the Banana suit, okay, my Winter gym uniform. Then I put the blue headband on my head. Each homeroom has a different color or pattern and my class got Sky Blue. Wearing it and I looked like a Kamekaze, but so did everyone else. With my friends Mosa and Tomoko, I walked down to the green courtyard for our instructions. Tomoko and Mosa had to leave me because they had Dodgeball, so I made my way over to the weirdest looking group of girls in thw world. To start, in Japanese, Tug-of-War is "Tsunahiki" but pronouce it quickly and you get, "Tunahickey." Tuna. Hickey. Now in my entire life, I never ever thought I would say those two words in the same sentence. Now the thing about the Tug-of-War portion of the day is that the girls who have disabilities, don't know how to do anything else, or are just really slow in signing up for sports, are all the participants. The Yano-homu team, made of 10 girls, was no exception to this. 1 member had a broken arm, how she competed I have yet to figure out. 6 members were about half of my height, bean pole thin, and had about as much muscle as a rotten tomato. Of these 6 members, 1 was the highest scorer on a math exam on all of Shikoku, 3 were famous Calligraphy award winners, 1 was the captain of the school Japanese chess team, and the last doesn't actually talk. That left me and 2 other girls to be the heart and pull of the team. For me, it was as hopeless as trying to teach the theory of Evolution to a vegetable. We were the first match of the morning, and we were playing Wada-homu, the team that had a lot of potential and were the favorites of my grade. All 10 girls were Matcho butch girls and looked really pumped, probably because they had eaten rocket fuel for breakfast or some sort of sports enhancer. Wada-homu had won all of yesterday's sports. Today they were hoping for a sweep on all the games. Yano-homu had two hopes on that morning, to survive the first round and not lose any arms in the process. I think that was a pretty good hope for our situation. The bean poles all squished together in the front, as opposed to what the other team were doing by spreading out. The other 2 strong girls were spread out in the line. One of the bean poles directed me to be the anchor, her reasoning was that I was the biggest and most strong on the team. I'd like to say that was a compliment, but really it was the most truthful thing I have heard in a long time. She saw me roll my eyes and she smiled as she said, "We are going to do great. Just do you best!" I told her I would try, but our team didn't look like a group of Tug-of-War geniuses. She laughed and said, "Everyone will do their best. We are going to win." I didn't say anything, but secretly admired her confidence. When the referree gave us the minute warning, 2 of my team members fretted because they didn't know the rules. How could they be Math geniuses if they can't figure out how to pull a rope? I watched as the Wada-homu girls pulled off the chains, popped a few enhancers, got someone to use the whip, as Yano-homu girls talked about Chess strategies, yesterday's lunch, and what a pretty color we were represented by. Okay, so I'm exaggerating a little bit. But really, it was this bad. Why I even put effort into the rope is beyond me. But when the referee blew her whistle, 6 bean boles, one non-functioning arm, 2 semi-strong girls, and one gaijin beast, suddenly came to life. After about 5 seconds of losing ground, everything seemed to click. By then, Wada-homu didn't even have a chance. The dream of sweeping the Class Matches was thrown away as seen as the whistle was blown to confirm that Yano-homu had won. Shock. That's not even a good enough word to describe the atmosphere. Wada-homu girls were laying on the ground and crying their eyes out. They were also bowing and apoligizing to their classmates for destroying the dream. I could tell the whip was going to be used after this one. The spectators, mostly middle school girls were cheering. The remaining Yano girls thought it hopeless as well, seeing as they didn't even come to cheer us on. Only the Yano-homu girls seemed unfazed. Nearly 20 seconds after the whistle was blown, they were continuing their conversation on Algorithms. I watched as the girls at the Score Board, who had prewritten Wada-homu as the winner, expeditiously cross it out and write in Yano-homu. But it didn't end there. We got word, that no only had we gone onto the second round, but the Yano-homu Dodgeball girls had also won their first round. But the biggest shock was that suddenly, I was confident, for lack of a better word. I ran around to my team members and yelled, "Ganbare!" Accidentally, I took up the post of being team captain to the Yano-homu Tsunahicki team. The girls didn't have a problem with it either. They did away with their geeky conversations, and brought about cheers and pap talks. We didn't have too much time to be excited, because the next round took place 5 minutes later. I was much better prepared this time. I wrapped the rope around my waist, and began screaming "GANBARE!" as soon as the 1 minutes mark was called. People from all around the school came to watch the screaming Gaijin as she wrapped a rope around her waist and angrily pulled. That's not to say I really believed we could win the next round. But something inside me snapped- somthing that wanted the win more than anything. Round 2 was against the winners from the Kokou Ninensee (11th graders.) They didn't look very strong at all, but by that point I had learned never to judge a book by it's cover, or a Tug-of-War team by the amount of geeks it has on it. When the whistle blew, the bean poles lost way too much ground for a quick defeat. So for about 3 minutes, 2 teams were locked in a tug. We were all pulling and slowly getting tired, both teams not gaining or losing. But I watched as my girls began to tire out. I couldn't let them lose it. I started screaming and cheering again. And then we won... Round 3 was quick and painless. I didn't even get a chance to cheer. The Bean Poles beasted. That's all that really needs to be said. After, we had some free time, and instead of discussing geeky stuff, or watching the Yano-homu Dodgeball girls, we stayed behind to watch the competition. The final team was a Kokou Ninensee class, that was made up of a mix of short and strong girls. They had creamed all of the teams they played, including the team that had given us a 3 minute tug. There was no way we could honestly beat them. That was even said from the Bean Pole who had been so confident in the beginning. I hoped otherwise. The final round would be best out of 3. Round 1 was a disappointment. The best that could be said was that we really really tried. 2 incredible teams locked in an epic tug for about 2 minutes. My team lost beacuse we were all so tired and tripping over our own feet. It was painful to lose for everyone. During the side switch, I rounded the girls up and listened to what they ahd to say. They were all tired and were happy to get second place. I agreed but told them that we couldn't let them sweep all the games. Let's try to win at least this one. "Ganbare!" Wrapping the rope around my waist, the sun shining down hard on us all, I began cheering. And then every Yano-homu began cheering and screaming. And I knew. Once that whistle was blown the opponents were done for. The score was tied even. But we had the upperhand. We were confident, rushing with adrenaline, and want to prove everyone wrong. And we won. The best part was running from the rope all the way to the gym where the Dodgeball girls were playing. We ran in and screamed, "WE WON!" Every single girl in Yano-homu started howling and dancing. We all put our arms around each other in a circle and cheered and cryed and laughed. And for the first time all year, I became more than just the exchange student. I was just one of the girls. I was just of the girls who had brought victory for Yano-homu underdogs. Being a gaijin didn't make me and better or worse than my classmates, we were all here fighting for the win and trying our hardest. And I wasn't a gaijin. I was a Tosajoshi Ichinensee, heartily cheering with her classmates. When the day was finished, all 2,000 members of the student body piled into the courtyard for the announcements of the best classes. Like everyone expected, Wada-homu won first place in the high school circuit. They didn't look too happy about that, though. They had lost in Tug-of-War and Dodgeball, Yano-homu beat them out for 2nd place. What came as a real surprise was the fact that Yano-homu won second place. All the homerooms had prepared a cheer for if they were to actually win. Well that is, every homeroom but Yano-homu. Nobody ever believed we could actually win. But we did. So when they called out Yano-homu, our cheer was "EEeeerr!?!?!?!?!" The class presidents were all supposed to go up and receive the certificate from the principal. But when it was our class president's turn, I suddenyl receieved a big push from behind. I found myself arm in arm with Aimi, as we walked in front 2,000 other girls. The principal announced out winnings, as she and I bowed together and took the certificate. Walking back to the homeroom, I held the certificate high above my head, which prompted Yano-homu to loudly cheer. I smiled the laughed as hurried back to my seat, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. And knowing in my heart, that even little things like today's events would never have hapened if I had stayed in America this year. Lately all I have been doing is complaining that things aren't working out with my homeroom. And yet, as I stood there, in front of 40 classmates and friends, I realized that it doesn't matter. The Class Matches were the greatest way for me to say goodbye to the homeroom class. It's time to move on, but I will always be thankful for these wonderful memories.

Racism and Japan

According to my best friend, a little block electronic Japanese to English Dictionary, which has saved my life on than just a couple occasions, the word racism is defined as 'the unfair treatment of people who belong to a different race; the belief that some races of people are better than others.' In my opinion, racism is repugnant and putting it in simplest terms, downright wrong. When studying the past, racism almost always feeds into the hatred of major conflicts, such as the Holocaust, Armenia, Darfur, and Rwanda. And on lesser, but still equallly horrific notes, certain Islam groups hatred towards to United States evenutally spawing into September 11, South Africa's continuing 'separate but equal' government and lifestyle, Australia's former policy of removing Aboriginal children from their families, and so many more. Why even tempt fate with the repetition of history? After all, Racism comes about when one group decides they are the more gifted, intelligent, and cleaner race. It's is all based on vanity, bigotry, stupidity, inhumanity, and above all, lack of understanding. And this brings me to the Japanese. During World War 2, the United States and Canada confiscated Japanese-run businesses and interned the innocent people who ran them. These Japanese looked different and spoke another language that few could really understand, or care to learn. And in doing this, America and Canada perpetuated a terrible form of racism by labeling Japanese outsiders and wrongly assuming they couldn't be trusted. No one can condone, what my country did. And I firmly believe, that it should be remain as one of those events that we must never forget, or risk repeating it. But one good thing did come from the whole mess. Today, though we are fighting a war against certain Muslim groups, we have and are not planning on placing American Muslims in internment camps and taking away their rights of Americans. On a different subject, we must take a look at the Japanese. They are a major world leader and known for wonderful humanitarian aid. They have a strong economy, a successful government, and an all around happy response from the citizens of the country. But no one can condone what the country has done and is currently doing to it's foreigners. To start, Zainichi Koreans are permanent residents of Japan, but hold North or South Korean citizenship. Most came to the country during the Japanese occupation of Korea from 1910 to 1945. Their land was usually confiscated forcing them out of work, which prompted a large scale migration to Japan for work. Though most migrants returned to their country, about 650,000 Koreans remained in Japan. Japanese law does not allow dual citizenship, and until the 1980s required adoption of a Japanese name for citizenship. Partially for this reason, many Zainichi did not obtain Japanese citizenship as they saw the process to be humiliating. Although more Zainichi are becoming Japanese citizens, issues of identity remain complicated. Even those who do not choose to become Japanese citizens often use Japanese names to avoid discrimination and live their lives as if they were Japanese. Even still, Koreans have traditionally been excluded from select employment, housing, and education. Perhaps the strangest form of racism in Japan is on the descendants of outcast communities of the feudal era, which mainly comprised those with occupations considered "tainted" with death or ritual impurity, such as descendants of former executioners, undertakers or leather workers. They are called Burakumin. They were suposed to be liberated in 1871 with the abolition of the feudal caste system, but this did not put a stop to social discrimination. In certain areas of Japan, there is still a stigma attached to being a resident of such areas, who sometimes face lingering discrimination. Only 2 prefectures contain a majority of Burakumins, one happens to be my very own host prefecture of Kochi. When some Japanese people find out where I am doing my exchange, they usually crack up because Kochi is as country as you can get. Sometimes though, they'll mutter under their breath about Burakumin. When I finally learned what that meant, I wa utterly repulsed. It doesn't just halt at other Asians in Japan. Although the average Japanese considers it perfectly acceptable for his western counterpart to work less and receive more money, Westerners have a very hard time in Japan as well. Japanese citizens are recorded in Family and Resident registry system for the use of the government, while foreigners are recorded in a separate alien registration system. A non-Japanese person cannot be directly added to a koseki, which is the main record of familial relations. Why? Because foreigners are not exactly worthy enough to bestow a Japanese last name, which is highly honored throughout the country. As a result, the Japanese spouse of a foreigner will actually appear to be a single head of household, where the children will appear illegitimate. Sometimes, if lucky, foreign spouses are recorded in the "Notes" section. Also, Foreigners residing in Japan for longer than 90 days are issued an alien registration card. By law, foreigners must carry their passport or alien registration card at all times and present it to police upon demand, even though Japanese citizens are not required to carry identification. I've run into trouble with this one once while I was on a run. I won't go into it, but I got a firm warning to always carry the card around. One of the things that really bothers me about Japanese people is their view on 'halfs.' A 'half' is a person with 1 parent of pure Japanese heritage, and 1 parent of foreign decent. Halfs may have a language fluency, a Japanese name, and so on and so forth, and yet they can and never will be Japanese. An event that really prompted me to write this column occured a few months ago during a teaching session. I assist an American teacher in the Tosajoshi Middle School teach, 'English Conversation.' On a Thursday in early September, after the bell had rung, some of the Ichinensee girls decided to hang back and question the teacher. When they discoverd that Ms. Fabian was, in fact, married to a Japanese man, they immediately pestered her about whether or not she had kids, which they referred to as 'halfs.' I was shocked when I put the pieces together to realize exactly what they were asking. Suddenly the girls were talking about 2 of their classmates, 2 'halfs' of Korean parentage, and it sounded vicious. On of the subjects was 'Shino,' the classes smartest, politest, and quietest student. I asked Ms. Fabian if she had known that 'Shino' was a 'half' to which she responded that she had once asked the teacher why the smartest, politest girl had no friends. The teacher responded, in all of the Japanese indirectness, "she has problems at home." When I heard this I assumed her parents were having trouble, or she didn't live with her family. Nope- "her mother is Korean." The sick part is not that this sort of thing happens everyday, it's that these kids are only 12 and 13 years old. Racism at this age is horrifying. How did I protect myself from racism? I opened the front door, met people from all over the world, with different backgrounds, denominations, and views about the ways things are. These 'different' people forced me to realize that the world was never just for me and my race. No, the world is a mosiac of different nationalities each contributing something to the furthur of mankind. I hope the Japanese will discover this. There is no doubt they will with all the foreigners pouring to the country and exchanging ideas. Although the country has a long way to go, I believe that if the West can do it, so too, can Japan.

So Much For Sleep

So my plans for today, Sunday March 18, 2007, were to sleep till noon, eat, sleep till 7, eat, and then well, sleep. But those plans were shot in the butt at 7 in the morning when my lovely host mother knocked on my door, "Julie! Time to go." 2 weeks ago I mentioned that I might like to run to Haruno Park and watch my host sisters elementary school marathon. Half-asleep I put on some running clothes, figuring that I was not going to get back to sleep, that I may as well make the best of the day. And I certainly did that. I ran to Haruno Park, a gorgeous excercise facility about 6 kilometers up and down the mountains away from Kochi. I trekked through bamboo forests and windy peaks and made my way to my host sisters race. And I arrived at about 9. So from 9 till about 12 I watched at the Kouda Shogakkou students raced. Each grade had to do 2 kilometers. I arrived just in time to cheer on Hikari, and waited 2 hours for Maako's big race. I'd like to say it was enjoyable, but I'd be lying. It was so cold and frigid, that I began to wonder whether this whole global warming claim has any substance. I attempted to find my host mom in the crowds of cheering parents. Attempted is the best word that can describe the hopeless situation. Imagine about 1000 screaming Japanese woman, all with black hair, dull colored clothing, and turned backs. But I got lucky when a teammate from the Kochi Synchronized Swimming team spotted this clueless gaijin and directed me to whear my host mom was sitting. So I sat in the back of the stadium and watched as little elementary kids raced. My favorite part about the race was the end. Not just because they were long and a little boring, but because the end always intailed a chubby little Japanese girl walking to the finish line. She was usually holding her hip, as to prove she had a cramp, or fakely limping. That girl was me. That girl who hated and avoided these physical activity sessions at all costs. When the marathon was over, I headed home with Hikari and Okasan in the car. Back at the house we ate lunch and I decided to stick with my initial schedule. Better late than never. :) Upstairs, I curled into my futon bed and closed my eyes. And and as I began drifting into sleep, I heard, "JURIE!" I hopped out of bed and headed downstairs. 10 minutes later I found myself in the car of my host aunt and Obachan heading to some cultural concert. Somewhere in the ride I learned that today was never meant for me to just catch on sleep. At the Green Hall in the middle of the city, I watched the Japanese population of Kochi perform a various evented concert. Old woman did Hula dancing, young children danced to Hip Hop, Middle aged woman folded Kimonos, while one gaijin fought to keep her eyes open. It was a bit boring. No- it was very boring. WHen it was all overwith, my host aunt picked us up. My Obachan was raving about how wonderful the concert was, and I fought with myself not to burst her bubble. Obachan and Aunt talked about what we could do next. It was decided that we would go to Haruno Onsen. So Ebuki, Hikari, Me, Obachan, and Host Aunt quickly got some things together and headed to the wonderful onsen in Haruno. I hadn't been to an Onsen since October, when I went ot Dogo Onsen in MAtsuyama. Back then was shy. Today I ripped my clothes off and jumped in the Mineral water faster than you could say, "gaijin." When did I lose my morals? After the onsen, we all went for a delicious dinner. I got to eat Hiyashi Ohm rice, which may actually be my new favorite food. Back at the home, I felt like I really needed to call home. So seconds after I walked into the Osaki house, I rushed upstairs and called my parents. It was good to talk to them after a long time. I got a lot of things straightened out with the upcoming trip. When it was over with, I happily headed back downstairs. There my host mom pointed out that I had been living with them for exactly 1 month. I had totally forgotten. And a celebration of Apple and Chocolate Tarte was in order. And I wanted to spend today sleeping.... haha

What It Means To Be Us

This evening the Kochi Rotary Nishi club sponsored the first ever Kochi Rotex Dinner. For those of you who don't know, Rotex stands for Ex-Rotary Youth Exchange Students, or people who have gone on an exchange to somewhere in the world and returned. The event was held at Rotary's favorite place, the Kochi Shin Hankyu Hotel, from 5:30 till about 8:00. Everyone involved in the Youth Exchange process was invited, which included about 10 Rotarians, 12 Rotex, 1 inbound (me), and 2 outbounds (next year's exchange students.) I arrived very early and was greeted by members of the Nishi Rotary Club, men who I had not seen for a long time. I briefly spoke to them, and shocked the heck out of them with my Japanese skills. On floor number 12, Matsumoto-san, my host counselor, greeted me and informed I would be doing a speech. For the first time in my life, I was excited to do a speech in public. It's weird, I have been in Japan for 7 months, and the little things like my feeling on doing speeches has changed so drastically. In August through November, I dreaded speeches and avoided them at all costs. I memorized a tiny speech just so I would be able to not make a total fool out of myself. December through February, my feeling on speeches was neutral. I didn't care whether I had to make one or not, I just preferred to be somewhat prepared. Now I just like talking. I swear I like hearing my own voice or something. My speeches usually don't make any grammatical sense because I kind of just Caveman Japanese through it, but I get out what I want to say. And I can joke in Japanese, which makes everyone happy and remark that I have great skills. For today's speech, I didn't even think about it. Instead I kicked back and greeted the arriving Rotex people. When everyone had arrived, the dinner started with the Rotarians doing opening welcomes. The Julie Garner pampering began when my teachers, Matsuoka-sensei and Kitazoe-sensei were introduced. Kitazoe-sensei talked about her experiences with all the exchange students over the years. They nearly forgot Matsuoka-sensei, and even though he tried to force me to be quiet, I jokingly reminded the Rotarians to make him speak. He talked in all of the Japanese indirectness about how badly last years exchange students were, and how I am "subarashii (wonderful)." Soon dinner was served, which comprised of Seafood Salad, Weird Potato Soup, lots of Bread, and Bacon Wrapped Steak. Then on to the enormous plate of dessert. It was discovered that I am better with chop sticks than with forks and knives, how horrible is that? After the meal it was time for the Rotex to speak about their experiences with going abroad. One of the things I found most interesting was that everyone went to Tosajoshi High School, my host school. Out of the 41 Kochi Rotex student's, only 12 could come to the dinner. I probably should use a better word other than student. The oldest Rotex was in her late 30's, while many of the others were in their late 20's. At first I was a bit annoyed by the fact that many Rotex didn't even come to their own dinner. But when we received the pamplet about what everyone was doing, I soon realized why so few could actually come. Most of the Rotex were spread throughout the world and/or Japan. Many are/or had attended American or Australian Universities. And not just any University in America. I read off the list New York University and Cornell. Those that did not go to University abroad, attended the best schools in Japan. Many were currently living in Tokyo or Osaka, breaking the Tosajoshi tradition. If you ask most girls at my school what they want to do with their lives, most will respond with staying in Kochi. There isn't anything wrong with this, but it is really interesting to me to see girls who got out of Shikoku and got a taste of the world. Those same girls had trouble staying in the rural prefecture, and most of them couldn't. The 4 Rotex from the 1980's, all of whom had gone to Brisbane, Australia, were currently English teachers in Kochi and the surrounding areas. They had all gone to International colleges and were fluent in English. But I found the girls closer to my age to be the most interesting. The exchange student to Austalia in 1998-1999 is a Kochi University student. She speaks perfect English, as well as Arabic. Or yeah, she's a Muslim. I mean full-blown burka wearing Muslim. She was definitely the most interesting to talk to. After all, most Japanese people don't know the difference between a Jewish man and a Muslim man, how could one convert to Islam? I learned that from her exchange, she got really interested in things outside her own country, discovered Islam, and essentially found herself. Another girl, Okayama University student, Akito, who had been an exchange student in West Orange, New Jersey, is studying to be a nurse. She wants to get a job in a big city, where she can use her English as much as possible. And there were so many more stories about how exchanges changed the lives if these girls, who probably would have grown up and stayed in Kochi for the rest of their lives. I came to realize that I needed this dinner, this opportunity to meet people like me. I don't mean like me, in personality, appearence, and lifestyle. I mean so much more. Looking around at all these Rotex, I couldn't help but feel a surge of utmost gratitude and respect. Okay, fine, I'm in a country where you HAVE to repect your senior's, but it wasn't about following culture rules. After all, these girls certainly didn't follow their own culture and expected life course. They jumped on an airplane and lived in another country for a year. And you know? The world needs people like us. People who do something out of the norm, go on an exchange, and teach the world the truth about our cultures. I know for a fact that last year's exchange student from Japan changed the way I see Japanese people. She showed me that not all Japanese people are squinty eyed little geniuses, who eat fish and rish at every meal. (I'm not saying that's how I saw Japanese people, but you get the picture.) Who are the real ambassadors or our home countries? Sure the government sends some fancy guy who speaks in political jargon and thinks he represents a whole country. But the real ambassadors are us. The people who go abroad and want to teach the world about ourselves and our home cultures. And in the process of teaching others, we are learning ourselves. I could go on and on about all that it means to be an exchange student. But no one but an exchange student really would understand all that comes in the package. Last year at my New Jersey Orientation, one of the main Rotarians said something that has stayed with me ever since. "You can tell anyone about your exchange. Mostly you'll get, "Why?" or "Cool!" But a former exchange student will only smile. Words can't describe an exchange."I don't know whether or not exchange students change the world. But I do know that without them, the world would be a little less knowledgeable. Tonight I was surrounded by greatness. The kind of greatness you don't hear about and nobody ever gets credit for. Even though every exchange student ought to get a lot of credit. As the night dirfted on, it was time for my speech. I stood up, all smiles and slightly giggling, began. I talked about school and clubs. And I finished with the fact that I am becoming quite proficient in Tosa Ben, which is the horrible dislect only spoken in Kochi-ken. Nearly everyone wet themselves as this crazy gaijin spoke like a hick. Julie Garner pampering followed. I mean my teachers and counselors went on and on about how good I've been, how I'm trying so hard to learn Japanese, how out of 3 host families, 2 of them love me like their own. Lately al I have been feeling is down about the fact that my Japanese isn't quite good, but flattered isn't a good enough word to describe my feelings listening to them speak. I really did need this dinner more than I thought. As the night ended, I found myself full, happy, and best fo all proud of myself. Tonight, I was surrounded my greatness. The very same greatness that I'm spreading as an exchange student. I hope I'm not sounding arrogant or full of myself. It's just that it's a bit difficult explaining what it means to be us. Exchange students.

My Dignity and the Underdogs

This morning at 9, as I danced merrily in a patch of sugar plums in dreamland, a raspy "Jurie!" work me up with a startle. My host Obachan in a bathing suit, not a pretty picture mind you, wandered in my room, follwed by her army of cats and ushered me to get out of bed. It was time for the Kochi Over 70-years old Swim Team Practice. I reminded her I was in fact a little bit under 70 years old, but I'm not sure she really cared. So 10 minutes later, nursing a bad hair, fighting eye boogers, and just all around morning disease, I guzzled down a steaming hot coffee, while my host mom nearly wet herself. Twas' a sight for sore eyes. I hopped into Obachan's ancient Mercedes as she yelled at me for being slow. As we drove away, she told me about the club. All the woman were Over 70 and this was the last practice prior to Spring Break. She went on to say that usually the practice was 4 hours, but today we would be going for 2. I asked her why, and she promptly replied that I wouldn't be able to handle it. Now I consider myself a pretty athletic person. I bike for 60 minutes a day and try to get an additional 60 minutes of running or swimming in 5 times a week. So her comment made me laugh. When will I ever learn? At the pool arena, I was the youngest person by at least 50 years, and in some cases probably about 70 years. I was also the skinniest person by about 50 pounds in every case, but I won't go into my scarred memory of the old ladies locker room. I'll just say that it was not one of my fonder memories of Japan. In the pool, I made the first mistake of not taking a shower first. But being a cute young Gaijin, no one said anything. For the warm up's the woman did some easy swims back and forth. I gently kicked back and thought, "this is going to be a piece of Chocolate cake." Some of the old whales, oops I mean woman, panted heavily as they returned from their course. I watched and tried hard not to laugh at all. When warm up's were over, the woman got out of the pool for some excersizes, while I did some Breast Stroke drills. From the sidelines I watched as the elderly woman stretched and I couldn't help but remind myself that about my bowling experience (See The Obachan Factor.) And as soon as it was time for the actual practice, I had come to the realization that the Obachan Factor was going to occur at any second. And sure enough when the lifeguard blew her whistle, a midget woman of about 93, dove off the platform and began a Freestyle stroke that rivaled that of Ian Thorpe. In fact as I watched these woman dive off the platform, which alone is quite an interesting feat for elderly woman, I contemplated whether I ought to call the Japan Olympic Organization and ask them to come take a look. You know Japan often does really bad at the Olympics, and I could never figure out why. But after the past week, it has all become clear. Thinking back to the Tug-of-War championships (See Class Matches), where Tosajoshi's biggest geeks crushing an intense Tug-of-War match, the Obachan's Bowling club of ancient fossils beasting a bowling rink, and more Obachan super human strength in the pool. Japan sends their athletes to the Olympics, while they should be sending their misfits, elders, and weirdos. So here is my advice Japan, send in the Obachan and the geeks. Everyone will think this little old 93 year old midget is to cute to be taken seriously, and then WHAM. She beasts in the pool like she ate rocket fuel for breakfast or something. Everyone realizes what a mistake they made when the very same woman, who can barely stand is crying her wrinkly face out while hoisting a heavy medal gold plate over her head, while complaining she needs her Walker. I was far to ashamed of my poor swimming ability to join them. So for an hour I just practiced Breast Stroke and Back Stroke. I forgot how tiring swimming is for the body. But it's really comfortable when you lose yourself in your thought ans the focus to get to the other side. The only problem with pools in Japan are that they are designed for Japanese people, in that they are so shallow. Most Japanese woman couldn't touch the bottom without high heeled shoes, but for me, touching the bottom is a bit of a problem. It didn't matter after I got lost in the swimming, that is, until one of the Obachan remembered that I was still there. She got the other old ladies to come watch. They discovered a gaijin who was a fairly good swimmer. I think they must have expected me to sink like a rock or something. Because when I listened I heard them saying, "Jouzu! Mite!" (She swims well! Look at her!) I tried to ignore it, because I knew what would happen if I stopped and let them talk to me. But no matter what I did, it seemed today my dignity was going to take a real hit. My host Obachan jumped in the pool, after I ignored the woman's cried for me to stop, she grabbed my leg as I frantically tried to kick away, and pulled me back. I briefly wondered if Superman was trained by an Obachan. SHe made me get out of the pool, despite all my pleadings. She told me that she would find a swimmer, who I could have a chance againt. Someone a bit more my pace, of you will. The result, Tanaka-san, a 88 year old woman, with severe arthritus, who was quitting the club because she was getting too old. In fact, today was her last practice. I suppose I should have been offended that my Obachan thought the only worthy swimmer of my poor skills was someone who needed a cane and 50 pills a day. But really, I was just please I wouldn't get too smoked. And, I know I keep saying this, but seriously, when will I ever learn? The old ladies circled the pool and began a slight earthquake as the hobbled around cheering. My Obachan put me on a platform, until I informed I didn't know how to dive. She gasped in awe and said something about learning to dive when Matthew Perry pulled into the ports of Japan. So I had to jump into the pool and wait for the whistle, while Tanaka-san stood on the platform. When the whistle was blown, she dove in, and I kicked off the wall. The race had begun. Like my Obachan had said, Tanaka-san was the perfect competitor for me. We were perfectly evenly matched, that when I pulled ahead, I believe she was slightly suprised. The race in the 25m pool, was supposed to 100m, so 2 back and forths. I was a few seconds ahead of Tanaka-san as we made the first return, and I saw that she was tiring out. But like all old people in Japan, refused to concede defeat. It was such a close match. Though I ended up beating her. But the old woman claimed it was an even tie. I reckon the woman wanted Tanaka-san to remember her last practice on the team as a successful one. But Tanaka-san was not having ony of it. She asked me for a rematch. I was deatbeat tired, but I saw her wrinkled old face, and behind those eyes she was fending off severe leg pains. And I knew what I had to do. So we raced again. And even though my plan was to let her win, she would have beaten me. I was tired, and she was determined. And those two factors combined, made Tanaka-san look like Michael Phelps in the water. She hopped out of the pool and into the arms of her old lady friends, while I was sort of forgotten about. The woman all laughed and joked about how fast she was, and how Tanaka-san creamed the gaijin. Now an 88-year old Obachan can tell all her great-great grandchildren that she beat a 16 year-old gaijin in a pool. I can't say I'm too upset about this.

The Obachan Factor

You know you have heard the popular saying, "Behind every great man, there is a great woman," or something to those lines. Here in Japan the saying should go, "Behind every great Japanese, there is an Obachan." For the past 7 months I have been able to witness and experience the Obachan. And it has furthured my belief that Japan could have won World War II. All they needed to do was send Obaasan into battle. America would be called the United States of Nippon, Australia would be The Land Down Under the Rising Sun, Thailand, the Land of Smiling Japanese, and so on and so forth. Firstly, let’s just explain what Obaasan means. It should mean Grandmother in Japanese, but it has a few related meanings, such as a generic term for an old lady. People who are close to the Obaasan, are usually allowed to call them by the less formal name of Obachan. And since I have had about 4 Obachans who have allowed me to call them this, I'm going to refer to them as Obachan. The Obachan Factor. I guess it could also mean, old woman with super human strength. But I will get to that in a moment. A few days ago, I went bowling with my current host Obachan, Saiko Osaki. When she invited me to tag along with her, I figured it would be just she and I bowling. I've known her long enough to know that she was not going to sit on the sidelines. The woman is a busybody. She is 70 years old, though she looks in her late 50's, and in the past year alone, she has done more traveling throughout the world then most people have done in their lives. She also runs her own Coffee Shop and has a job selling sports wear for older woman. The real shocker is that she manages to spend everyday with her grandchildren, 3 cats, take care of her nearly deaf husband, bowl on Wednesdays, Hula Dance on Friday and Sunday, and swim 2 mornings a week. Does this suprise you? This is a typical Obachan, mind you. At the bowling arena, we entered and were greeted by 10 elderly woman. Not just elderly woman, either. The only accurate way to describe what I witnessed was 10 little green Yodas, all with the hunch, wrinkles, and weird ways of speaking. Yoda was supposedly 800 year's old, well I reckon these woman were around that age too. I mean most of them could personally have owed Commordore Matthew Perry a dollar. Japan does, after all, have one of the world's highest life expectancies. Anyway, they crawled over to their designated lanes and began practicing. Obachan Osaki sat me down to have me watch her game. She was playing 3 other dinosaurs, that instead of practicing, sat around the lanes chatting about husbands, cats, medicine, and other stuff old people talk about. I sat back and waited, preping myself for an enjoyable experience. I was thinking that the gutter would be getting a serious workout, at least one Obachan would throw out an arm, and the winner would be the only person to get their bowling ball to the other end. When will I ever learn? As soon as the first Obachan took her turn, it all really came together. I mean EVERYTHING from the past 7 months that I have seen, spent a moment in awe, and then moved on. Often I would see an Obachan gently walking into their gardens, very sweet, and then she’d get the futons out on the drying line and start beating them with sticks and metal bats. I mean she was like a 5 year-old Mexican beating a Pinata on Cinco de Mayo. In the street, the Obachan have a reputation for going really slow. This is just to annoy you, because when they’re after that cheap rice in the supermarket, they can move at 100km/h, even the ones with walkers. The Japanese are known for the fact that they will fight to the death for a seat on the train. Obachan just have to stand and look old and withered for someone to take pity on them and offer them up their seat. This, too, is just an act. The main thing about Obachan is that they are very familiar with the Japanese Bible, "Japan: This Is How We Do Things." But because they are so old, they don't follow the rules at all. The advantage with being that old is that they know pretty much everything, and so have perfected many things. This is probably why they spend so much time complaining that the young generation of Japan is ruining the culture and shunning their heritage, or that nobody uses the proper kanji – after over 300 years, they pretty much know all 50,000 of them. And Obaasan are involved in EVERYTHING. My school is pretty much run by alumni, who are now old enough to be sending their great-great-grandchildren there. One of my teachers, a young alumni of about 70 years-old, just recently had a class reunion with all her school mates and teachers. The main teacher must have been 400 year's old, no joke. It really looked like the former students propped the woman out of grave to pose for the picture. "She may be old, but she is sharp as a wit. She even corrected my poor grammar," my teacher joked. I really wanted to say, 'Well of course she corrected your grammar, she was probably around when they decided on how to use the grammar.' Back to the bowling alley, I watched as 3 woman, who probably learned how to bowl back when the cavemen created the game, fling the round 3-holed ball at speeds that found me briefly questioning my ability of sight. Nascar folks would be choking on their tongues, Olympic bowlers would be shaking, and gaijins underestimating the power of the Obachan would lose control of their mouths and be forced to allow it to fling open in awe. My Obachan got a strike on her first turn. Did you know that when you get 3 strikes in a row, it's called a 'Turkey'? There were more Turkey's on that Old Lady team than there were in America on Thanksgiving. The winner of the day was a woman who was old enough to be my grandmother's grandmother. She got 5 strikes and 3 spares. I honestly don't think I have ever gotten more than 2 strikes in one game in my life. These Obachan are incredible. Though I was shocked at their strength, when it comes down to everything, they really deserve it. These very Obachan witnessed their country change from it's native culture to it's modern state. They saw Militarism, destruction of their country during countless wars, and a wave of peace. They experienced death, poverty, hard work, and freedom. My Obachan once told me that her marraige was arranged by her family. I as an individual have no problem with this, because my best friend at home will probably have an arranged marriage. But I know the younger Japanese generation find that to be horrifying, among other things that these Obachan have experienced. And now these old woman struggle with the younger generation to keep a culture, that is 1000's of years old, alive. Had Admiral Yamamoto sent in Obachan, I'd be fluent in Japanese. These cute little old woman, who can barely walk let alone beat futons with metal bats, are truly the strongest people you could ever meet. I really firmly believe this. And the great thing about them, is that when you take the time to listen to what they have to say, you learn so much. I hope one day I have the super human strength and mind power of a Japanese Obachan. If not, I'd still like to be able to beat futons with metal bats.

Japan's Revenge on Marco Polo

When most people travel to Japan, they expect to eat traditional, or at least what they think is traditional, proper Japanese food, like Sushi and Rice. This usually means that they miss the opportunity to try something about as Japanese as Sushi. If you ask the average Japanese person what his or her favorite dish outside Japan is, the majority would receive the answer Italian. But this is Japan, and nothing in Japan is exactly right or normal, for that matter. There are hundreds if not thousands of Italian restaurants spread all throughtout the country, and yet in my 7 and a half months, I have never actually been to a genuine Italian restaurant. But then look at me, an American girl who hails from a small town called Verona in North Jersey close to Italian restaurants that can compete with food from Italy, the Sopranos films a block away from my house, I knew the meaning of Fungoul before I knew the meaning of English, and I think I've always known the slang terms for Italians. I also know that if you want to get a good New York City bagel, you won't go to Grimmel, Iowa for it. The same goes for Italian food in Japan. But before you get the wrong idea, that I actually don't like Italian food here, know that I actually like it better. Legend has it that Marco Polo in the 1200's, during his famous continental crossing journey, brought back to Europe the knowledge of how to make Ice Cream, Pinata's, and Pasta. His journey brought him to Asia, where probably in China, he picked up the knowledge of how to create tasty Pasta. Now don't be mad at the Italians for stealing the ideas of the Chinese. Because they did, after all, make Pasta a dish of their own by smothering it in Tomato sauce, garlic, and cheese that truly smells like feet. That it why the world knows Pasta as an Italian food. And with that, I come to the Japanese take on Italian food. Though the noodles didn't originally come from Japan in the first place, I like to think that today's Japanese Italian food is kind of like a 'stick it to the man' type thing, or 'stick it to the Italians.' So what makes Japanese-Italian food so different? Just about everything except that fact that it is really pasta under each speciality oddly flavored dish. That is just what Japan does. The country often gets critisized for imitating other people designs, and rarely coming with ideas of their own. But by taking other world ideas and making them better, Japan eventually makes it their own. Look at Sudoku, for instance. Do you really think that the Italians expected their beloved pasta to be eaten with chop sticks? Or that while sucking the noodle in to the mouth, slurping sounds to be hundred percent acceptable? I think some of those traditional Italian grandmothers, with the accents, and the world's best pasta sauce, would pass out at the manners of Japanese-Italian restaurants. And what about taste? Sprinkles of Nori, or seaweed are found on almost all of the Pasta dishes. But seriously, the dish selections are the best of all. Cremey Octopus, Shrimp and Salmon, and my personal favorite, Squid Ink. The squid ink does actually change your mouth color to black. My tongue, after turning black, will never be the same again. In all my visits to Japanese-Italian restaurants, I have yet to see one plate of actual pasta covered in Tomato sauce and stinky feet cheese. Since nothing from the ocean is actually located on the pasta, I imagine the Japanese would strongly object to the dish. Pizza is another one of those dishes in Japan that is only found at 'Italian" restaurants. My first experience with Japanese pizza came about at a tiny Kochi restaurant. I was with my first host family and I was given the menu to select whatever I liked. I'm a self-proclaimed pizza lover, so you can imagine what I wanted. But when I went to the pizza section, I realized there was no plain cheese pizza. What kind of Pizza restaurant lacks REGULAR pizza!?!?! Finally by my third Italian restaurant, I accepted that there would be no delicious plain cheese pizza. I even tempted fate and ordered Mayo and Corn Delight. In Japan, pizza toppings may include corn, diced potatoes, scrambled eggs, mayonnaise, tabasco sauce, curry sauce, and various kinds of seafood. Another variation is rice pizza, substituting baked rice for the crust. Squid ink is also occasionally used in lieu of traditional tomato sauce. But my favorite Japanese dish, Okonomiacki, is occasionally referred to in English as "Japanese pizza", although its ingredients, preparation method, and taste are substantially different from traditional pizza. In conclusion, Japan is fascinating. I've tried to have an argument with the some Japanese about the fact that Italian people don't actually put Seaweed on their pasta. I always lose the argument. I wonder what Tony Soprano, half of Italy, and Marco Polo would say if they journeyed to a Japanese Italian restaurant. I bet once they get over the slurping, they'd realize just how delicious the main dish really is. Kind of like Japan.

If It Doesn't Kill You...

"If it doesn't kill you, it will only make you stronger." I'm not sure who first said that. Maybe it was Charles Darwin on Evolution, George Washington on his men's suffering in Valley Forge, or Al Gore on his creation of the internet. But I kind have a secret suspicion that the speaker had lived in Japan. Or better yet, been beaten to the pulp by Japan's moment's of pure insanity, bad living conditions, love for suffering, and beastly weather. If you can survive life in Japan, then you can survive anything. This morning, I had to leave the house at 7:15 AM to get to school. Normally I leave at 8, and take a 30 minutes bike ride to get to my school. But today I had to walk because I had commitments after school. The problem is that nobody warmed me about the wicked weather, a flash flood storm mated with a tornado and created a very uncomfortable morning for me. Now, I don't claim to have seen the worst of all storms in the world. I was not raised in Florida, nor Tornado Alley. But when I was 9, Hurricane Floyd drifted up to New Jersey. It hammered my home and even made my trampoline float away. The storm I got caught in today, made Hurricane Floyd look like Eyeore's rain cloud. From the moment, I left the Osaki family's Kouda home, I was doomed. The wind seemed to sense my presence. My skirt was blown up to my neck almost immediately, causing it to become instantly sopping wet. Not 2 minutes away from the house, and my black leather Pilgrim school shoes turned into water jugs, as no where was safe from the hundreds of little puddles that appeared from nowhere. Soon the umbrella did a 360 from the wind, as my raincoat continued to snap open despite my persistance in keeping in shut. I had a good hour more to do of walking till I reached the school. It happened sometime when water began to seep down my uniform that I asked myself, "When did I become to tolerant of everything? When did the prospect of walking and hour in a rain storm become just something so routine?" I know back at home at year ago, the potentiality of walking in chilly spring weather with icy water pouring down my head, would have prompted me to handcuff myself to the bed and swallow the key. What happened? I'm in a country that is truly a First World country, with a strong ecomony, and 125 million generally content people. I often find myself wondering, "Why?" I don't mean to sound critical, but the Japanese on the whole, have terrible living conditions, at least in the winter time. Most homes don't have heating, and if they do, it is rarely used. Foreigners liken the Japanese adaption to winter as the Japanese way of 'enjoyment of suffering.' And though that's great and all, for them, I'm not Japanese. Everyday during the long cold winter was a real difficult struggle for me. Especially when it came to my school's strict uniform rules. On those freezing winter mornings, I was not allowed to wear a coat, besides the light jacket we were given, undergarments, and hats, gloves, and scarves. The uniform is a very open uniform also, my legs were always exposed, and the V-neck caused my neck to freeze. But the winter is now just about over, and I survived it. I even grew from it. In fact, upon moving to a new family, I was given the choice to take a 30 minute bike ride to and from school every morning, or take a warm quick bus. I choose to take the bike because it was cheaper for my program, and more convenient. It's also not just the winter that's intolerable. Summer is also humid beyond being able to function. Most houses have air conditioning and will use it in the summer. Not that it really helps all that much. In my first week in Japan, I had such bad heat stroke that I wondered how much more time I had left on earth. But I survived and headed into a gruesome winter. On a smaller scale, well in my opinion, I was hit by a car on my bike. I didn't get more than a small scratch, but the fact that I'd been hit by a car was just so Japanese. How did that make me stronger? Well it just taught me to be a bit more careful because Japanese people are really bad drivers. I like to think that school in Japan could really kill an unprepared American teenager, who had always considered waking up early on a Saturday morning sacreligious. How I survived those first few months, is a bit of a mystery. School in Japan is about 10x harder than American school, and not just because you never get any vacation. School is 6 days a week, with Sundays as vacation. However, sports and clubs almost always meet on Sundays. and then there are the things that we have to do in school. Osouji, or school cleaning, is painful, at best. Cleaning toilets and scrubbing lime off sinks with a sponge that makes nails black and grungy. And then we have to consider all the things Japanese students that could really kill you. Kancho is a prank performed by clasping the hands together so the index fingers are pointing out and attempting to insert them into someone's anal region when the victim is not looking. Basically giving someoone an enema. Students do this for fun. Another thing is that fact that girls are disgusted with body hair and often pluck arm hair off during class. In November, my right arm was missing more than half it's arm hair. Japanese food is another on of those things that really could kill you. I firmly believe that if anybody could eat a little bit of Nato and survive it's pure fowlness, that their immune system must build itself up to fend itself against anything. I just recently found out why Japanese people put Wasabi on Sushi. Wasabi is a spicy horse radish that kills infection on the raw fish. I NEVER eat Wasabi on raw fish. There is also the Japanese tendency to devour raw egg whole. And have you ever heard of Fugu? It's a Blowfish sold in Osaka. It's supposedly a real delicacy. If cut the wrong way, you only have a 40% of survival. But even basic Japanese food could make you sick. Shikoku's exchange students learned a really difficult lesson at an aquarium in Okinawa. We never figured out what caused the mysterious "Okinawa Sickness," but Japanese food gave us a bit of a shake then. Back to the introdction quote, I really think I'm a stronger person because I survived freak hurricane/tornado happenings, car accidents, manmade enema's, and really anything else that Japan has sent my way. And trust me, it's sent alot of funky stuff at me. I was lucky, 20 minutes into that walk under the seed of Hurricane Katrina and an F5 tornado, my host father took pity on me. It was too late for my uniform, which had declared a permanent state of emergency, and my shoes, which were contacting the flood insurance company, but I made it to school alive. My hair looked like I had just walked out of a blender, when I told the American English teacher and Kochi resident of 20 years of my morning encounter with Mother Nature's fury. She just chuckled and said, "You think that was bad? Wait till Japan's rainey season." I was annoyed at first, but now I've got one thing to say about that, "Bring it on Japan!"

Julie in Junior Year...

In about mid-April, after I returned to school to discover that I had moved up an entire grade with my classmates, about of wondering struck me. I was given a new schedule, with Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday filled to capacity with fun and interesting classes. While Monday and Friday each had about 4 to 5 Self Study in the classroom. During Self Study, I sit at my desk and do many things. Though the time is intended or me to study Japanese, I learned early in the year that I would never be able to spend that much time studying a book. So last year, I filled the free periods with reading English books (very BAD idea) until I began writing. In January, I bought a thick pink notebook and began jotting down little things that eventually turned into journal entries of observations and specific events I don't want to forget. Soon enough, I took the writing one step further and began typing them up and putting them on this blog to show the very few people who actually cared. Now, surprisingly, a pretty decent amount of people read these writings, which is great. During my first part of the year as a High School first schools, I didn't have the boring Monday and Friday situations, so it was all okay. But in the very beginning of my school life a High School 2nd Grader, with the new schedule, the constant Self Study was very difficult. I thought alot about home. What found myself missing the most, was being smart. What is mean is that I missed sitting in class, and understanding and learning. One such Self Study, I wrote out whole section about what I think life would be like if I remained Julie in Americountry... I thought that the editorial was going to make things much worse, but in the end, it made me sit down and think. And from thinking I realized how stupid I'd become. It was never my plan to post this on the webpage, because I knew people would jump to the conclusion that I was homesick or something. And that was never the case. But now that I am actually a Senior, and dreading going home, while at the same time excited for the whole thing, Julie in Junioryear is ready for the world. ****************** It's April, at 7 in the morning, when I roll over in my bunk bed. The fan that I use to sleep every night has been shut up, by my mom. It still gives her a chuckle every once in a while to think that the only way to get my awake is to shut off my fan. It's been that way for ages, it seems. Friday morning's are terrible. Getting up early 5 days a weeks is brutal, and on that last day, it's the worst. But I do manage to get up. Somehow. The first thing I do is get dressed. The night before, I lay ed out my clothes on the chair beside my desk. It was difficult work, because I had to take alot into consideration. What would the weather be like? What would people think if I wore a shirt with childish characters on it? Would I attract unwanted attention if I wore something like this? Afterwards, I make my way into the living room and turn on my hair straightener, because I don't like blow drying the night before and sleeping on my hair causes a crazy poof. While it heats up, I brush my teeth and hair, grab breakfast and lunch, 2 100 Calorie Packs that I will eat at school. Back in the living room, I hot iron the hair, while I watch the news with my Mom. Lots of deaths in the world, yet still occasionally even the news has to show some hope. Even if only be accident. At 7:45, while Shannon, my younger sister, is just starting to eat breakfast, I head outside. My best friend got her license in December, and everyday, together, we go to school. I only have my permit, but I will get the license in November upon my 17th birthday. It's so crazy to think I'll be driving soon. Honestly, I don't want to learn to drive, but I know it is a necessity in today's America. Sometimes on weekends, when my Dad is home from a business trip, he and I practice driving in his Mini Van. I am horribly sarcastic at the concept of practing in a Mini Van, but I think my Dad enjoys teaching me. Just like he enjoys when we go to Vermont and ski together. Anyway, together, Roshani and I drive to school, first stopping to pick up Lauren, on Linden. And then up Sampson Drive, painted by the Seniors of 2007, along the football field of the Verona Hillbilly's. We've all known these roads for ages, and now the time is here where we have to learn them from a car. After we park and grab our backpacks, it is time for us to head into Verona High School. The 3 of us depart out separate ways and head to first period. My classes are English 3 H., Us Hist 2 AP, Gov and Pol AP, Algebra II, Chemistry, Creative Writing/Public Speaking, Criminal Justice and World Studies, and Gym. I opted out of lunch again, so that it would look good on my college records. However, again, I am regretting that decision, because I have no free time on weekdays. Nonetheless, school is alot of fun. I love my teachers alot, and when we are given time in class, I'm always with my friends. I never really felt like I had alot of friends until this year. This year it seems like everyone is beginning to realize that we only have a little bit of time left, and that since we are all so swamped with homework, we all have a little bit in common. And speaking of homework, we are being slowly pecked away to death with the enormous amount that these teachers seem to think we can handle. Back in the fall, there was a week, which most of nicknamed, Junior Hell Week, because none of us escaped with less than 4 or 5 major reports and hours with difficult homework. Junioritus? We are all too busy to catch it. But when we have time to be together, we are always talking about the upcoming stuff. The AP exams are looming on everyone's mind, including mine. This year I have to take 2 of them. I'm sure I'm ready for US History II, because my teacher was Mr. Maher, who is the most genius man to ever walk to face of the earth. But I'm still worried, nonetheless. There is also Spring SAT's, which are always annoying. But what everyone is really worried about is the Prom. This is our JUNIOR prom, the BIG one. Some people are already starting to get dates, and form tables, and reserve limos. I don't think anyone is going to ask me, so I'm probably going to just go with Rosh and Lauren, though I'm not totally sure what we are going to do. We still have plenty of time, luckily, but that doesn't mean we aren't always thinking about it. College is also a biggie. Since Junior year is supposed to be the most important year, we are all looking into where we want to go and stuff and what we want to do. I don't think anyone is really all that sure, especially me. School is monotonous. I eat during 1st and 5th period, one of my 100 calorie packs, while I try to listen and learn. Like I mentioned before, I love my teachers. But school is school, and it isn't supposed to be loved. So when it is all finsihed with, I can't help but feel relieved that the it's over. After I collect my things from the my locker, which has been relocated due to school construction, Rosh, Zoe, Araba, and the other members of the Track team, head t the girls locker room to change into our gym clothes. Rosh and I run on the long distance team, though we are really terrible. It doesn't matter though, because we put our full effort into it, and the coaches see that. Rosh drops the car off at home, and then we walk to HBW for practice. After the warmups, Coach Galbs assigns Rosh and I to a long distance run on the trails. Together, we set off to explore the lovely trails. When we get back to practice, less than an hour later, we are dismissed. Together we walk home, complaining about the huge amount of homework waiting for us at home. Sure enough, when I arrived back home, I take out my History book and begin the intense studying for the test of the Cold War. With my family, I eat dinner, and then get back to studying. ********** What's interesting is that, it's incredibly boring. Maybe it's just the style in which Iwrote the editorial. Yet when I finsihed it, I thought about my life in Japan. Nowhere in Junior Year do I go to the library filled with books in a different language waiting to be unlocked, nowhere do I mention the Koto club, and cleaning with Chiake, or the uniforms, or the JAPANESE. No matter what I do, I'll always wonder what life would have been like if I had just stayed at home and became Julie in Junioryear... But you know, I'll never ever regret becoming Julie in Japanland...

A Little Friendly Competition With the Osaki's

In the past week of my time living with my third host family, the Osaki's, sports have been a key part of life. Biggest understatement of the week. It seems like we are all eating, sleeping, and breathing with thoughts of the sports that are going on in the world. In Melbourne, Australia, the FINA World Championship Swimming competition is being held, while Tokyo is holding the World Championship Figure Skating Competition. After living in a very competitive atmosphere, catching a little bit of competition as well, I'm beginning to understand why there will never be world peace. And it all comes down to Synchronized Swimming. Okay, so that's a joke. Yet, still, I could never imagine the position sports that barely affect me would be putting me it. Synchronized Swimming. Now I've said this before, but if anyone ever tells me that this is not a sport, I will smack them so hard they won't know what hit them. Though I can't honestly say that I have not been one to make fun of the sport. Before actually trying it, I used to think water ballet was stupid. But now? Synchronized swimming or "Shincro" is a very difficult and gruelling sport, which my two youngest host sisters participate in. I've been fortunate it try it, or better yet, been beaten to the pulp by the sport. I won't go into to the arduous details. But just know, that the following day after my first attempt at the sport, that I, a fairly athletic 16 year-old, could not get out of bed. Here in the Osaki house, Shincro is always being watched, by everyone. I mean everyone, from my 7 year-old host sister, 15- year old host brother, and 76 year-old host grandfather. We all watch and make remarks about how Japan is definitely going to get 2nd or 3rd, while Russia and Spain will determine which place Japan will get. Because, in the world, Russia, Japan, and Spain are the top 3 Shincro teams. There is no questioning that simple fact. I was told this once, quite firmly, as if applying that I would not be allowed to argue. And honestly, I didn't care enough to argue. Now, however, I've become a bit of a fan of watching the sport on television. After each and every round, or song display, my comments are always welcome, even though I'm not exactly Japanese or a Shincro master. Just as long as the comments are criticism towards Russia and Spain, and praises for Japan. For the first part of the Melbourne games, I was an advocate for the Japanese Shincro girls. I was more than happy to cheer for my host country, which looked to be quite a strong team of girls. Not that I had a choice anyway. Unfortunately for me, America also participated in the Melbourne Games. Why is this unfortunate? Because they got smoked. I may well very be an exchange student in Japan, with an insanely competitive sports family, but I am first and foremost an American. The incident occur ed in the afternoon at March 23, 2007, during the main portion of the swim competition. Russia was in first place, Spain in second, while Japan barely held third. The last participants were the two American swimmers. I watched them secretly hoping they beasted out in the water. Don't get me wrong, if America couldn't win then Japan would be my first choice. But as I watched the Americans seemingly flawless performance, and listened while my host family suddenly became quiet with worry, I couldn't help but laugh deep inside. That was until the scoring portion. American got 5th place, leaving Japan in third place. Now I don't know anything about Synchronized swimming, but they did very well, I don't know why they got such a low score. My host family suddenly became a herd of Yankee fans at a successful Red Sox game. They were cheering and thanking whoever it is they thank when they pray. I sat in annoyance, trying to figure out where we went wrong. The Japanese team had made a little mistake, while the American girls had done everything right. Then my host mom, noticing that I wasn't dancing around like a baboon, said, "Aren't you happy? We won!" Hey I know I do alot of Japanese things, but I'm not Japanese. "Well America lost. And I'm American." She suddenly got very stern, "Well we're Japanese." Everyone quieted down to see what I was going to do. The air suddenly went from a cheeriness to a stern feeling of unease, so thick, I could have cut it with a knife. I couldn't help but look at the faces of my host sisters, each wearing a confused and hurt expression that I'd suddenly Benedict Arnolded them. I sort of burst out laughing at this one. And soon everyone was back to being laughing and cheering. The way I see it is that I was probably the only person in the whole entire universe that really cared whether the Americans won in Synchronized Swimming. I'm also probably one of the few Americans who really cares about the outcome of the Melbourne games. Actually I don't really care, except that if Japan loses, I may not get dinner. Maybe I should care. Figure Skating. The competition had died down alot, when the Osaki's had a full party with Obachan, Ojichan, Aunt, and cousin, Ebuki. These dinners are always really enjoyable, because everyone is friendly and careless, just excited to be around family, or maybe food. Probably the food part. Yet, I stupidly committed the ultimate crime against Japanese people during the Figure Skating Event. After we were all fed, the group gathered around the big screen TV to watch a figure skating competition being held in Tokyo. We missed the very beginning explaining who was favored to win, but I think that everyone predicted it wo be one of the fabulous Japanese girls. The first contestant was this Italian athlete named Carolina. She was a great skater, and I could agree with my host grandmother, host sisters and cousin, on this fact. But I could not agree that she was pretty. Her eyes had a mile in between them and her nose looked like a tree stump. Call me insensitive, but this is what I thought. SO as they praised her for being a gorgeous woman, I peeped in that she was ugly, at least by gaijin standard. And I got in trouble for it. My host grandmother told me that I shouldn't make judgements on people based on looks. Because that was just utterly wrong, no matter what culture I came from. I felt really terrible, so I decided to keep my mouth shut for while. The next competitor was a very talented South Korean. And yet, when she began her program, everyone grew quiet, which I suspected was from the worry that she might beat a Japanese skater. God forbid. Then the whispering began, as the skater made some incredible jumps. Aunt and Ebuki remarked on the skaters ugly looks. While Obachan sat back in her chair and nodded in full agreeance. This is when I committed the ultimate crime against Japan. I said that I thought the South Korean was very beautiful, and that she was a far better skater in anyone else in the competition thus far. As soon as the words seemed to come out of my mouth, the judge threw out my defense lawyer and sentenced me to life in prison. God forbid a Korean be pretty! I was so in the dog house for this comment. Unfortunately for me, Japan won the 1st and 2nd place medals in this event. I heard about this one for a long time, especially since the pretty Korean got 3rd. There is another competition going on. In Japan, the spring time is also the time for the country famous high school baseball competition. Kochi is actually a very strong prefecture for baseball, and has 2 teams in the competition, one in which is my host brothers school, and Muroto. A week ago we watched Muroto smoke their opponents and move into the next round. But as I sat there watching my host father smoke out the ears at the fact that his Kochi school was losing, I realized that this house is far too competitive in sports. Later, I called my Mom, to see if she was following the results of the Melbourne games. She thought I was mad because of how much I was talking about them, and didn't even know that Melbourne was having games. Thank god she is coming next week, allowing me to miss the final portion of the games. If I stay, I might end up dead.

You Are What You Bleed

If I had a dollar for ever time someone here in Japan asked me, "What's your blood type?" I'd probably be able to buy Shikoku. The blood type theory of personality is a popular belief in Japan that a person's blood type or ketsueki-gata (血液型) can be used to predict their personality, character, and compatibility with others. Using blood type to predict a person’s character is as common as going to McDonald’s and ordering a Fried Shrimp burger. There is no solid scientific evidence that blood type has any relation to the theory. But that hasn't stopped the Japanese from believing in it. When blood types were discovered in 1901, no one even thought to attach a superstition of personality to it. That was until 1927, when a Japanese University professor, with no medical background, published a book on blood types relating to personalities. Unfortunately this information was used in a wrong way. The Nazi's used blood types as supposed proof that Aryans were the 'better race.' This is because B blood is the most common in animals as well as Jews and Asians, while most Europeans contained O and A type blood. The blood type theory of personality wasn't used again until 1970, when Nomi Masahiko published a book on it. Since then, Japanese people have been obsessed with this theory. Why? In my opinion, the Japanese are genetically quite a homogeneous race, but don’t want to seem the same. The Japanese population, however, has a fairly even distribution of a number of blood types. Hence, if grouped by blood type, diversity is created. Proof of this comes from the fact that the Japanese don't use the Rh factor when determining charcteristic traits. The Rh factor is the positive/negative part fo the blood. Since 99% of Japanese people are postive, a personality theory never had to be created. But that's only my opinion. What's you blood type? Over 90% of the population of Japan knows their blood type, while 69% of Americans know theirs. Japanese popular culture has been saturated by blood typology for decades. Dating services use it to make matches. Employers use it to evaluate job applicants. Blood-type products — everything from soft drinks to chewing gum to earsers — have been found all over Japan. Blood type theory is widely popular in women's magazines as a way to gauge relationship compatibility with a potential or current partner. Morning television shows feature blood type horoscopes, and similar horoscopes are published daily in newspapers. So what exactly does it mean to be your type of blood? Perhaps you are an A type, also known as the Farmer. Those with type A blood tend to be reserved, punctual, law-abiding, overcautious, stubborn, and unable to relax. You'd share this trait with Brittany Spears, Adolph Hitler, and George Bush Sr. AB's are the Humanist, said to be serious and solitary by nature, but also cool, sociable, popular, sometimes standoffish, and indecisive. John F. Kennedy, Mack Jaggar, and Jackie Chan share these traits with you. Maybe you're B blood, or the Hunter, seen as the worst of all the blood types by the Japanese. The traits are individualist that dislikes customs, strong, creative, wild, and unpredictable. Or maybe you are like me in the O category, or Warrior, seen as the best type. Our traits are trendsetters, loyal, self-confident, independent, vain, and jealous. Upon first learning of this theory, I found it amusingly naïve and just plain stupid. When I share the blood type theory of personality with people back home, they have the same reaction. We all think it's an incredibly silly concept. And yet the Japanese aren't the only ones with dubious personality theories. I mean, I come from a culture in which nearly everyone knows their horoscopes. Even though most say that they don’t really believe in astrology, everyone seems to know his or her astrological sign and most have a peek at the predictions now and then. But it doesn't just end at Horoscopes, our culture also uses hair color to determine personality. Blondes are commonly thought of as being innocent, naïve, or just plain dumb. While, red heads apparently have fiery personalities. Brunnettes are supposed to be boring and/or smart. So what's your blood type? Even if you think it's a silly way to determine a personality, I think it's a good thing to know. Because when it comes down to things in Japan, you are what you bleed.

The Grand Japan Tour Schedule

Konnichiwa everybody! I'm writing to apoligize for the lack of updates over the course of March 29 to April 11. I'm going on the greatest Japan tour ever to be created in the history of Japan. And I'm really not exaggerating about this one either. Over the course of 2 weeks, I will be visiting Nagoya, Osaka, Kyoto, Himeji, Hiroshima, Miyajima, and Kochi. 5 of these destinations will be visited with my Mom and Nana, who are coming to Japan for the first time on April 1st, 2007. As for you. Read all my new journal entries, I've been updating like crazy, and I'm sure some have been missed. But if you're interested in my activities of the GRAND JAPAN tours, then here you go: (Just to let you know, piczo is set up NOT to allow paragraphs or spaces between places, so the schedule is going to be VERY difficult to read.) Thursday March 29- Saturday March 31: Nagoya with the Hirosue's. I'm not totally sure what we are doing exactly but I know I get to see Nagoya Castle, Nagoya University, Japan Art Museum, and much much much more! Sunday April 1 (Me): 11:00: Meet Naoko in Osaka 12:00- 7:00- Universal Studios Japan! Sunday, April 1 (Mom and Nana): 2:30- Jackie Garner and Rosemary Young land at Narita Airport 2:30- ***depends on how quick they can get through the airport, get bags, head through customs, collect Japan Rail Passes, and make their way in to the Narita basement train station** 4:13-5:18-\ Narita Exp. 28- Tokyo Station 5:36- HIKARI 383 to Kyoto- 8:20 4:43-5:45-- \ Narita Exp. 30- Tokyo Station 6:06- HIKARI 423 to Kyoto- 8:43 5:13-19:17- \Narita Exp. 32- Tokyo Station 6:36- HIKARI 385 to Kyoto- 9:20 *Depending on the time they come in, I will meet them at Kyoto Station Shinkhansen station. They will then head into the station basement. Then we will head to the Kyoto's Traveller's Inn. Monday, April 2: Walking, walking, and MORE WALKING! 8:00-8:30- Grab an easy breakfast at a local convenience store and halt a cab for Ginkakuji (silver pavillion) 8:30- 9:00- Explore the grounds of Ginkakuji 9:00-10:00- Stoll the Philosophers Path (No shopping, or eating as it's known for a expensive area). We can take a 5 to 10 minute break. 2KM- 1 3/4 miles. 10:30-11:00- Nanzenji 11:00-12:00- Walk to Chion-en and breifly explore the grounds. See famous old wood structure 12:00-1:30 Grab lunch at one of the stalls at Maruyama, take a nice break. Admire the park's beauty and why it is known to be Kyoto's top "hanami" or Sakura viewing spots. Probably be very crowded. 1:30-2:00: Explore Yasaka Shrine 2:00-2:45- Walk to Kodaiji and explore the grounds 3:00-Sunset: Make way to Kiyomizudera, pass along Yasaka no To (the pagoda in all of Kyoto's famous pictures) Walk along the Sannenzaka (path of easy child birth) The climb up to the temple is full of many various shops. Do a little shopping, but have at least an hour in the Shrine. Make sure to see the sun set. Explore Kiyomizudera- rest at Kyoto's most beautiful Shrine. After: We have a few options, head down the mountain and find a nice little restaurant, catch a cab back to the hotel and find a cheaper restaurant around home, head back into Maruyama park to see the lite up Cherry Tree, go for another long walk into the Gion Geisha district for dinner and shopping. Let's see when wwe finish. Tuesday, April 3: Tourist morning and Shopping in the afternoon 8:00-8:30- Breakfast at a Coneni and brief walk to Heian Shrine 8:30-9:45: Explore the beautiful Gardens and amazingness of the Heian Shrine 10-12- Get dressed up as Geisha 1-2- Take cab, bus, or subway to Golden Pavillion and explore the grounds 2-3- Bus to Ninnaji, explore grounds 3-4- Take cab, Bus, or Subway to Gion 4-whenever- Whenever, shopping and exploring old time Japan on the streets of Pontocho or Gion. This is the place to get an expensive but nice dinner. Between 3-6, be sure to look for some Maiko and Geisha scurrying along the streets. Wednesday, April 4: 8:00-8:30- Grab an easy breakfast from a Conveni and halt a cab for Nijo Castle. 9-11- Explore Nijo Castle 11-11:15- Shinsenen ?Time? (11:30-1) JR Sagano Line from Nijo Station to JR Saga Station (covered with JRP), 6 minute walk from JR Saga to Romantic Train entrance. 25 minutes of pure beauty through the Hozu river valley gorge. 1-2:30: Pick up lunch at a Yatai (moveable stall) and explore Nonomiya and Tenryuki. Y600. Be sure to walk through Bamboo Lane 2:30-2:45- Togetsukyo Bridge 2:45-3- Make the step climb up Iwatayama Mountain to feed the Monkey's 3:45- Take train back to Kyoto (Just wing it- I'm not totally sure how to do that.) Thursday, April 5: 8-8:30- Take Tozaisen to Kyoto Station 9:14-10:48 - Board Shin-Kaisoku bound for Himeji 10:50- 11:15- A short walk through Himeji city to the beautiful Himeji Castle 11:20- 2,3- Explore the most beautiful Castle in the world --If we want to explore more of Himeji, Take the city bus for Shosha Ropeway from JRESanyo Railway Himeji Station and get off at the final destination **Depending on time we finish- 3:29- 4:33 Hikari 467- Hiroshima 4:29- 5:32 Hikari 469- Hiroshima 5:06- 6:09 Hikari 471- Hiroshima **Check in at the Arc Hotel Friday, April 6: 9:30- Take the Hiroshima streetcar to Genbaku-domu mae 10:00- 11:30- Genbaku-domu and Peace Park 11:30- 1:30- Hiroshima Peace Museum 1:30- 5:00- Free time for shopping, exploring, Hiroshima Castle?, 5:00- 6:30- Head to Okonomomura. 28 Okonomiacki restarants in one place, and each is different. Return to Hotel for early night Saturday, April 7: 9:00-9:23 Sanyo line from Hiroshima Station to Miyajima guchi 9:40- 9:50- Miyajima Ferry 10:00- ? Explore the beautiful island and Itsukusa-jinja shrine, with the floating Torii in the near distance. Explore the island and maybe even get to feed the deer. 1:55-2:05- Miyajima Ferry 2:33-2:59- Miyajima Station-Hiroshima 3:10- 3:51-Hikari 464 Hiroshima-Okayama 4:52- 7:19-Nanpu 19-Okayama-Kochi 2:40- 2:50-Miyajima Ferry 3:04-3:31- Miyajima Station-Hiroshima 3:46- 4:27-Hikari 466 Hiroshima-Okayama 4:52- 7:19-Nanpu 19-Okayama-Kochi Welcome Home, Julie! 7:19- Matsumoto-san picks up the Garners from Kochi Station and takes them to the Oriental Hotel, probably dinner as well 7:20- Take Cab to Oriental Hotel Sunday April 8: 10:00-2:00- Explore Kochi's famous Farmer's market, which had a 300 year old history. Also climb up to Kochi castle. Have lunch in the ever interesting Hirome market. 2:00-6:30- Mr. Masaki is taking us to the Katsuruhama, most beautiful beach in all of Kochi, Godaison, famous shrine, and Makino Botanical Gardens. 6:30-?- Welcome Party from ROtary for Jackie Garner and Rosemary Young at the SHin Hankyu Hotel, will get to meet all; the host families and counselors as well as some teachers. Monday, April 9: Events are undecided at the moment. However Mrs. Osaki will be driving us wherever we want to go in the Kochi Prefecture. Tuesday, April 10: Sleep in! 3:00- Tosajoshi High School for a Koto mini concert Dinner with the Hirosues Wednesday, April 11: 8:30- Jackie and Rosemary depart Kochi Ryoma airport for home.

How Do You Say "Faux Pas" in Japanese?

For the past 7 months of my exchange to Japan, I have made hundreds if not thousands of language blunders. Sometimes I think I make more than even the average gaijin can claim to. And trust me, the average gaijin makes ALOT of mistakes. There are other times when I know some Japanese people set me up, other time there is no one to blame but my idiotic self. Nonetheless I wish to share some of the more intesting occurences with the world in the hope that if one ever comes to Japan, one comes prepared to make more mistakes in the brief course of a day than in one's entire life. In my September I was fresh meat for a large group of Japanese girls at my school. Everyone was really interested in everything about me, and I was often asked what my favorite hobbies are. I also answered in the few words I knew "Skiing, Reading, History, and Running." The Running part got alot of gasps and unbelievable noises. Why would an American do excercise, I thought all they did was eat McDonalds, shoot people, and love Hollywood. I would always say, "Watashi go Unco ga daisuki desu," thinking I was saying "I love excercise!" Most of my friends and listeners would eaither chuckle quietly or give me a horrified stare, which I interpreted as more disbelief that an American would actually excercise for fun. Finally after the majority of my classmates discovered that I loved Unco, a teacher pulled me aside and asked me to stop saying such foolishness. I argued with him in English that I really did love excercise. SUddenly his serious grim face turned into a bright laughter and he said, "Oh you mean undo." Turns out "Unco wa daisuki desu" is "I love Poop." I have a teacher, who for the purpose of concealing my embarrassment, we will refer to him as Igawa. He is the most awful putrid odd little man. He is always looking at himself in a mirror and making snide remarks about me because he thinks I can't understand him. Anyway I wanted to tell my friends about the object of my my utmost loathing. "Igawa ga kirei desu," I proudly annouced one afternoon at lunch. Half of my friends snorted in laughter while the other half just stared at me in utmost disgust. Finally somebody asked, "Why?" My lack of Japanese prohibited me from saying that the man is the most right foul twit I have ever layed eyes on it, so I settled for something along the lines of he is just not nice. They all nodded their heads in understanding, while suppressing their laughter. Finally somebody said, "You mean 'Igawa go kiRAi desu." Apparently I called the world's most awful man, quite beautiful. Then there was accidentally perverted blunder. During one of my self study periods, I was to do a little speech in Japanese about what my life in Japan has been like so far. The audience was a small group of teachers and students who were interested in hearing my terrible Japanese. I was telling the group all about friends when I said, "Kaho-chan wa shikima desu." Everyone gasped in horror as I stared around waiting for cries of applause at knowing such a difficult Japanese word. Instead I was met with whispers and the English teachers asked me what I was trying to say. When I told them Kaho was colorblind, they cracked up and began telling everyone what I was really saying. Kaho-chan wa shikimo, Not Shikima. The difference of one vowel makes the difference between colorblind and horney. Poor Kaho, either way she is no longer looked at the right way. But I certainly can not forget the unfortunate mishap involving a very tired host mom and a stupid eager exchange student. I turned to my host mom, who was yawning heavily, and said, "Takusan chikube," or "Many yawns!" The woman nearly fainted and stammered "wha...what...WHAT?" as she eyed me from head to toe wondering what would possess me to say something like that. My electronic dictionary revealed the simple problem. I had meant to say Akube, instead of chikube, because akube is yawn in Japanese. Instead I told the lovely woman, that she she had a lot of nipples. Oh dear. She was looking considerably less sleepy after that wonderful comment. And then there have been those countless daily menacing incidents. Some poeple will never let me live down the time I told my first family I had seen 4 cats. The word for 4 is also the same word for death. So for a few brief moments of horror, my host parents believed me to have just recently killed a cat. In the first few months every morning I went to say "Itekimasu," meaning "I'm leaving!" Instead I would say "Itadekimasu," meaning "Let's eat!" I would then merrily skip out of the house, as my host parents laughed themselves silly at the stupid little gaijin. The sea between Shikoku and Honshu is called, in English, the Inland sea. For a while I referred to the water as "Inland Sea," which the Japanese heard as, "Inran." I was telling people to commit lechery, when I was trying to tell them to visit the Inland Sea. Being honest, I could go on and on with the countless mistakes that I have made. You know what, though? Being here as an exchange student, and as a foreigner or gaijin in Japan as taught me a really incredible technique that has gotten me through everything, all those little moments when I would have been embarrassed enough to put on a paper bag over my head. It was in those horribly embarrassing moments, when it all came together and I realized I just told my brand new host mom she had a lot of nipples. I realized there is only one thing to do to get through it without scarring one's sanity. Burst out laughing. I mean sure, sitting there and allowing the horror of embarrassment to sink in is a viable option. But why? My first host family thinks I slaughtered a cat. That's pretty funny. They say laughter is the best medicine. Though I'm not totally sure that's true, I do know that it cures symptoms of Gaijin Stupidity Embarrassment Disorder (GSED) And I figure, once you can leave to laugh at yourself, life suddenly becomes a lot easier to live. But pooping makes it even easier.

Finding the Strength to Forgive

I'm strongly considering applying to go on another Rotary Youth Exchange as a year long exchange student. When the idea first materialized, back in mid-March, another thought also came about. I had been thinking back into the early days when I first applied to Rotary. The organization asked my family if they would be willing to host an exchange student from Argentina, who would be coming to Verona. The deal was 2 weeks, and my Mom was more than willing to agree. And so the Garner family became Ale's first host family during her year long exchange to New Jersey, America. 2 weeks turned into 4 months, in which everyone discovered that hosting and being an exchange student was not the easiest thing in the world. Ale spent hours on the computer, immersed in Spanish and her home culture. We all wondered if she wanted to make her year the best that it could be. But what's worse was that her 14 year-old host sister and future exchange student to an unknown country, Julie Garner, was not the best host sister in the world. Ale and I fought quite often, making snide comments at each other. I don't really remember all the things that happened, but I know it wasn't warm and fizzy friendliness. And after being an exchange student for all these months, and understanding exactly what she was going through, this is what I have come to conclude. Ale had never been the older sister in her family in Argentina, while I had never not been the older sister. I was young, and eager to travel. She was 17, and on her first big trip outside of her part of the world. I had these preconceived notions about exchange students. I didn't understand what it was like to be in an entire different culture that you knew next to nothing about, being thrown into a school system with no similarities to your own, being spoken into in a foreign language that you can barely understand, and having people have high expectations of you, some in which are impossible to reach. I didn't know that all these factors plus more were constantly weighing in an Ale, and thus I took my own ideas about her. Things didn't work out between the two of us. And yet, a few months after she left, the wounds in which we caused on ourselves began to heal. At school, we passed each other everyday in the hall. A cold stare went to a simple wave, occasionally followed by a smile. The next thing I knew I was calling her name from halfway down the hallway screaming, "Ale! Good morning!" Breaking all the rules, she even secretly told me which country Rotary had placed me into. She knew about Japan, even before I did. Our originally rocky relationship continued to grow warmer and friendlier as the days passed on by. In February, we even arranged to meet up in Montclair to see our other exchange student friends. Nothing can really compare to when you are sitting at a Starbucks in Montclair, with 4 continents. Yurie from Japan, and Asia. Judi from Germany, the European. Ale from Argentina, and South America. And of course, yourself, American, of North America. I think that's the kind of feeling that the Rotary Youth Exchange program hopes to promote. And when you sit speaking your native tongue to these girls, who all speak different languages, grew up in different cultures with different ideals, and yet are sharing one common factor. THey are exchange students right here right now. There is no greater way to look at the world than thru the eyes of an exchange student. And I was lucky, because the year before my big adventure, I was given the friendship with these 3 girls. Wonter turned to Spring, which blossomed into Summer, and ALe and I were great friends. But when the time came, as it always does, for Ale to leave, I didn't get to say, a proper goodbye. I was stuck in summer school. A few weeks later, and it was my turn to be an exchange student. In Japan, my first host family, the Masaki's, had an older daughter, Naoko. Today, I consider Naoko to my unofficial big sister. I love her with all my heart, and I look up to her just like any little sister looks up to their older kin. But things were not always peachy. In my first month, I was convinced Naoko quite disliked me. She always seemed busy and annoyed every time I tried to talk to her. Eventually I came to realize that it was all in my head, and that we had both been raised in different cultures that emphasize a different way to treat people we love. By November, I officially began calling her my big sister, and she eventually accepted that I was her little sister. Leaving her family was really hard for me, but I was always welcome back. And sometimes I would go for a visit, and it would be like I never left in the first place. In March, right after the idea to do another exchange materialized, and I spent an exciting day with Naoko and her family, and I began thinking about Ale. Ale, who I now consider to be a very good friend, who emails me on the occasional holiday or just out of the blue to say hello and wish me luck on my exchange. It had been over 9 months since I had seen her, and 7 months since I had come to Japan. 7 months since I had begun to understand what she was going through in those days when I cut her no slack for not being a perfect exchange student. I had learned why she had spent so much time on the computer immersed in Argentina life. Sometimes, we as exchange students get so hammered at in our host country language, that the only thing that soothes us is some good old native tongue. I began to understand why some days she was in a bad mood, and seemed quite annoyed when I tried to talk to her. We exchange students don't have perfect days. Sometimes we wake up on the wrong side of bed, or ar stricken with early morning homesick that shoots the rest of the day in the butt. I realized why she didn't want to watch TV with my family every night. Because she couldn't understand what most of it meant, and sometimes she wanted to make sure we had our own space. I saw why Ale was never very busy. It wasn't because she hadn't made any friends, it was because she was unaware about how to ask them to go out for a hang out or something. There a million things about Ale that I was finally able to understand, because I experienced them as an exchange student. Thinking about it all, and I realise that when we lived together, we both made numerous mistakes, but luckily were eventually able to overcome them and be friends. But there is more to it. This post is called finding the strength to forgive for a reason. Since I had come to realize that the reason things did not work out between Ale and I was not all of her fault, like I had previously convinced myself, I had begin feeling guilty. This sounds silly, especially since we did end up becoming friends and we both put the past behind us. And because it was certainly not my entire fault. But I looked at the relationship I have with Naoko, and wondered if things could have been like that with Ale. To be honest, I don't really think that things could have been like that with Ale, but I do think those 4 months of living together could have been easier if I had known everything I know now. In mid-March, a few days after realizing this whole thing, I sat down and wrote Ale a long email. I told her everything that I have just typed in this post. I hoped that she would understand it all, and not be offended or having no idea what I was talking about. I poured everything out into an email, freeing the guilt like feeling that I had mounted in my stomach. I was not asking her to apologize, and I was not apologizing either. I don't think either of us has to apologize, because we both put the past behind us long ago. Instead, in those words, I found the strength to forgive, not Ale, but myself for reasons of not understanding, for not cutting her slack, for not trying harder to connect, and for easily giving up on having her as even more than a friend, but as a host sister. It took her over a week to get back to me, and I anxiously awaited for her reply. I hoped she would understand what I had said, and I wanted to hear what she had to say. As the days rolled by, I made images in my head that she was angry with me, that we had silently agreed to forget about all that trouble, and now I was bringing it up again. I also thought she read it and had no idea what I was talking about, and just thought I was having a crazy hallucination Exchange student moment. But when she did get back to me, neither incident occurred. She had been busy, but when she opened the email, she read and absorbed every word. She told me that it had made her cry, not tears of sadness, but tears of happiness. She told me that sometime over her year in America she made this very same realization, that we had both been fools. Her way of forgiving herself was putting the past behind her, and building the strong friendship we have today. She pointed out that a year abroad changes us in a million ways, but perhaps, the greatest gift we develop, is the strength to move on. At the end of the email, I signed, "From Your American Younger Sisier, Julie" The final closing door came when I read the bottom of Ale's reply email, "From Your Argentinian Sister, Ale." That's the best way to leave things. And you know? I really do think I'm one of the luckiest people in the world. I don't think many people can say that they have a Japanese and Argentinian old sister.

Nagoya Love (3 Entries)

On the morning of March 29, 2007, my alarm woke up at 5. I followed my usual morning routine, with the addition of quickly packing some clothes in a backpack. Soon I was on the first floor, ready to go. My host father drove me to the bus stop at Harimayabashi in the center of Kochi, where I met up with Yurie. I got a very cold goodbye from Mr. Osaki. At first I was nervous as to what I had done wrong, but I realized that he was going to miss me. I'm really lucky for the Osaki's, as they are a great host family. Yurie had all the tenderness of a rotten cactus, and I later learned she was sick and not a morning person. To be honest, I was not excited at all. I realized that the next time I would see my beloved Kochi again was with my Mom and Nana, but it didn't matter. The trip was not starting off as I had hopped. After a bus ride to the airport in Nangoku City, we arrived. Yurie and I headed to the JAL counter to buy our plane tickets for Nagoya. I had my money all set, but suddenly she whipped out some paper and said that Rotary had given her money to pay for the fare. I was so embarrassed, but I couldn't do anything as she payed quickly. In the airport, Yurie bought a breakfast, while I quietly drank a coffee. Her mood lifted with food in the stomach, and soon we were laughing and joking around. Mostly we were joking around about Kochi airport. It's a really nice place, about 1/100 the size of Newark and Tokyo, built right in the middle of a rice paddy. And what really got us both was when they announced our boarding, we actually had to walk out onto the tarmack to get to the plane. Yurie and I got the front seat of the plane for the 45 minute plane ride. Yurie put on her Ipod, while I studied Japanese. When they announced our arrival, I eagerly looked out the window to see a real city! (Hey, living in the country makes people crazy sometimes) But the air field was just a small airstrip on the side of a farm. I thought Nagoya was supposed to be the 4th largest city in Japan. I felt like asking for my money back... haha. When we arrived, Yurie got her luggage and we headed for a Coach Bus directly to the Heart of Nagoya. The ride through what looked to me like Kochi with no mountains, Yurie kept telling me to shut up. I was making comments like where's Obiyamachi? This looks exactly like KOCHI. Okay so Kochi has 300,000 people as opposed to Nagoya's 10 million, but really who's counting? When the bus pulled in front of Nagoya Station, Sae Hirosue and her oldest daughter, Yuhko Hirosue waved to us. We got off and were warmly greeted by wonderful Sae in English. Actually for the whole day, Sae kept trying to talk to me in English. Now normally I wouldn't mind, but I'm starting to get better at Japanese. Yurie seemed to always be correcting Sae. Yuhko called for a cab, and the next thing I knew, we were heqading back to Yuhko's mansion. Just for the reference, Mansions are like oversized apartments, or penthouses, here in Japan. Yuhko's was no exception. It was a 4 roomed living area, which normally only houses one. It's also the top floor located in the best place to live, right in the middle of all the action in Nagoya. The only thing I could thing was, "Dear good these people are rich." I was given my own room at the end of the hall, where I put down my bag and readied a small camera bag for the days touring. The Hirosue's ate a late brunch and then, with the help of a Nagoya travel guide, picked out a few places to go for the day's activities. Our first stop was the ever amusing Nagoya Castle. We headed to the Matsuzaka department store basement, where the subway is located, and boarded a train for Nagoya-jo. 名古屋城 was built in around 1525. In 1610, Tokugawa Ieyasu ordered the various daimyo to help with the building of a new castle on the site. The castle's construction was completed in 1612. Until the Meiji Era, the castle was the home of the Owari clan of the Tokugawa family. On top of the castle are two golden imaginary tiger-headed fishs, called kinshachi (金鯱 kin no shachihōko); this motif is used as a talisman for fire prevention. They are said to be a symbol of the feudal lord's authority. During World War II, The castle was burnt down on May 14, 1945 by the air raid of the United States, and most of its artifacts were destroyed; many of the paintings inside, however, survived and have been preserved to this day. The rebuilding of the castle finished in 1959. Today the castle is a modern concrete building with airconditioning and elevators. I think the Tokugawa Shogun would be rolling in his grave if he knew that one though. In addition, there are plans to reconstruct the Hommaru Palace (本丸御殿 Hommaru Goten), which was also lost to fire during the war. They figure, better late then never, I guess. Anyway, we entered the enormous castle grounds, and first encountered some lovely Engrish. A sign that meant to say, "This is dangerous, keep away," actually had, "You are dangerous, keep away." Soon we were outside the gates, which were covered in Sakura, or Cherry Blossom. We were all shocked to see the flowers in such beautiful bloom because it was SOOOO early. Kochi, which is alot warmer than Nagoya, hadn't even had Sakura blooms. Sae Hirosue mentioned just how lucky this experience was. Entering the castle, and I couldn't help but feel shocked. There were so many gaijin. And since I haven't seen them in so long, couldn't contain my excitement. Yurie pretty much had to smack upside the head to remind me that I am in fact a gaijin myself. I really did forget there for a minute. Though I had to admit, I wasn't very impressed with some attitudes of the gaijin. One German woman, who heard Yurie and I speaking Japanglish, pushed me out of the way to ask Yurie a questions. And then when Yurie did not know the answer she huffed away and said something about people being no help. Another family was talking about what they wanted to eat for lunch, and the older boy started talking about the wooden box that they cram food in. I nearly shouted, "BENTO!" But they wouldn't have understood. I really felt lost for a little bit. Lost in a way that I knew so much about Japan to not sound silly or ignorant of the culture, but not enough to be Japanese. I'm just a Henna Gaijin (Strange Foreigner) because I really do try here. Around the castle, we did the touristy stuff, like take hundreds of pictures, ride the plastic dolphins, pretend to be interested. Then afterwards, everyone's stomach grumbling loudly, we took a cab back to the main department store and walked to a famous restaurant. By famous, I really mean it had a Nagoya classic dish, only served in the city, and known throughout the country. Hitsumabushi, which translated into English is Eel over rice. Absolutely delicious. I mean once you can get over the whole, wow this thing could sting me and it was once slithering over the ocean, it tasted delicious. Man I'm so weird. haha. By the end of lunch, Yurie began crashing. Sae felt her forehead, and discovered she had a fever. After the bill was paid, Sae gave Yurie the key back to the mansion, and sent me and Yuhko shopping. Yuhko showed me her favorite clothing line, Barbie, you know like the little blonde doll? When Sae returned from putting Yurie to bed, we all went back on the Subway heading this time to Atsuta Shrine. Atsuta Jingu (Atsuta Shrine)is one of the greatest centers of worship in Japan from ancient times. Visitors to the shrine, now count nine million annually. The enshrined deity Atsuta-no-Ookami is Amaterasu-Oomikami as represented by the sacred sword Kusanagi-no-tsurugi, one of the three sacred treasures that symbolize the Imperial throne. Atsuta Jingu was originally founded about 1900 years ago, when the sacred sword Kusanagi-no-tsurugi, one of the Imperial symbols, was enshrined. The geographical character of the fertile Owari Plain has fostered a faith in Atsuta Jingu as protector of agriculture. The shrine buildings were maintained by the effort of devout generals of successive times, such as the Shoguns of Muromachi and Edo Shogunates, Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and the Tokugawas, ruling family of Owari district. During the World War 2, however, more of its buildings were destroyed by fire. The shrine was as sacred as I had thought. Butlucky for me, the religion in Japan is really open to anyone doing the practices of Shinto. I walked into the vast forest land, accompinied by Sae and Yuhko, did the obligatory prayer, and watched how everyone else did it. When it was my turn to throw in a 10 yen coin, I bowed my head and prayed for my Japanese to get better. It seems everytime I go to a Shrine I'm praying for that same thing. Maybe it will come true one of these days. When I looked up, Sae and Yuhko were laughing at me. Apprently my prayor was longer than the usual. Oh well. As we began to walk away, Sae spotted a Shinto priest and two assistants performing some sort of ceremony. We then watched as this priest blessed new cars. It was weird to see such a religiously dressed priest drapped in the mystery of tradition waving blessings over a line of Toyota cars. I thought I'd seen it all, and then I came to Japan. Afterwards, we headed back the way we came from the subway, and back through the big department store. Before heading back to Yuhko's mansion, we stopped in a Tarte store and bought fruit Tartes, and chocolate cake for me. Then we got a Starbucks and finally headed back to the apartment. Poor Yurie was asleep and slumbering away, while the rest of us enjoyed Blueberry's, Lemon, and Chocolate Tarte with WHite Chocolate Mocha. After the little snack, I got onto the computer to email my mom and ended up showing Yuhko pictures of my entire life. And it seemed like 3 hours passed very quickly, as Sae soon called us in for a Curry Rice dinner. Yuki, the Hirosue's youngest daughter, arrived about an hour after dinner. She quickly took to the cake we got her. But sleep came fast that night, because of what a long and tiring day it was.

I was up VERY early. Well by very early, 9:00 on Spring Break. I got dressed, straightened my hair, and then went out into the main room, where Sae greeted me warmly. She then tried to force me to eat breakfast, but I really just can't eat in the morning. Yurie woke up shortly afterwards, still nursing a little fever. Suddenly, Sae's cell phone rang, and she scurried back into the room to tell me that my counselor, Sakioka-sensei. Apparently my main Rotary counselor failed to tell him him my whereabouts, so he got really worried about where I was. Especially since somewhere in Japan, a beautiful English Cram School teacher was viciously murdered. The murdered was caught, but everyone in Rotary suddenyl remembered to check up on me. But it all worked out in the end, after I explained my schedule. Yuhko woke up with all the ruckus, and soon Yuhko, Yurie, Sae, and Me, were leaving the house. I wore capri pants and a tee-shirt, and nearly froze to death. Sae kept trying to give me her jacket, but I was far too embarrassed at myself to take it. We walked through little Shrines and across Princess Street, which was the former Red Light District of Nagoya before World War II. We then walked through a 'cheap' shopping center and onto Osu Kannon Temple. First though, we watched a little show about some famous flamboyant Nagoyan from the Edo period. Japan never ceases to suprise me. It's a popular temple in central Nagoya. Originally located in neighboring Gifu Prefecture, the temple was moved to its current site by Tokugawa Ieyasu in 1612. The current buildings are 20th century reconstructions. To me, it looked very Chinese, but it was nice. What I didn't like was the horrible pidgeons. From the sidelines I watched some idiots get mauled by pidgeons. EVen I could read the signs that said in perfect Japanese, "Don't feed." But as I was walking out, some moron was continuing to feed them, and it looked like I was the one throwing the food. Needless to say those damn flying rats went after this gaijin. I hate birds. On our way back through the shopping area, Yurie had a fit and demanded a new Burburry dress. So we went into an outlet store. I had mentioned I needed a new pair of jeans earlier in the day, so Sae made it her mission to find me a pair of jeans. It was humiliating. They are always remarking how skinney I am, but I'm not Japanese! It is true that I am very thin up top, but not on the bottom. Still the girls forced me to keep trying on jeans, until I snapped and walked out of the store. They were all very cautious of me after that. Sae took Yuhko to look for a new Louis Vuitton bag, while Yurie and I walked down a long shopping street. Soon it was time for lunch, and it was decided that we would eat at one of the most famous restaurants in the city. I don't actually remember the name, but it was the Nagoya famed food of Miso Katsu, or Pork covered in Bean Sauce. The wait to get into the restaurant was long ans we had to wait in all sorts of lines. I really didn't think a food could be worth this much annoyance. Usually I hate Miso soup with a passion, but I couldn't deny that the dish was delicious. I pretty much cleaned the plate. Yurie and I both got Miso Katsu with rice. OISHII! After lunch, we walked down to the shopping district and met up with Yuki, who had just woken up from sleep. Then we hailed a cab and headed for the Tokugawa Art Museum. During the Edo Period (1600-1868), Nagoya served as the seat of the Owari, one of the three major branches of the ruling Tokugawa family. The Tokugawa Art Museum preserves and exhibits the belongings of the Owari, who in terms of wealth were surpassed by only four of the nearly 200 feudal domains of the Edo Period. The exhibits include warrior armors, swords, tea utensils, no masks and costumes, poems, scrolls, maps, as well as a national treasure, the "Picture Scroll of Genji Story". The belongings are exhibited within the surroundings in which they were used, to illustrate the beauty of arrangement and the beauty of assortment, the traditional concepts of beauty in Japan. After the cab dropped us off, we got out and were surrounded by hundreds of lush and beautiful Sakura trees. Inside the heavily guarded museum, I wasn't allowed to take pictures of the items. Instead I had to just look. I really wish I could read the difficult portions of the Kanji, to read the history of some of the items. To most Japanese people, these things are sacred keys to the past, to me, they are just items that I can not understand. The Hina Matsuri room was very interesting though. Basically it was a room covered in the dolls from the Tokugawa Shogun rulers Hina Matsuri festivals. When we were finished with the museum, we walked through the garden and saw a Japanese wedding. Sae wanted me to take pictures, but seriously, I don't think they would want their pictures taken. It was too cold for me, especially in such summery clothes, to really enjoy the garden, so instead we headed back to the SHopping district. Yurie, feeling sick, returned to Yuhko's mansion, while the rest of us went for cake. I wasn't really hungry, but Sae made me get this fruit cake thing. Next we went to the various shopping centers in the main of Nagoya. This shopping mall has three zones. "Central" is beneath Hisaya-odori and consists of three lanes. "Sakae Chika-gai" is located between and below Nishiki-dori and Hirokoji-dori. "Sakae Chika" is directly under Hirokoji-dori. There are about 300 shops selling various items. And they are all underground. A country with more earthquakes than any place in the world has such a comprehensive subway and underground shopping center. haha. AFterwards we went up to Sakae,the liveliest shopping district in Nagoya. It is an area south of the intersection of Hirokoji-dori and Otsu-dori. Here, four department stores compete against each other: Mitsukoshi, Maruei, Matsuzakaya and Parco, for the attentions of shoppers. Now I love the Hirosue family, but I wished they would stop pushing me to spend money. There really wasn't anything I wanted except for jeans, and Japanese jeans just don't work well with my body. Sae left us a little early to check back on Yurie, and with Yuhko I discovered a pair of Blue Moon Blue jeans that I sort of fell in love with. And the largest size fit me. They were just an ordinary pair of pants but the top had a blue and purple flannel second pair, making look like my undies are hanging out. They were perfect, especially when the Hirosues expressed their dislike for them. But I had to think about buying them first. At about 6:30, Yuhko, Yuki, and Me trekked down Princess Dori and back to Yuhko's apartment for dinner. Sae prepared a delicious meal. The day ended similiar to the day prior's with me falling asleep rather quickly.

My last day in Nagoya, started like the day before, with me waking up especially early. Yurie was still very sick, and Sae told me that if the illness kept up, Yurie wouldn't be coming to Osaka with me. This day, I was better prepared clothing wise, and wore warmer stuff. AT about 10:30, we set off for Nagoya STation by SUbway. When we arrived, Sae directed us into the really fancy department store. In fact it was so well-to-do, we weren't even allowed in some of the designer stores. Another funny thing was the convenience store Lawsons in the building. Usually they are just regular buildings filled with cheap but tasty food. The Lawsons in this particular building was like lined with diamonds, filled with food four times the price, and had fancy dressed cashiers. I'm not really used to this high class stuff. Our first stop was the Toyota show room, since Toyota factory is close to Nagoya. I got to see all the new top-of-the-line cars on display as well as see the history of the maker. But personally my favorite part was the bathroom, the toilets were pretty much lined with gold, and all that jazz. After the car stop, we went into a Tiffany's Jewlery store, where I got in trouble for touching the hanging stones. It was really a museum which held pieces from princesses and other famous people throughout the century. Not to say that that wasn't interesting, but it just wasn't my kind of thing. Probably because I was the only one wearing jeans, and with no intention in the world of buying a silly piece of jewelery for a trillion dollars. After the shopping crusade, Yurie and Yuhko had to leave. Yuhko's University was having an "Open University" for perspective students, and Yurie wanted to check it out. So Sae, Yuki, and Me went for lunch at a Soy Restaurant. The menu looked extremely edible, but I can't stand Soy and Tofu and that crap. I ordered a Curry Rice, which is like the ultimate party food. I think I was beginning to rebel against the rich system... haha. While we waited, and later ate, Sae toldme how well my Japanese had progressed. I have to admit, it isn't bad, but it certianly isn't very good. Then she told me that April of last year, the American girl in Japan only spoke English. That was shocking for me, because I only speak Japanese here, even though it is never well. AFter lunch, Yuki ordered a Green Tea Pudding, while a I got Soy Mocha Coffee. How weird is that? Back in the station, we jumped a train line bound for the central part of the city. We got off just below this enormous metal space ship thing covered in water. I had seen pictures of it, so I asked Sae to let me check it out. Backgrounded by the Nagoya TV tower, this odd shaped building/fountain thing was a very interesting place to walk around. Sae informed me that at night, it became the perfect date spot with the romantic view of the city. Our next planned stop was the Robot Museum. Now call me crazy, but having a Robot Museum is just a little bit ironic, no? I mean how long have they been around that they need a museum.. haha. Yuki and I took lots of pictures as we walked around and looked at all the robots. One robot was a Guiness World Record holder for being the most tender robot in the world. When you say it's name it resonds and acts like it loves you and what not. I thought it was scary, and I couldn't help but notice that it's Japanese far surpassed that of mine. haha. In the Star Wars area, Darth Yuki and I had a light saber fight. I'm pretty sure I got smoked. WHen we had walked through the entire place, we next went to the giant ferris wheel located right in the middle of the city. The ferris wheel is actually on the side of this huge shopping area, and in the area is a Ramen Village and the very first Pachinko Parlor in Japan. I couldn't help but feel lucky about being able to see the very first Pachinko place, after all there are about 300 places in Kochi. Yeah for Gambling on slot balls! haha. The ride was extremely slow, and we only went around once. But I got to look out the beautiful city of Nagoya. It really is alot like Kochi plus 9.7 million more people. But seriously both cities have a city look with a country feel. This is because Nagoyas prefecture, Aichi, and Kochi prefecture, Kochi, are lush countrysides outside the main city. As we got to te higest point of the ferris wheel, Sae pointed out Yuhko's mansion, an the immense shopping area. So that when it was finished, we headed back for some more shopping. At the shopping center, I made a decision, in irder to get the Hirosues to stop trying me to buy everything, I bought the Underwear jeans. And now 2 weeks later, I don't regret it all. They made me look and feel great, and I was content buying them. Yuhko eventually met up with us, while Sae left to check on Yurie back at the mansion. Yuki and I, who had both purchases, were eligible for one of those silly shopping lotteries. The ironic part was that I actually won! Well, I won a box of chocolate balls, but it was still pretty lucky. I stayed wth Yuhko and Yuki as they continued their shopping, and then trekked back with them when it was time for dinner. I wasn't really all that hungry, mostly just nervous. Looking at the clock, I knew that my Mom and Nana had just boarded the plane bound for Tokyo. Uh oh. haha. I didn't sleep very well that night because I was too excited. The following morning I would be going with the Masakis to Universal Studios, and then meeting Mom and Nana in Kyoto. You can't tell me that's not exciting.

Hesashiburi- Kyoto Day 1

7 1/2 months is not exactly a short period of time. I had not seem my family since August 15, 2006, except for the rare occasion of a webcam. I had talked to them though. With my first host family, I called once a week. The second host family was once a month. While my current host family allows me to call once every 2 or 3 weeks. All of this on top of the simple fact that I had last seen them nearly 8 months ago, gives me a good reason as to why I was sooo incredibly nervous about meeting them in Kyoto. On the train from Osaka to Kyoto (See Universal Studios JAPAN!) I sat in pure horror imagining what may have happened to them. They had landed in Tokyo at 2 and were supposed to get on the Shinkhansen at 5. But I assumed that they would take a long time getting to Tokyo Station, exchanging for a Rail Pass, and collecting their luggage. We all reckoned they'd be in Kyoto at 8 or 9. That is if they made it to Kyoto. Because let's face it, the Japanese train systems are difficult if your don't understand them. Plus it would be such a long travel for them. I was really worried, on top of being nervous to see them. At around 7:20, my cell phone suddenly began ringing. We all expected the worse. Masaki Otosan admitted he expected them to be calling from Tokyo about how to do everything. I feared they's gotten lost in the city of Tokyo, which is something so easily done and difficult to get out of. Actually I really expected them to be calling from China or something. Instead the voice shouted, "Where are you?" I answered the train from Osaka to Kyoto, where was she? I nearly choked when she said they'd been waiting in Kyoto station for me and that they were pissed I wasn't there. Masaki Otosan did choke, however. I couldn't help but admire the fact that my Mom and Nana had actually made it with no troubles. The final 15 minutes of the ride, were the weirdest of all my time in Japan. You see, I really haven't spent any time thinking about my home and family. I haven't missed them because I haven't even thought about them. I've just been my own person this year. But now that I was thinking about them, I began to realize just how much I missed them. Most people would kill to have what I have had in the past year. Lots of freedom, and no parental figure to knock you down once in awhile. And though it's been great, all I wanted was my mom in those minutes. I'm not sure that that makes much sense at all. When the train arrived, I got out quickly, hauling along my heavy backpack, and a nervous stomachache. Masaki Otosan asked around, and discovered the McDonalds was on the other side of the ENORMOUS Kyoto Station. So we searched and looked, all the while I anxiously waited to spot them. And then I saw the McDonalds down a long crowded corridor, with 2 familiar faces waiting out front. "MOM!?!?" I screamed and then went sprinting to the woman. My Mom turned and threw out her arms in a hug. She was crying as soon as I reached her, while I noticed my Nana hanging back. My Mom did all the things mothers are supposed to do. Endless hugs, compliments, and smiles. One of the first things I said to her was, "Hesashiburi is Japanese means long time, no see." She ignored it, but that's what I really wanted to say. You see I had planned this occasion in my mind. It was supposed to be them walking out the Train gate and me waiting for them. Not the other way around. The Masaki's had caught up to us, and I introduced them to my Mother and Nana. Naoko is famous in my American family, because she really is my big sister. My Mom was so pleased to meet her, as well as my first host family. She had heard soo much about them, because I really do love them and often talk about them on this webpage. The funniest thing about the meeting was when Masaki Otosan went to help with the backages and saw how much they had, and screamed. It was just one of those typical Masaki things you know. I had planned on taking the Subway to the hotel, but after we realized it was going to be way too hard, a cab was hauled. I said goodbye to the Masaki's and thanked them for the absolutely wonderful day I had been given the opportunity to experience as well as helping my Nana with her GIGANTIC luggage. Nana and mom broke a bunch of Japanese rules as they gave the Masaki's hugs. And with that we got into the cab heading for the Kyoto Travelers Inn. We drove throw the dark streets of Kyoto. Mom and Nana told me what hell they went through to get here, how McDonalds sucks here, and how tired they really were. I told them a little bit about Nagoya and Osaka and the Masaki's. When we got to the hotel for check in, my Nana almost died. This is because we were placed on the fourth floor of the hotel. Oh right, no elevators. Finally in the room, the woman took showers and got ready for bed. My Nana took some sleeping pills and busted into her American candy. The reunion found things exactly the way I remembered, especially when we laughed so hard and my Nana wet herself. Yes I'm serious about that one. I think sleep came at a relief for these two traveling jetlaggers.

Osaka Yo!

I was up at 5, dressed and done with the morning routine. I was still in Nagoya with the Hirosue family (see Nagoya Love) with plans of boarding the 8:30 Shinkhansen (Bullet Train) bound for Shin-Osaka, where I would be meeting my first host family, the Masaki`s. When I was all packed I walked outside my room, where Sae was ready to take me to Nagoya Station, via Subway. She informed me that Yurie was far too sick to be joining me. Then with an extremely worried expression, she told me I would be boarding the Shinkhansen alone. Just for reference, Japan doesn't distinguish teenage years. You are a child from birth to age 20, and an adult from there on out. I'm always being treated like a child, which I don't mind too much. But I can get on and off a train with no problem. At the station, Sae tried to buy a ticket just to show me what place I should board the train. But I wouldn't let her. Sure this was my first time on a Shinkhansen by myself, but I know it can't be that hard. Right? On the train, I found a seat, and emailed Naoko on the cell phone, that I was leaving. She emailed me back that everyone was waiting for me, though due to some excessive fog, they might be running a little bit late. The night before, Masaki Otosan called me to tell me that he would be joining me in Osaka. Apparently that recent Gaijin murder in Northern Japan, shook everyone a little bit into really worrying about me. When I got off at the Chuo Exit, Masaki Otosan found me and hauled me into the other exit, where Naoko gave me a much needed hug. I bought another train ticket bound for Osaka Station, then from their bound for Universal Studios Japan. The train was pretty much a living sardine can, and if I didn't have my backpack, which forced more space for me, I would have surely been stamped to death. The bad part was that everyone seemed to be going to the Universal Studios Japan. I can't say it wasn't expected though, it was after all Spring Break and a Sunday. At the Universal City Station, we exited and were immediatly greeted by the bright colored City Walk. Naoko and I took some pictures with the Takoyaki Dude, who was rather cute. Then we went straight into the gates. While the Masaki's waited on the world's longest line, I went to find a locker to put my luggage in because my back was throbbing. Naoko and I then took some pictures of the famous Universal Studios revolving globe. When the line finally brought Masaki Otosan up front, he bought all the tickets plus some fast passes. I wanted to buy my own ticket, because those were the original plans, so I felt horrible when he handed me my ticket. I even tried to pay him back, but he wouldn't except it. Inside the small version of Universal Studios, the Masakis looked for a place to eat Breakfast. hey settled on pizza at 11 in the morning, and I even had a slice. After breakfast, we decided to use out fast passes to get onto the Spider Man ride. It was only 11:30 in the morning, and already the line was about 2 hours longs. But with our passes, we got on in only about 5 minutes. The ride was really awesome, but I couldn't help having themost fun and listening to everyone's favorite super hero. He is not only strong, cute (Tobey MaGuire that is :)) but he is also fluent in Japanese. So are the bad guys, though. Hmmm... something isn't quite right here. The ride was like one of those 3D adventures, but it was really cool. The ride picture found me looking a total show off. While the Masaki's were screaming their heads off I had my hands up and laughing at them. When we exited the ride, we next headed for the large crowd accummulating by the main square. We then watched the Happy Harmony Parade (how corney a name is that!?!?) Basically the four most popular Universal Studio Venues, Peanuts, Hello Kitty, Shrek, and Sesame Street, had floats and characters driving around the streets. They did a dance to 'We Are Family' and then did individual acts. I know I have said this before, especially when I went to Disney, but when I see a popular charcter, that I had known to speak English, perfectly conversing in Japanese, I get all mixed up. Mostly I just laugh, but hearing Shrek and Charlie Brown, really made me freaked. haha. We didn't stay for the whole parade, because it looked as if about to rain. Rain would mean shutting down the new Roller Coaster, Hollywood Dream, which I had been eyeing since we entered the park. The wait time, 3 hours, was quickly surpassed with out past passes. We actually got on the sucker in 2 whole minutes. Now everyone who knows me, knows that I am crazy. I was 18 months old when I first went on a roller coaster, ever since then I've been addicted. The only problem is that in Japan, big scary roller coasters don't usually exist. But I got lucky today. The ride was short, but quite awesome. I laughed and held my hands up the whole time. Masaki Otosan has this one-of-kind laugh, that he used throughout the ride, while Naoko and Okasan Masaki tried not to be scared to death. When the ride was over, the Masakis announced that even though they always knew it, I truly am mentally insane. And that they would never EVER in a million year go on that ride again. I secretly plotted how to get them on again. Maybe I really am insane. Our next fast pass was good on the Jaws ride, so we walked to the area thememed like Amity from the movie. This time the line was so long, that our fast passes made us wait a full 12 minutes. But before that we got the obligatory Shark picture, seen below. KOWAI! The ride was a little strange, with just mainly us sitting on a boat getting attacked by a giant automatic shark. It was a relief for my feet, which were throbbing. When it was done with, we went to Jurassic Park and rode the very very awesome rafting ride. The only problem was that it was our last fast pass, and we still had plenty more to do. The dinosaurs actually looked pretty real. But the best part was the T-rex right at the end before the ginormous drop. Naoko got soaked, while I just got a little bit wet. I don't think she forgave me for that one, because I was supposed to sit in her spot. But when it was time to board I kind of pushed her in front of me, when I saw the huge puddle under her seat. haha. When it was done, we took some more pictures, and then a little break. Everyone was getting tired, so Masaki Otosan came up with the idea for us to watch the Waterworld show. Now I've never seen the movie, but I have to say it was better in Japanese! First we waited for about an hour and half, because there were no fastpasses for that. But when we got in, Masaki Otosan insisted we sit in the last row of the 'Splash Zone' His throy was because it was the last spot, we would get wet. When will I ever learn to never listen to this man? The main guy came around with buckets and kept throwing them at kids. Naoko, finally drying from the Jurassic Park ride, grabbed my arm, and said, we are in this together.' And yet, when the main guy came around with a big full bucket, Naoko became a shield. Big sisters are good for advice and water shields.haha. Though we got lucky because I think my gaijinity scared him away. The show was awesome, and like I said it, better in Japanese. The actors were all gaijin, so it was weird to see them speak, but I soon realized that it wasn't them speaking at all. When it was over, Naoko declared it was time for dessert, so we headed for the Pink Cafe in the middle of the park. Naoko and I both got smoothies, while the parents got large Pink Panther Ice Creams. Masaki otosan may as well adopt the slogan 'real men like pink.' After our dessert break, the clock said we had some more time for whatever ride we wanted to go on. Backdrop the Movie only had a 1 hour wait, so we got in line. The wait was long and tiring, and I seemed to be glued to my cell phone in hopes of hearing from my Mom. We all talked about how quickly these past 7 and 1/2 months have come and gone. And we laughed at the fact that when I arrived I didn't speak any Japanese. The Masaki's also told me that they expected me to get off the airplane 100 pounds heavier. That's pretty funny. The show wasn't very interesting, with just Ron Howard, the director of the movie talking in Japanese about the dangers of fire. Then he talked about how he filmed the movie. The last part of the ride, was an abandoned chemical warehouse, suddenly catching on fire and having explosions and stuff. The scariest part was when the roof fell in on us. Even I screamed. By the time the ride was over, the clock was getting late. Late meaning, 8ish is when my Mom planned on arriving at the station. We still had to eat a famous Osaka dinner, and catch the train. We took a big chance, getting in line for the ET ride, which was an hour wait. But amazingly enough, because we went in singles, we got on the ride in 10 minutes. And even better, Naoko and Me got to stay together. BEfore you get on the ride, you are supposed to tell the workers your name, which was weird. But then we got on th ride, and I understood why. ET's adventure took us through the forest adn then onto his home planet. I thought it was too corney for words. And then as you are about to get off, the king alien thing says 'Sayonara (your name)' Except nobody in Japan can say my name right, so this funny little alien said, 'Sayonara Judie!' Lovely right? With more time then we planned, I quickly bought some Peanuts presents for friends back home. Then we said goodbye to park and headed back to the main city walk. The Masaki's found a restaurant selling my favorite food and an Osaka speciality, Okonomiacki. It's true, I quickly discovered, that Osaka makes the world's best Okonomiacki. Since it was being cooked right in front of me, I had to touch it and try flipping it, like I do at the reatsurant back at home. The cooks came over and started yelling me to stop, because it would ruin the goodness of it. Reeeaarr... But it was absolutely delicious, and it was sad eating the very last bite, though I did share a lot of it with the Masaki family. When the man came back with the check, I grabbed it before the Masaki's could. They had spent soooo much on my today, and buying dinner was the very least I could do. So when we were finished, got back in the station, and then to Osaka Station, I was so happy. I had just had a wonderful day with my amazing first host family, and they were coming with me to Kyoto to meet my Mom and Nana.

Memoirs of a Gaijin- Kyoto Day 2

After a Western breakfast at the Kyoto Traveler's Inn, Mom, Nana, and Me set out to look for the Company that would be dressing the 3 of us like Maiko's. For those of you who don't know, Maiko are apprentice Geisha. Maiko are apprentice geisha (geiko). To my knowledge they are only found in Kyoto and are often used as the penultimate symbol of Japan. Maiko are a rare breed now, only several at any one time and confined primarily to the Gion and Pontocho districts. While beautiful to look at Maiko are still young girls, so the social mastery they are expected to attain as accomplished Geisha is still not fully formed and Maiko are usually expected to dance, and be seen, and though performing tasks such as filling drinks they are not intended to entertain guests to the same degree as a Geisha. Young girls may become Maiko at 16, under current Japanese law, as all adolescents must attend high school to this age. A Maiko's apprenticeship is usually 5 years, and so at 21 she may become a fully fledged Geisha. (Poor Nana may have been the oldest Maiko in the world-ever.) Back in the city, we couldn't find the place right away, so Mom and Nana headed back to the hotel, while I stayed behind to search. At 9:30, I returned to pick them up, and then we set out again. The place, a traditional Japanese building with pretty wood and a symbol of Maiko, beckoned us down the road. Inside, we were greeted by one Japanese woman, who spoke no English whatsoever. She told us to take off our clothes and change into the under garmet, a white undershirt type outfit. Then we were told to go down these steep steps to wash our faces, so that the paint would be able to stick better. We followed the directions perfectly. And when we filed out of the bathroom, another Japanese woman, who spoke wonderful English, directed us back upstairs to begin. Nana, Mom, and I sat down in comfortable positions on a Tatemi floor, while the 2 Japanese woman began the task of turning us into Maiko. They began with placing out hair into thick bonnets, with some hair hanging out. We were told that this remaining hair would be later sprayed black. Then the woman massaged our backs and began spreading the white paint on the surface of our skin. Nana went first, so that when she was finished Mom and I had to refrain from wetting ourselfves. Her face was a bright white, becasue it was before the final lip and eye makeup was added, while her hair was in silly looking fishnet. I went next, and by the time I was finished, Mom had to hold in her laughter. The only bad part about the white makeup is that it shows ALL of your wrinkles. Poor Mom and Nana. Although I really can't talk, with some bags under my eyes. The woman then next began applying the final touches. First they painted our lips blood red, which actually ended up getting on our teeth. Then they colored in our eyebrows, well at least mine, since mine were so thing. The last thing that they did was draw in a pink poof around our eyes, giving us a look of youth. When we were all done with the face painting, 3 thick and heavy black wigs were placed on 3 big gaijin heads. Maiko have several different hair styles, which indicate the period of their apprenticeship that they have currently reached. Maiko use their own hair for such displays, rather than the wigs that contemporary Geisha wear. It was so uncomfortable and heavy! The whole face painting process took over an hour and half for just the 3 of us. They warned us that this would be the last opportunity for bathroom, because we would next be placed in the Kimono. So the 3 of us, headed back downstairs and hurried to use the bathroom. They we climbed back upstairs and took some funny before shots. One of the best shots was of Nana trying to get the lipstick off her teeth (see below) I started to worry that Mom and Nana were not enjoying this at all. Not to say that it was fun, but it was something I wanted to do for a long time. The Japanese woman returned to the room, and then brought us into another room. There we got to select just which Kimono we would like to wear. Nana selected the first Kimono that was unraveled; a simple Red kimono. Mom went next a picked a pretty fancy pink Kimono. While my choice was that of a beautiful bright blue one. Maiko are easily recognised by their attire. In the Japanese way, as young girls before they become women, the dress of the Maiko is more outlandish than that of the mature Geisha. The Obi and Kimono of a Maiko is brightly coloured and ornately decorated, the Kimono is of the Furisode style (more specifically of the oburisode type kimono) with long flapping sleeves that fall to the floor. The collar of the under-kimono worn by the Maiko is usually of a red and white patterned material, and shows vividly against the white neck of the Maiko. This makes the "changing of the collar" ceremony (from patterned to plain white) the coming of age ceremony when a Maiko becomes a Geiko rather obvious. The Obi of a Maiko is also much longer, and tied in an ornate style rather than the box knots common in the Obi of both Geisha and other Japanese women. The Obi is tied much higher on a Maiko, coming high into the arm pit, with the knot reaching almost to the collar, with the ends falling to the floor. So when they began the tying of Kimono on Mom and Nana, I made sure to warn them to take one final good air of breath. Sure enough when Nana was finished with, she asked me if the Maiko learned not how to breath. I've always sort of wondered that actually. Downstairs, our final task was to pick the hairpieces for the wig. I chose a yellow flowered piece that went well with my Kimono. When the 3 of us were all suited up in Kimono, it was time for our 30 minutes. In the package we were given 30 minutes to do just about anything we want. Since the Maiko footwear is that of the large platformed wooden shoes, which taper to a smaller point on the sole, called Okobo. Okobo usually force a young Maiko to take very small steps, which is considered attractive by Japanese tradition. Mom and Nana would never be able to walk very far in those suckers. Actually, even I have had loads of trouble walking in them, with bruised knees to prove it. The Japanese owner suggested some pictures at a tiny Shrine just 5 minutes away from the building. Nana was such a good sport, as we trekked toward the beautiful minature shrine. Walking under the Torii gates, and into the sacred area, the Japanese ladies took many photographs of Mom, Nana, and I. But they weren't the only ones. Since are a really rare bred, many tourists assumed that because we were dressed us in the costumes, that we were Maiko. But then the 3 of us are about as Maiko as a can of Tuna, so the jokes on them. The pictures came out brilliantly, and we walked back to take more inside the studio we had just come from. It's really a great thing to see 3 generations of my family, none of which have a drop of Japanese blood, and yet still dressed in beautiful traditional clothes of Japan. Even Nana turned to me and said that she was very glad we got to do this experience. When our time was over, back upstairs, we quickly took off the Kimono. Nana and Mom took deep breaths and I reminded them to not take it for granted. The owners soon took the paint off our back, but we were on our orn for the face and hair paint. Downstairs again, Nana and Mom fought with the faucet and the paint in an effort to get all the stuff off. I had a bit of an easy time, because I didn't really try all that hard. Actually for the rest of the day I pretty much walked around with the white paint on my face. All in all, the experience was truly incredible. I don't know if I would do it again, but I think I did it once and am happy for the experience. It's just something you have to do once in your life, especially if you come to Japan. These are the Memoirs of a Gaijin... haha

North Kyoto and the Night Lights- Kyoto Day 2

After the morning spent becoming Kyoto Maiko, Mom and Nana were really tired. Right outside the Maiko shop, the 3 of us went to the bank to exchange Traveler's checks, since nowhere in Kyoto actually takes them. Afterwards Nana and Mom planned on hitting the McDonalds, which I had no intent on doing. While Mom haggled with the bank man, I said my goodbyes with only a map and a few Yen. Immediately outside the bank, I knocked on the window of a moving cab. The driver took one look at me, smiled and opened the door. I told him in Japanese to take me to the Ninnaji temple complex, and he was immediately impressed that I spoke Japanese. The 15 minute ride was filled with Japanese jokes and my talking about my life in Japan. It was quite a relief for me to be back with the Japanese I have come to know and love, the friendly, cheery, and kind people back in Kochi. Because after yesterday's incident with the other cab driver who refused to drive us because we were foreign, I had begun to forget. When I told the driver I was 16, he nearly wet himself. For one he could not believe that a tall, Japanese speaking, mature looking girl could be only 16. He also couldn't believe I was going out alone. But I told I didn't really give my Mom much of a choice, and he laughed alot. He was such a nice man, and he reminded me alot of my first host father, Mr. Masaki. When we pulled up to the Ninnaji complex, the driver gave me a few Yen off the cost, so that it was an equal 2000 yen. He also got out of the cab and showed me around the entrance, giving me some interesting facts on the complex. Sometimes I don't think people understand why I could love a place like Japan. And in many ways, it is strange beyond words, but then I meet people like my first and third host families, Koto friends, and random Kyoto taxi drivers, and I don't understand how anyone could not love Japan. The driver couldn't stay long because he was off duty soon, though he would have given me a whole tour of the area if I asked him to.　I was then on my own, far from the hotel, and in an area I knew little about except for a bus schedule map, which was given to me by the Maiko shop owners. I wasn't worried in the least, but thrilled by the independence. So I walked through the second gates and entered the Ninna-ji complex. I was first struck by these huge statue monster things that greeted me at the entrance. Kongorikishi (Ungyo) is the left side guard at Ninnaji Temple's main gate. I don't know if it's really a protector, but it would certainly scare little kids away. Ninna-ji is a large Omura-ha Shingon Buddhist temple complex in eastern Kyoto, founded in 888 by the retired Emperor Uda. From 888 to 1869 it was traditional for reigning Emperors to send a son to the temple to take over as head priest when a vacancy arose. But like everything else in Kyoto, fires ravaged the building from time to time. Most of today's buildings in the complex date from the 17th century, and include a five-story pagoda and a plantation of dwarf cherry trees. The temple itself features some beautifully painted screen walls, and a beautiful walled garden. In front of the pagoda I took the obligatory peace shot, followed by some pictures of myself. They didn't come out very good, because I still had paint all over the sides of my face from the Maiko costumes. After I explored most of the temple grounds, I left the complex and followed the giant tour buses heading for Ryoan-ji. It was a long walk up the hill, and when I arrived, there were huge tour groups massing at the gates. But it didn't matter once I got inside.　After a brief walk through the garden, I headed for main attraction. You have to be truly into it, to understand the beauty of Ryoan-ji. To many, the temple's name is synonymous with the temple's famous karesansui, rock garden, thought to have been built in the late 1400s. The garden consists of raked gravel and fifteen moss-covered boulders, which are placed so that, when looking at the garden from any angle, only fourteen of the boulders are visible at one time. It is traditionally said that only through attaining enlightenment would one be able to view the fifteenth boulder. Well, I can't say I saw that 15th boulder. The longer you stare at it, the more your imagination runs wild. That is a description, but to understand its effect, and its purity, you have to go there. The design generates tension, drawing the viewer to contemplate the mystery of Zen. It can't be photographed in entirety, the dimensions could drive any photographer to distraction, but thats the beauty of it. All you can do is just put the camera away, sit down and contemplate it. Especially when you realize that no matter where you sit, you will only see 14 of the rocks at any one time. The longer you sit, the more the garden fascinates. The branches of the trees beyond the earthen wall with its peculiar but natural designs are "borrowed scenery" - they bend and straighten, they cast fantastic shadows with the moss that fills the pocks and spaces in the rocks. The raked lines are circles around the rock groups and yet straight elsewhere - and you will love how the lines stop without a single misplaced pebble when they touch the circular patterns, and then resume unchanged beyond them as if the rocks are islands. It changes with the seasons - cherry trees beyond the wall blooming in spring, snow clinging to the moss in the winter. It is never the same twice. And although the rocks do not move, there is something about those spaces between the rocks. Good lord, Zen drives people mad! After my enlightening experience, I filed out of the building and met an Australian couple from Brisbane. I told them about my exchange, and they invited me for some Green Tea with them. I can now officially say I have another couch to sleep on when I return to Australia! Departing the complex, I took the very long walk to Kinkakuji. When I arrived, the tour buses seemed to be leaving, and the complex had suddenyl become pretty quiet. Inside, I witnessed the golden splendor of the GoldPavillion. Kinkakuji is noteworthy for its rather magnificent Kinkaku or Golden Pavilion in its golden splendor, and the pond on which it sits surrounds it in a very tranquil setting. Kinkakuji's official name is actually Rokuonji. But the Golden Pavilion has given the temple the more popular name of Kinkaku-ji. It was constructed in the 12th century as a new residence for shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu upon retirement. When he passed away, it was converted into a Zen temple. The Golden Pavilion houses several sacred relics of the Buddha and is covered in real gold. The present building dates from 1955, because a fire, set by a crazy monk, destroyed the original building in 1950. Most people I talk to either love or hate the temple. They love it because of of it's beauty, or hate it because of it's crowd and being overrated. My opinion was somewhere in the middle. I think for a first timer to Kyoto, the structure is a must-see. It is really beautiful, but for how crowded the place was, and that's even after the main tour buses had left, it was somewhat unworth it. I pretty much had to fight through a mass of people for a few clear shots. But I'm glad I did it. I wanted to explore the area around the Pavillion, but it was too crowded. Instead I headed for the exit and and hailed a cab. I would have asked him to take me directly back to the hotel, but I was feeling cheap, so I settled for halfway. The driver, not as friendly as the man from the morning, dropped my off at the west exit of the former Imperial Goshi, or palace. Kyoto Imperial Palace used to be the residence of Japan's Imperial Family until 1868, when the emperor and capital were moved from Kyoto to Tokyo. It is located in the spacious Kyoto Imperial Park. The palace burnt down and was moved around the city several times over the centuries. The present reconstruction dates from 1855. The palace complex is enclosed by a long wall and consists of several gates, halls and gardens. It was weird for me to see some college kids throwing a Frisbee in land that used to belong to the sacred Imperial family. The Gion district is across the river from the main downtown. It's a beautiful well-preserved area which has kept the same atmosphere for a long time. There are numerous temples in that small area and the many stoned paved roads lined up with tiny inns, restaurants and shops. Although it's supposed to be the Geisha district, we didn't see any that night. Pontocho-dori is a narrow little lane east of Kawaramachi-dori and west of the Kamo river. The lane is hemmed in by restaurants and craft shops. It is particularly atmospheric at night when the eateries have red lanterns outside their doors. Unfortunately, our experience in Pontocho was not a good one. Located in a beautiful part of Higashiyama Ward, Kodaiji sits atop a slight hill. It was established in 1605 by the legendary Nene, the wife of the late Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and financed by Tokugawa Ieyasu. Much of the complex was destroyed in 1789 by fire. Mom and I visited it at nighttime. Within the temple grounds, there is a bamboo grove that lights up spectacularly at night Back To Julie in Japanland... Around and About Kyoto April 3, 2007After the morning spent becoming Kyoto Maiko, Mom and Nana were really tired. Right outside the Maiko shop, the 3 of us went to the bank to exchange Traveler's checks, since nowhere in Kyoto actually takes them. Afterwards Nana and Mom planned on hitting the McDonalds, which I had no intent on doing. While Mom haggled with the bank man, I said my goodbyes with only a map and a few Yen. Immediately outside the bank, I knocked on the window of a moving cab. The driver took one look at me, smiled and opened the door. I told him in Japanese to take me to the Ninnaji temple complex, and he was immediately impressed that I spoke Japanese. The 15 minute ride was filled with Japanese jokes and my talking about my life in Japan. It was quite a relief for me to be back with the Japanese I have come to know and love, the friendly, cheery, and kind people back in Kochi. Because after yesterday's incident with the other cab driver who refused to drive us because we were foreign, I had begun to forget. When I told the driver I was 16, he nearly wet himself. For one he could not believe that a tall, Japanese speaking, mature looking girl could be only 16. He also couldn't believe I was going out alone. But I told I didn't really give my Mom much of a choice, and he laughed alot. He was such a nice man, and he reminded me alot of my first host father, Mr. Masaki. When we pulled up to the Ninnaji complex, the driver gave me a few Yen off the cost, so that it was an equal 2000 yen. He also got out of the cab and showed me around the entrance, giving me some interesting facts on the complex. Sometimes I don't think people understand why I could love a place like Japan. And in many ways, it is strange beyond words, but then I meet people like my first and third host families, Koto friends, and random Kyoto taxi drivers, and I don't understand how anyone could not love Japan. The driver couldn't stay long because he was off duty soon, though he would have given me a whole tour of the area if I asked him to.　I was then on my own, far from the hotel, and in an area I knew little about except for a bus schedule map, which was given to me by the Maiko shop owners. I wasn't worried in the least, but thrilled by the independence. So I walked through the second gates and entered the Ninna-ji complex. I was first struck by these huge statue monster things that greeted me at the entrance. Kongorikishi (Ungyo) is the left side guard at Ninnaji Temple's main gate. I don't know if it's really a protector, but it would certainly scare little kids away. Ninna-ji is a large Omura-ha Shingon Buddhist temple complex in eastern Kyoto, founded in 888 by the retired Emperor Uda. From 888 to 1869 it was traditional for reigning Emperors to send a son to the temple to take over as head priest when a vacancy arose. But like everything else in Kyoto, fires ravaged the building from time to time. Most of today's buildings in the complex date from the 17th century, and include a five-story pagoda and a plantation of dwarf cherry trees. The temple itself features some beautifully painted screen walls, and a beautiful walled garden. In front of the pagoda I took the obligatory peace shot, followed by some pictures of myself. They didn't come out very good, because I still had paint all over the sides of my face from the Maiko costumes. After I explored most of the temple grounds, I left the complex and followed the giant tour buses heading for Ryoan-ji. It was a long walk up the hill, and when I arrived, there were huge tour groups massing at the gates. But it didn't matter once I got inside.　After a brief walk through the garden, I headed for main attraction. You have to be truly into it, to understand the beauty of Ryoan-ji. To many, the temple's name is synonymous with the temple's famous karesansui, rock garden, thought to have been built in the late 1400s. The garden consists of raked gravel and fifteen moss-covered boulders, which are placed so that, when looking at the garden from any angle, only fourteen of the boulders are visible at one time. It is traditionally said that only through attaining enlightenment would one be able to view the fifteenth boulder. Well, I can't say I saw that 15th boulder. The longer you stare at it, the more your imagination runs wild. That is a description, but to understand its effect, and its purity, you have to go there. The design generates tension, drawing the viewer to contemplate the mystery of Zen. It can't be photographed in entirety, the dimensions could drive any photographer to distraction, but thats the beauty of it. All you can do is just put the camera away, sit down and contemplate it. Especially when you realize that no matter where you sit, you will only see 14 of the rocks at any one time. The longer you sit, the more the garden fascinates. The branches of the trees beyond the earthen wall with its peculiar but natural designs are "borrowed scenery" - they bend and straighten, they cast fantastic shadows with the moss that fills the pocks and spaces in the rocks. The raked lines are circles around the rock groups and yet straight elsewhere - and you will love how the lines stop without a single misplaced pebble when they touch the circular patterns, and then resume unchanged beyond them as if the rocks are islands. It changes with the seasons - cherry trees beyond the wall blooming in spring, snow clinging to the moss in the winter. It is never the same twice. And although the rocks do not move, there is something about those spaces between the rocks. Good lord, Zen drives people mad! After my Zen enlightnment, I followed a Aussie Old people tour to the exit. I met an elderly couple from Brisbane, who invited me for Tea. I told themabout my exchange, and how one of my dearest friends in the world is from Townsville. They got a kick out of the fact that I had been to Brisbane before, but only saw the giant mall. When Tea was finished, I had another couch to sleep on for when I return to Australia. I think I'm going to make that my life goal, have a couch in every country. haha. Back on my own, I decided to follow to LONG uphill path to the world famous Kinkakuji. Along the way I passed through touristy areas and college apartments. The road became narrow and filled with people speaking many different languages. I finally arrived at the gates of the famous Golden Pavillion and entered with the huge masses of people. Kinkakuji is noteworthy for its rather magnificent Kinkaku or Golden Pavilion in its golden splendor, and the pond on which it sits surrounds it in a very tranquil setting. Kinkakuji's official name is actually Rokuonji. But the Golden Pavilion has given the temple the more popular name of Kinkaku-ji. It was constructed in the 12th century as a new residence for shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu upon retirement. When he passed away, it was converted into a Zen temple. The Golden Pavilion houses several sacred relics of the Buddha and is covered in real gold. The present building dates from 1955, because a fire, set by a crazy monk, destroyed the original building in 1950. For all the people who have talked about the Golden Pavillion with me, I have noted that it is either loved ot hated. Hated because it is overrated and crowded with toursts. This is true, and I virtually had to push through the crowds to get the few pictures I have below. Loved because no matter how crowded, the temple is truly stunning with it shimmering golden reflection in the pond. My opinion is somewhere in the middle. For a first timer to Kyoto, the temple is a must. All in all, I was glad that I saw it. After I simply toured the grounds, fighting through the heavy crowds on every step, I made my way for the exit, stopping only to get my fortune in English. I was lucky it actually said, "You should be traveling, as it is your lucky time time to experience something new." Almost made me want to believe the little bugger. At the exit, I hailed a cab, and decided I didn't want to pay that much money for a ride back to the hotel. The driver wasn't quite as friendly, so I settled for halfway, the Imperial Gosho, or former Palace of the Imperial family. You actually need to plan ahead and get a reservation to tour the palace. Back in February, when I briefly contemplated exploring it, I decided against it. And I didn't regret my decision, it was better to just walk along it's outer walls. Kyoto Imperial Palace used to be the residence of Japan's Imperial Family until 1868, when the emperor and capital were moved from Kyoto to Tokyo. It is located in the spacious Kyoto Imperial Park. The palace burnt down and was moved around the city several times over the centuries. The present reconstruction dates from 1855. The palace complex is enclosed by a long wall and consists of several gates, halls and gardens. It was weird for me to see some college kids throwing a Frisbee in land that used to belong to the sacred Imperial family. But times really have changed I guess. The stroll along side the Sakura was very nice, but as i reached the main exit, I began to wonder just how I was going to get back. The walk was much too far, and I was too cheap to pay for a cab. But that's when I discovered that I could in fact read the Kanji on the bus schedules. And I, Julie Garner, a girl who was once intimidated by the direct New York City bus, got on headed for a place that I prayed was close to the hotel. And my prayers came true (thank god!) I reached the stop, and had a bried walk along side the Canal, Heian-Jingu, and Sakura trees. Hungry, I stopped for a late lunch of Korean pickles, called Kimuchi, then returned to the hotel. Inside the room,　I woke up my sleeping Mother and Nana and bugged them to get ready. They had promised that if they caught up on some sleep, they would be able to do some nighttime temple touring. We left the hotel at around 5, headed for a place I had only heard about in Myth's, Gion's Pontocho street. The walk brought us alongside a cushing river, under the Pink flowers of the Sakura, and into the crowded Gion district filled with tourists hoping to spot a Maiko or Geisha scurrying to an appointment. Darkness settled in on Kyoto, and soon the streets were lit up and bright, filled with faces from around the world. We headed down the green and white Sanjo-street, over a lit up bridge, all the while taking the the gorgeous lights from the shops. The Gion district is across the river from the main downtown. It's a beautiful well-preserved area which has kept the same atmosphere for a long time. There are numerous temples in that small area and the many stoned paved roads lined up with tiny inns, restaurants and shops. Although it's supposed to be the Geisha district, we didn't see any that night. Pontocho-dori is a narrow little lane east of Kawaramachi-dori and west of the Kamo river. The lane is hemmed in by restaurants and craft shops. It is particularly atmospheric at night when the eateries have red lanterns outside their doors. Unfortunately, our experience in Pontocho was not a good one. Located in a beautiful part of Higashiyama Ward, Kodaiji sits atop a slight hill. It was established in 1605 by the legendary Nene, the wife of the late Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and financed by Tokugawa Ieyasu. Much of the complex was destroyed in 1789 by fire. Mom and I visited it at nighttime. Within the temple grounds, there is a bamboo grove that lights up spectacularly at night Back To Julie in Japanland... Around and About Kyoto April 3, 2007After the morning spent becoming Kyoto Maiko, Mom and Nana were really tired. Right outside the Maiko shop, the 3 of us went to the bank to exchange Traveler's checks, since nowhere in Kyoto actually takes them. Afterwards Nana and Mom planned on hitting the McDonalds, which I had no intent on doing. While Mom haggled with the bank man, I said my goodbyes with only a map and a few Yen. Immediately outside the bank, I knocked on the window of a moving cab. The driver took one look at me, smiled and opened the door. I told him in Japanese to take me to the Ninnaji temple complex, and he was immediately impressed that I spoke Japanese. The 15 minute ride was filled with Japanese jokes and my talking about my life in Japan. It was quite a relief for me to be back with the Japanese I have come to know and love, the friendly, cheery, and kind people back in Kochi. Because after yesterday's incident with the other cab driver who refused to drive us because we were foreign, I had begun to forget. When I told the driver I was 16, he nearly wet himself. For one he could not believe that a tall, Japanese speaking, mature looking girl could be only 16. He also couldn't believe I was going out alone. But I told I didn't really give my Mom much of a choice, and he laughed alot. He was such a nice man, and he reminded me alot of my first host father, Mr. Masaki. When we pulled up to the Ninnaji complex, the driver gave me a few Yen off the cost, so that it was an equal 2000 yen. He also got out of the cab and showed me around the entrance, giving me some interesting facts on the complex. Sometimes I don't think people understand why I could love a place like Japan. And in many ways, it is strange beyond words, but then I meet people like my first and third host families, Koto friends, and random Kyoto taxi drivers, and I don't understand how anyone could not love Japan. The driver couldn't stay long because he was off duty soon, though he would have given me a whole tour of the area if I asked him to.　I was then on my own, far from the hotel, and in an area I knew little about except for a bus schedule map, which was given to me by the Maiko shop owners. I wasn't worried in the least, but thrilled by the independence. So I walked through the second gates and entered the Ninna-ji complex. I was first struck by these huge statue monster things that greeted me at the entrance. Kongorikishi (Ungyo) is the left side guard at Ninnaji Temple's main gate. I don't know if it's really a protector, but it would certainly scare little kids away. Ninna-ji is a large Omura-ha Shingon Buddhist temple complex in eastern Kyoto, founded in 888 by the retired Emperor Uda. From 888 to 1869 it was traditional for reigning Emperors to send a son to the temple to take over as head priest when a vacancy arose. But like everything else in Kyoto, fires ravaged the building from time to time. Most of today's buildings in the complex date from the 17th century, and include a five-story pagoda and a plantation of dwarf cherry trees. The temple itself features some beautifully painted screen walls, and a beautiful walled garden. In front of the pagoda I took the obligatory peace shot, followed by some pictures of myself. They didn't come out very good, because I still had paint all over the sides of my face from the Maiko costumes. After I explored most of the temple grounds, I left the complex and followed the giant tour buses heading for Ryoan-ji. It was a long walk up the hill, and when I arrived, there were huge tour groups massing at the gates. But it didn't matter once I got inside.　After a brief walk through the garden, I headed for main attraction. You have to be truly into it, to understand the beauty of Ryoan-ji. To many, the temple's name is synonymous with the temple's famous karesansui, rock garden, thought to have been built in the late 1400s. The garden consists of raked gravel and fifteen moss-covered boulders, which are placed so that, when looking at the garden from any angle, only fourteen of the boulders are visible at one time. It is traditionally said that only through attaining enlightenment would one be able to view the fifteenth boulder. Well, I can't say I saw that 15th boulder. The longer you stare at it, the more your imagination runs wild. That is a description, but to understand its effect, and its purity, you have to go there. The design generates tension, drawing the viewer to contemplate the mystery of Zen. It can't be photographed in entirety, the dimensions could drive any photographer to distraction, but thats the beauty of it. All you can do is just put the camera away, sit down and contemplate it. Especially when you realize that no matter where you sit, you will only see 14 of the rocks at any one time. The longer you sit, the more the garden fascinates. The branches of the trees beyond the earthen wall with its peculiar but natural designs are "borrowed scenery" - they bend and straighten, they cast fantastic shadows with the moss that fills the pocks and spaces in the rocks. The raked lines are circles around the rock groups and yet straight elsewhere - and you will love how the lines stop without a single misplaced pebble when they touch the circular patterns, and then resume unchanged beyond them as if the rocks are islands. It changes with the seasons - cherry trees beyond the wall blooming in spring, snow clinging to the moss in the winter. It is never the same twice. And although the rocks do not move, there is something about those spaces between the rocks. Good lord, Zen drives people mad! After my enlightening experience, I filed out of the building and met an Australian couple from Brisbane. I told them about my exchange, and they invited me for some Green Tea with them. I can now officially say I have another couch to sleep on when I return to Australia! Departing the complex, I took the very long walk to Kinkakuji. When I arrived, the tour buses seemed to be leaving, and the complex had suddenyl become pretty quiet. Inside, I witnessed the golden splendor of the GoldPavillion. Kinkakuji is noteworthy for its rather magnificent Kinkaku or Golden Pavilion in its golden splendor, and the pond on which it sits surrounds it in a very tranquil setting. Kinkakuji's official name is actually Rokuonji. But the Golden Pavilion has given the temple the more popular name of Kinkaku-ji. It was constructed in the 12th century as a new residence for shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu upon retirement. When he passed away, it was converted into a Zen temple. The Golden Pavilion houses several sacred relics of the Buddha and is covered in real gold. The present building dates from 1955, because a fire, set by a crazy monk, destroyed the original building in 1950. Most people I talk to either love or hate the temple. They love it because of of it's beauty, or hate it because of it's crowd and being overrated. My opinion was somewhere in the middle. I think for a first timer to Kyoto, the structure is a must-see. It is really beautiful, but for how crowded the place was, and that's even after the main tour buses had left, it was somewhat unworth it. I pretty much had to fight through a mass of people for a few clear shots. But I'm glad I did it. I wanted to explore the area around the Pavillion, but it was too crowded. Instead I headed for the exit and and hailed a cab. I would have asked him to take me directly back to the hotel, but I was feeling cheap, so I settled for halfway. The driver, not as friendly as the man from the morning, dropped my off at the west exit of the former Imperial Goshi, or palace. Kyoto Imperial Palace used to be the residence of Japan's Imperial Family until 1868, when the emperor and capital were moved from Kyoto to Tokyo. It is located in the spacious Kyoto Imperial Park. The palace burnt down and was moved around the city several times over the centuries. The present reconstruction dates from 1855. The palace complex is enclosed by a long wall and consists of several gates, halls and gardens. It was weird for me to see some college kids throwing a Frisbee in land that used to belong to the sacred Imperial family. The Gion district is across the river from the main downtown. It's a beautiful well-preserved area which has kept the same atmosphere for a long time. There are numerous temples in that small area and the many stoned paved roads lined up with tiny inns, restaurants and shops. Although it's supposed to be the Geisha district, we didn't see any that night. Pontocho-dori is a narrow little lane east of Kawaramachi-dori and west of the Kamo river. The lane is hemmed in by restaurants and craft shops. It is particularly atmospheric at night when the eateries have red lanterns outside their doors. Unfortunately, our experience in Pontocho was not a good one. Located in a beautiful part of Higashiyama Ward, Kodaiji sits atop a slight hill. It was established in 1605 by the legendary Nene, the wife of the late Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and financed by Tokugawa Ieyasu. Much of the complex was destroyed in 1789 by fire. Mom and I visited it at nighttime. Within the temple grounds, there is a bamboo grove that lights up spectacularly at night Back To Julie in Japanland... Around and About Kyoto April 3, 2007After the morning spent becoming Kyoto Maiko, Mom and Nana were really tired. Right outside the Maiko shop, the 3 of us went to the bank to exchange Traveler's checks, since nowhere in Kyoto actually takes them. Afterwards Nana and Mom planned on hitting the McDonalds, which I had no intent on doing. While Mom haggled with the bank man, I said my goodbyes with only a map and a few Yen. Immediately outside the bank, I knocked on the window of a moving cab. The driver took one look at me, smiled and opened the door. I told him in Japanese to take me to the Ninnaji temple complex, and he was immediately impressed that I spoke Japanese. The 15 minute ride was filled with Japanese jokes and my talking about my life in Japan. It was quite a relief for me to be back with the Japanese I have come to know and love, the friendly, cheery, and kind people back in Kochi. Because after yesterday's incident with the other cab driver who refused to drive us because we were foreign, I had begun to forget. When I told the driver I was 16, he nearly wet himself. For one he could not believe that a tall, Japanese speaking, mature looking girl could be only 16. He also couldn't believe I was going out alone. But I told I didn't really give my Mom much of a choice, and he laughed alot. He was such a nice man, and he reminded me alot of my first host father, Mr. Masaki. When we pulled up to the Ninnaji complex, the driver gave me a few Yen off the cost, so that it was an equal 2000 yen. He also got out of the cab and showed me around the entrance, giving me some interesting facts on the complex. Sometimes I don't think people understand why I could love a place like Japan. And in many ways, it is strange beyond words, but then I meet people like my first and third host families, Koto friends, and random Kyoto taxi drivers, and I don't understand how anyone could not love Japan. The driver couldn't stay long because he was off duty soon, though he would have given me a whole tour of the area if I asked him to.　I was then on my own, far from the hotel, and in an area I knew little about except for a bus schedule map, which was given to me by the Maiko shop owners. I wasn't worried in the least, but thrilled by the independence. So I walked through the second gates and entered the Ninna-ji complex. I was first struck by these huge statue monster things that greeted me at the entrance. Kongorikishi (Ungyo) is the left side guard at Ninnaji Temple's main gate. I don't know if it's really a protector, but it would certainly scare little kids away. Ninna-ji is a large Omura-ha Shingon Buddhist temple complex in eastern Kyoto, founded in 888 by the retired Emperor Uda. From 888 to 1869 it was traditional for reigning Emperors to send a son to the temple to take over as head priest when a vacancy arose. But like everything else in Kyoto, fires ravaged the building from time to time. Most of today's buildings in the complex date from the 17th century, and include a five-story pagoda and a plantation of dwarf cherry trees. The temple itself features some beautifully painted screen walls, and a beautiful walled garden. In front of the pagoda I took the obligatory peace shot, followed by some pictures of myself. They didn't come out very good, because I still had paint all over the sides of my face from the Maiko costumes. After I explored most of the temple grounds, I left the complex and followed the giant tour buses heading for Ryoan-ji. It was a long walk up the hill, and when I arrived, there were huge tour groups massing at the gates. But it didn't matter once I got inside.　After a brief walk through the garden, I headed for main attraction. You have to be truly into it, to understand the beauty of Ryoan-ji. To many, the temple's name is synonymous with the temple's famous karesansui, rock garden, thought to have been built in the late 1400s. The garden consists of raked gravel and fifteen moss-covered boulders, which are placed so that, when looking at the garden from any angle, only fourteen of the boulders are visible at one time. It is traditionally said that only through attaining enlightenment would one be able to view the fifteenth boulder. Well, I can't say I saw that 15th boulder. The longer you stare at it, the more your imagination runs wild. That is a description, but to understand its effect, and its purity, you have to go there. The design generates tension, drawing the viewer to contemplate the mystery of Zen. It can't be photographed in entirety, the dimensions could drive any photographer to distraction, but thats the beauty of it. All you can do is just put the camera away, sit down and contemplate it. Especially when you realize that no matter where you sit, you will only see 14 of the rocks at any one time. The longer you sit, the more the garden fascinates. The branches of the trees beyond the earthen wall with its peculiar but natural designs are "borrowed scenery" - they bend and straighten, they cast fantastic shadows with the moss that fills the pocks and spaces in the rocks. The raked lines are circles around the rock groups and yet straight elsewhere - and you will love how the lines stop without a single misplaced pebble when they touch the circular patterns, and then resume unchanged beyond them as if the rocks are islands. It changes with the seasons - cherry trees beyond the wall blooming in spring, snow clinging to the moss in the winter. It is never the same twice. And although the rocks do not move, there is something about those spaces between the rocks. Good lord, Zen drives people mad! After my Zen enlightnment, I followed a Aussie Old people tour to the exit. I met an elderly couple from Brisbane, who invited me for Tea. I told themabout my exchange, and how one of my dearest friends in the world is from Townsville. They got a kick out of the fact that I had been to Brisbane before, but only saw the giant mall. When Tea was finished, I had another couch to sleep on for when I return to Australia. I think I'm going to make that my life goal, have a couch in every country. haha. Back on my own, I decided to follow to LONG uphill path to the world famous Kinkakuji. Along the way I passed through touristy areas and college apartments. The road became narrow and filled with people speaking many different languages. I finally arrived at the gates of the famous Golden Pavillion and entered with the huge masses of people. Kinkakuji is noteworthy for its rather magnificent Kinkaku or Golden Pavilion in its golden splendor, and the pond on which it sits surrounds it in a very tranquil setting. Kinkakuji's official name is actually Rokuonji. But the Golden Pavilion has given the temple the more popular name of Kinkaku-ji. It was constructed in the 12th century as a new residence for shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu upon retirement. When he passed away, it was converted into a Zen temple. The Golden Pavilion houses several sacred relics of the Buddha and is covered in real gold. The present building dates from 1955, because a fire, set by a crazy monk, destroyed the original building in 1950. For all the people who have talked about the Golden Pavillion with me, I have noted that it is either loved ot hated. Hated because it is overrated and crowded with toursts. This is true, and I virtually had to push through the crowds to get the few pictures I have below. Loved because no matter how crowded, the temple is truly stunning with it shimmering golden reflection in the pond. My opinion is somewhere in the middle. For a first timer to Kyoto, the temple is a must. All in all, I was glad that I saw it. After I simply toured the grounds, fighting through the heavy crowds on every step, I made my way for the exit, stopping only to get my fortune in English. I was lucky it actually said, "You should be traveling, as it is your lucky time time to experience something new." Almost made me want to believe the little bugger. At the exit, I hailed a cab, and decided I didn't want to pay that much money for a ride back to the hotel. The driver wasn't quite as friendly, so I settled for halfway, the Imperial Gosho, or former Palace of the Imperial family. The walk through the huge park was very peaceful. In order to get a tour of the inside, you need to make a reservation months in advance of the date. When i was planning the trip, i didn't think we would end up getting to the palace, so i didn't bother with a reservation. Kyoto Imperial Palace used to be the residence of Japan's Imperial Family until 1868, when the emperor and capital were moved from Kyoto to Tokyo. It is located in the spacious Kyoto Imperial Park. The palace burnt down and was moved around the city several times over the centuries. The present reconstruction dates from 1855. The palace complex is enclosed by a long wall and consists of several gates, halls and gardens. It was weird for me to see some college kids throwing a Frisbee in land that used to belong to the sacred Imperial family. Just goes to show how much things really have changed, I guess. Towards the end of the park, I began to wonder just how I would make my way back to the hotel to meet Mom and Nana. The walk would take me way to long, and I was too cheap to hire a cab. Sometime I discovered that I was lucky enough to be able to read the Japanese Kanji at a local bus stop. And so I boarded a bus bound a stop, that may or may not have been near my hotel. This is coming from a girl who used to be intimidated by the direct bus to New York City. And by some stroke of a miracle, I got off just 2 minutes from my hotel. Feeling so pround of my new found transportation skills, I walked the remaining way alongside the Canal, blooming Sakura, and Heian-Jingu. I stopped for some Korean pickles, called Kimuchi, for my lunch meal, then returned to the hotel. And after the 4 floor climb, woke up Nana and Mom who were slumbering quietly. They had promised that if they could get some sleep, they would be able to do some nighttime temple touring. So I eagerly annoyed the to get ready. And we finally beparted the hotel at around 5. We took a short cut that brought us through a wooden arcade filled with shops selling local vegetables and fruit. Then we were along side a gushing stread covered in petals from the Sakura trees. Soon darkness of night crept through the lively streets of Kyoto, as we made our way in the famous Gion district. First we got lost in the crowds at Sanjo-dori. The white and green lights were now lite and beckoned us with fragances and the kind words of shop owners. At the end of the street, we passed over a bridge and into the main area. The Gion district is across the river from the main downtown. It's a beautiful well-preserved area which has kept the same atmosphere for a long time. There are numerous temples in that small area and the many stoned paved roads lined up with tiny inns, restaurants and shops. Although it's supposed to be the Geisha district, we didn't see any that night. The place I wanted to eat was the legendary Pontocho street, which I had only ever heards about in Myths. Pontocho-dori is a narrow little lane east of Kawaramachi-dori and west of the Kamo river. The lane is hemmed in by restaurants and craft shops. It is particularly atmospheric at night when the eateries have red lanterns outside their doors.　Unfortunately, our experience in Pontocho was not a good one.　Though the street, with it's old style feel, and bright lanterns, was enchanting. The shops did not seem to want anything to go with foreign tourists. We made our way into one place, which had said served Pizza. It did not serve Pizza, and the chefs seemed annoyed that we even bothered to come in and try. One restaurant, which showed the food in the window, giving Nana and Mom some confidence, refused to take us in. The main man said that we needed a reservation in Japanese, though the reatsurant was virtually empty. I was left feeling crushed and terrible of this experience. I have never ever been so humiliated in Japan, as I was in that night. I didn't tell my Mom and Nana about the man who refused, because I was afraid of what they might do. Instead we finally found another underground little place with delicious food, English menu's, and very kind atmosphere. it was too hard for me to enjoy though, because I was in too much shock from the prior experiences. When we were finished with the meal, Nana informed us that she could no longer carry on. We hailed a cabbie, who spoke no English. I told him where to take Nana, but I spent the rest of the time worrying that he might end of taking her to the other side of Japan, and she would not have known the difference. Mom and I instead, headed　up the steep slopes of Sannenzeka to Kiyomizudera. We climbed up the Omiyage filled streets, darkness carpeting everything but the creeping light from the shops. Thousands of people from all around the world were our company at one of the most beautiful temples in the world. Smells of raditional Japanese foods wafted through the air, amidst the familiar store greeting of 'Irashammisen!' The atmosphere was that of peace, and I found myself wondering of maybe the temple's rich heritage of Kannon, the Buddhist glad of mercy, had something to with it. We reached the top, legs tired from the climb, but were immediately enthralled by the lite up red structure of the gate. After we payed the entrance fee, took a few photos, our tired legs no longer bothered us as we climbed onto the temple. It was too amazing of a sight for us to really care about that. The main temple offered us a view of the Kyoto skyline. Now I don't think Kyoto is really anything special compared to Tokyo, New York, or the real big cities of the world. But it was really something lite up in the dark of night. The main Temple was a bit too crowded for my taste, so my mother and I moved on to another area, seemingly not quite as disturbed by the other tourists. I think most people must have overlooked this spot, for it offered the greatest view in the whole complex. I got to see the great hall of the shrine, lite up by the Sakura CHerry Blossom trees, with the lights of the city. As I suspected, we were not disppointed. But when it was time to head down the slopes of the mountain, I found myself saddened to be leaving the beautiful temple. I was also freezing. The night had become far too cold for my taste, but I would not let it stop me. As we began heading back for the hotel, I spotted Kodaiji, another temple I wanted to see. Located in a beautiful part of Higashiyama Ward, Kodaiji sits atop a slight hill. It was established in 1605 by the legendary Nene, the wife of the late Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and financed by Tokugawa Ieyasu. Much of the complex was destroyed in 1789 by fire. Mom and I visited it at nighttime. Within the temple grounds, there is a bamboo grove that lights up spectacularly at night. It was just a common temple, but the Bamboo grove was incredible. I felt like I had entered another dimension, surrounded my the mysterious wooden green grove. Mom began to feel very sick. So we couldn' stay very long. All in all the days was eventful and enjoyable. I was a Maiko in the morning, an explorer in the afternoon, and a dreamer in the evening. And I was even happier in the ｂath after such a long chilly day. ;)

Hanging At Himeji- Day 4

The train wasn't to depart till about 9:45. But Nana and Mom have a tendency to get up at the crack of dawn and be ready 5 minutes after that. How they do it, I have yet to figure out. ALthough I have picked up this new trick called, Packing Everything Really Quick. I'll let you in on how it works. You take a backpack or bag and shove everything you own into it, as quick as possible. Works everytime. A few minutes after the sun rose, we were all packed. The night before, my host family, the Osaki's, had given me strict instructions. One of the problems facing was wa place to put all of luggage at the Himeji Station. It's not as though Nana and Mom took my advice, clearly stating not to pack heavily. Infact, they pretty much packed as of they were moving to Japan for a year. Now who would do such a crazy thing? Anyway I tolf Osaki Otosan this dilemma, and he came up with a plan. In prior plannings of the trip, he had arranged for a good friend, Kuroda-san, to meet us at the station and then given us a tour of the Himeji area. That is all I knew about the set up. But with our little dilemma, Kuroda-san would drive us to the post office. There we would ship our luggage to the Osaki residence. It seemed like it would work out perfectly. Except that we still had 2 more days without suitcases. Nana and Mom could have died. They packed up a bag full to the brim and extremely heavy with stuff for 2 nifty little days. So we set off that morning with an extra extremely heavy bag. The hotel owners, who had been absolutely wonderful over the past few days, called us a cab when we reached the first floor. Though they were probably happy to get rid of us. The cabby loaded our stuff, and soon we were on our way to Kyoto Station. There I brought Mom and Nana into the basement area to ask where our train would be departing from. But we still had a long time. Mom and Nana decided to get some breakfast, a few things of bread, while I got a coffee as usual. They were both very happy with this safe breakfast. But we were finished very quickly and headed back into the station. Now mind you, it was just about time for morning rush hour. Every 5 minutes or so, about 10,000 people, dressed in black, carrying suitcases, with black hair, and virtual sameness would stampede through the area we were standing. During one of the 5 minute breaks, I went and got some drinks for Nana and Mom, then found a bathroom. We would never have been able to survive any more stampede's, so i decided we had better catch an early train. My host father had bought all my tickets beforehand, and I was really lucky that he had bought the open ended whenever you feel like it ticket. I carried Nana's enormously heavy bag up the platform with no elevator, and we suddenly were overtaken by the little black ant stampede. On the train, we had to stand. But luckily because we had SO much luggage, it made alot of extra room for air. A few stops later and Nana and Mom were able to sit, while I had to stay standing up. People would get on the train and take one look at how much luggage I had, and make rude remarks in Japanese. The great part is that I could understand what they said. Usually I made a remark back like, "I can understand you, you know." This would make them get so embarrassed that they would try to move to the next cart. The ride was very long with the amount of people, and Mom and Nana were not happy about it. Especially since they couldn't get any answers about today's events. This is because I really didn"t know what was happening other than Osaki Otosan's friend picking us up at the station. We arrived tired and all a little annoyed with each other. In the station, the first thing me Mom noticed was BIG lockers. AND the mood lifted as she and Nana threw their belongings into one and paid the outrageous fee. They were so pleased to know they would be traveling with all their stuff in the next few days, rather than just one little (but heavy!) bag. Suddenly a Japanese girl, looking to be about my age, followed by a middle-aged Japanese man walked up to us. This was the first time we met Muroda-san and his 16 year old daughter, Kanoko. They were SOOOOOOO nice to us. First they wondered why we were using the lockers instead of just sending the luggage, but my Japanese finally came in handy for something. Next the ushered for us to follow them to their car. Kanoko informed me that we would be picking up her mother, then heading to Shosazan, a mountain with an ancient temple on the top. We picked up the young looking woman in front of restaurant, and were greeted kindly beyond words. The car ride was a bit long, but I spent every moment getting to know Kanoko. She goes to the smartest school in Himeji, in a 2nd year in high school, and participates in the Cheer squad. She took the day off from club to come and meet us. I showed her pictures from my camera, and we laughed very hard (probably from the Maiko pictures.) We became fast friends. Soon we arrived at the Mountain, where I purchased 6 ropeway tickets. The first thing we had to do was get on a Gondola taking us to the high part of the mountain. As we soared about the tree tops, we got a great view of the beautiful city of Himeji. At the top, or at least what I thought was the top, we had the choice to either walk up a more steep mountain, or take a bus. The walk was never an option with Nana's hip, which upon hearing, became a big concern for the Kuroda family. Translating for Nana and Mom, we all managed to get to know the Kuroda family, and what wonderful people they were. So by the time we boarded the Roller Coaster, ooooppppsss I mean bus, we were all pretty comfortbale with each other. Boarding the bus, we were slapped on our right shoulders a sticker, which acted as a ticket. The weird thing was that the ticket was a crooked Swastika. Even though I know the real meaing behind the character in Japanese Buddhism, having it placed on my shoulder, gave me the creeps. The symbol as it is used in Buddhist art and scripture is known in Japanese as a manji, which literally just means "the Chinese character for eternality." It represents Dharma, universal harmony, and the balance of opposites. When facing left, it is the front manji, representing love and mercy. Facing right, it represents strength and intelligence. The bus ride took us up and down the steepest of steep hills, over muddy rocky roads, and just on the edge of steep cliffs with no guard rails. Mom likened it to a guard rail, but I felt lucky to be alive. And sure enough, we had arrived at Engyoji on the Mount Shosha. Mount Shosha (Shoshazan) is the site of Engyoji, an atmospheric temple complex with a history of over 1000 years. Engyoji's temple buildings are spread over a spacious, densely forested area on the mountain top. From the ropeway station it takes a 10-15 minute walk uphill to reach Niomon Gate, and another 10-15 minutes to reach the Maniden, a beautiful wooden temple hall, constructed on pillars on a steep slope. We explored the main temple, which gave us a great view of the forest, and forced Nana to take off her shoes yet again. But we were done with the temple fairly quickly. Our next excursion was a brief hike up the mountain to another part of the temple complex, that would pass through the graveyard of the family that built Himeji Castle. We were all fine, even Nana, hiking up the slightly steep slope. The trail brought us to the three massive wooden temple halls, known as mitsunodo: the Daikodo (main hall), Jikido (lodging and dining hall, and the last remaining one in Japan) and Jogyodo (gymnasium). We took alot of time looking around the area, taking pictures, and enjoying the time we had together. I was informed, in recent years, Mount Shosha has gained some fame overseas by having served as a film location for the Hollywood movie "The Last Samurai". I hate Tom Cruise, but I smiled and acted amazed at the fact that the Kuroda's got to actually meet him when he came to film. Walking back down the mountain, I told the whole family about my life in Japan. They were really interested, and I wasn't afraid to speak Japanese, even though I probably sound like a caveman. When I was finished, I invited Kanoko to Maerica, an offer in which she may take up. Back on the bus, we crossed our fingers for dear life, but made it safely to the starting point. Then we returned via ropeway. Back in the car, Mrs. Kuroda, told me that she know the perfect restaurant to feed Nana and Mom. I had told the family, that my family hated Japanese food. But I was a little worried about where we would end up going. After about a 35 minute painfully carsickening ride, we picked up Kanoko's best friend Miki. And then arrived at a steak place. Nana could have wet herself in joy as she ordered a large sandwich. The meal was very delightful, with Nana and Mom being very happy, me making 2 new friends, and the Kuroda's listening to everything that was going on. The family even presented the 3 of us with beautful little trinkets from Himeji. I received a Himeji Castle key chain, while Nana and Mom got other things famous for the beautiful Himeji Castle, which was to be our next destination. The only complaint about the meal, was that the Kuroda family insisted on paying for it. I was a bit uncomfortable about that, especially since it was them who were being so amazing to an American family who had they had just met. After we were all finished, we left the restaurant and headed for Himeji Castle. Himeji Castle is a Japanese castle located in Himeji. It is one of the oldest surviving structures from medieval Japan. It is one of Japan's "Three Famous Castles", and is the most visited castle in Japan. It is occasionally known as Hakurojō or Shirasagijō ("White Heron Castle") because of its brilliant white exterior. When we arrived, the Sakura were in full bloom, the park surrounding was crowded with happy cheery people, the sun was shining, and Nana and Mom were fed. (The think the latter part of that sentence was what made everyone happy.) After briefly exploring the grounds outside the castle, we bought tickets and headed inside. The self-guided tour around the grounds was easy to follow, before making the way up the castle to the top. First we saw the beautiful Sakura gardens that made the castle look like it was floating on a sea of pink pedals. Then we got close up the main part and had to make a decision whether or not to climb it. Nana decided that it just wasn't going to be possible for her, while the rest of decided to climb it's steep steps. Mr. Kuroda decided to stay and wait with Nana, so that she wouldn't feel lonely. Mrs. Kuroda, Mom, Miki, Kanoko, and I then trekked up the thousands of EXTREMELY steep and narrow staircases. As we climbed the castle, artifacts appeared on display that provided insights on the history of the area and the people who built the castle. There was also a floor that described what life was like in the castle. I'm just glad I never had to live on one of them, even if they are utterly amazing. My favorite artifact was the old wooden toilet. I really give those guys credit. They were not only beastly fighting Samurai, but they were able to figure out a way to put an indoor squatter in the castles. Genius. AFter burning out our legs in the climb, we reached the top of the White Heron. From the top there are nice views over the city of Himeji. Unfortunately, and fortunately from a different point of view, it took us a long time to get to the top. I used this time to talk with my new friends, Miki and Kanoko. At the top, Mom and I looked for Nana, but we were too far up. We would have stayed and enjoyed the sights more, but it was just far too crowded. So we headed back down the stairs, which was probably more painful than going up. Soon we departed the castle and met up with Nana, who had entertained Mr. Kuroda quite well. Leaving the grounds, Miki, Kanoko, and I stopped and purchased a delicious ice cream. Soon we had crossed the main moat and the heavy gates, and were finsihed with our tour of the lovely castle. The clock informed us that it was time for our train to Hiroshima, and thus time to say goodbye to our new friends. At the station, the hardest part was not saying goodbye, but not giving them hugs. Japanese people aren't very found of hugs, ad though I've become pretty accostumed to it, Mom and Nana have had some effect on me. We gave the girls some New Jersey teddy bears, and swapped cell phone emails along with promises to stay in touch. Then they left as we Mom and Nana and I got in line for our Shinkhansen train to Hiroshima. In the train heading to Hiroshima, Mom and Nana made a comment about just how wonderful the Kuroda family was for taking us around the way that they did, buying us lunch, and being all-around wonderful people. I think it was very nice of them, too. And now I have 2 new kind friends in Himeji, Japan. But I explained to them that it wasn't quite shocking for me. I have lived with these kind of people for 8 months. This is the country that I have grown to love beyond words. I'm not totally sure they understood, or if anyone will understand. But it is all that I can say to make some sort of sense of things. When we arrived in Hiroshima, we trampled through the station with the heavy annoying bags. Trying to walk to the hotel, Mom hailed a cab, even though the hotel was all of 10 steps away. Soon we were checking in. Nana and Mom breathed a sigh of utter relief when the desk operator announced that there was elevator access. In the room, they unpacked and got layed out in a rest. Nana and Mom both sampled the toilet budet, which is always an interesting occurence. For dinner, we had hoped on eating at the hotel, but there was some sort of a party going on, so we were on our own. I had earlier noticed a McDonalds in the Hiroshima Station, so we set out for some food. But Nana and Mom asked to stop at another place, Japanese CHinese food instead. Needless to say, the absolutely loathed their pork and dumpling mix, while I gorged on delicious Curry rice. But they were content, when I discovered a Haagan Daaz ice cream machine on the 3rd floor of the hotel. And then after they ate, we all slept. And it was a great sleep too...

Castles, Trains, and Statues- Kyoto Day 3

We had finally started to get onto Japanese standard time. And by we, I really mean Mom and Nana. But once the two of them are up at the same time, it usually means it's time for me to get up. We were dressed and ready to go 8. Today we decided to skip the Hotel's Western breakfast, and get something closer to the station. Yesterday when I anxiously searched for the Maiko company place, I stumbled into the subway station for the nearest ward, in which we were staying at, Higashiyama. I also read one of the Japanese signs that said the last stop on the line was Nijo Castle, the place I had wanted to visit on today's journey. I'd beasted the Taxi's, Bus's, and now I was going to conquer the subway station to become the queen of the Japanese Public Transportation. But before I get ahead of myself, back at the hotel, we departed and decided to take the new found short cut alongside the Sakura and gushing stream in the middle of a living quarter in Kyoto. Beside the station, I spotted a sandwich place, which Mom and Nana decided to try. Mom ordered a Strawberry Whip Cream sandwich, while Nana got mixed fruit. I was happy with my daily coffee and then watching the woman struggle to eat what they had in front of them. I ended up eating some of the strawberries from Mom's sandwich. When we were finished, they followed me down into the underground station, where we purchased 3 tickets heading to Nijo station. Onto the platform, we next boarded the train. Looking at the schedule, I switched stations for an easier walk on Nana. Soon enough, we had arrived and were filing out of the car. It was just about time for the early morning rush, and I could already see the cars fill up like Sardine cans. Out of the station, we were almost directly in front of the already crowded Nijo Castle. After Tokugawa Ieyasu's victory in the Battle of Sekigahara in 1600, he started the building of Nijo Castle as his residence in Kyoto. As the founder of the Tokugawa Shogunate, leader of a united Japan, Nijo Castle came to represent political and military might. The sprawling area known as Nijo Castle is a 400-year-old complex, with buildings from various periods in its long history. Mom, Nana, and I purchased tickets, and then walking inside the beautiful and interesting Nijo complex. Surrounding Nijo is a outer moat and high protective wall complete with guard towers. To enter the castle we walked through the Main Gate located on the eastern side of the castle. Following the wall around will bring you to the Kara Mon, the entrance into the Ninomaru Palace, which elaborately decorated by cranes, flowers, and butterflies on the outer panels and Chinese tigers, lions and a dragon on the inner panels. After walking through the Kara Mon we arrived at the main complex of Ninomaru Palace which is a group of five buildings, all that housed certain ranks according to the decision of the Shogun. It really all depended on social hierachy. It is obvious that Nijo was a fortress and one can see how a feudal lord and his soldiers could take up a position of defence in times of war. With the moat, guard houses, and high walls you cannot help but envision one of the Shoguns holding off an enemy until reinforcements arrived. The shoin-zukuri style reflects the social heirarchy within the feudal period of Japan. As mentioned before, the higher ranking and more distinguished a guest was, the further they got into the compound. Moreover, their position allowed them to be on a higher floor level. Each building has a slightly higher floor than the previous building, reflecting the social status of the guest. However, each building also had a raised platform on which the shogun would be seated during an audience so no one's head was higher than his. Adding to the security of Ninomaru Palace, aside from secret rooms and corridors where guards could keep watch, guard towers, and the moat, were specially designed wooden floors called "uguisu bari" or Nightingale Floors. Designed to creak and squeak whenever walked upon, the floors prevented anyone from sneaking around in the castle without being heard, even if they were in bare or padded feet. Mom made a comment that she thought the idea of this was brilliant for such an ancient civilization. Looking at the design of Nijo Castle I came to the conclusion that either Shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu was extremely cautious, planning for an attack at anytime or he was simply paranoid. However, the squeaking floors, secret passages, towers moats, and walls were simply not enough for the first shogun. In case all of the defences of the Ninomaru Palace fell he had the Honmaru Palace as a fall back position. Honmaru Palace is located behind an inner moat and yet another wall, creating a castle within a castle. In case of an attack the shogun could retreat to this inner castle and be safe until help arrived from the outside. The Ninomaru Palace is decorated in both art and architecture. The most distinctive style of art was the painted expansive landscapes on the sliding doors of the room. By some stroke of luck the palace was not stuck by fires and each building in the contains these amazing works of art. All of the buildings have paintings that use brilliant colors and heavy amounts of gilt. Tigers, birds, flowers, and massive trees are some of the themes displayed in the paintings. Unfortunaterly I was not aloowed to take on photographs of the amazing inside paintings. We toured alot of it and were lucky enough to be able to see most of the great artwork. Even a rude German tour group, did not stand in our way of enjoying the castle. When we were finished touring the inside, Nana and Mom took their time putting their shoes back on. It's funny what a simple task it is, and yet how much they hate doing it. Mostly because it seems like every temple complex in Kyoto asks for you to take them off. It doesn't bother me, but because I'm so used to it. Afterwards we strolled through the gardens, and I learned a fair amount of my family history. They came all the way to Japan, and here we were talking about aunts and uncles. But it was nice to talk to them again after such a long time apart. Mom and I eventually climbed the inner moats steep stairs to doscover that there was nothing important on the the top. Can you imagine having not one one, but two moats? When we were finished touring the grounds, it was time to head the next destination, Arashiyama. The long walk to Nijo Station found me echoing my new famous words, "It's not far." But we did eventually get to the station. Mom and Nana's railpass came is handy at ticket gate, while I had to pay the small fee for the local train. We almost missed the train because Nana had to go to the bathroom. Soon on the train, we made it to Arashiyama. The day was rainy, blustery, and freezing, and no one had told me that the weather would be so miserable. Nana and Mom were siffering as soon as left the station, while I tried to push forward. I thought Nana and Mom could handle the Sangano ROmantic Train, which I had heard was an amazing experience. SO we bought tickets for the train and then realized we had about 40 minutes to do whatever we wanted. SInce noneof the temple complexes were nearby, Nana and Mom thought it was a good idea to get lunch. The problem: what to feed them. But we were lucky in that just a few steps from the station was a Lawsons, convenience stores, my secret to success in Japan. I brought them in and showede them the food, most of which they thought was edible. Nana settled on a Chicken sandwich, while Mom got Chinese dumpling. Both split a French fries and a STrawberyy SHortcake. I was very happy with my Onigiri, Seaweed wrapped rice ball with Tuna inside and green Tea pudding. When we had finished, the two woman were fed and significantlly happier, it's a real wonder what food does to people. Back in the Torroco Station, the train aboard to board, we got in line for our seat. You couldn"t believe the relief when the red train pulled up the platform bearing glass windows to keep out the blistery chill. The Sagano Romantic Train closely follows the course of the Hozu River through the idyllic canyon from Arashiyama to Kameoka. The canyon really was beautiful, with it gushing river down in the valley, and lush green mountains. The first part of ride, found us facing the rock part of a not-quite-so-scenic mountain. But after a few tunnels, we got the window side. Down below in the valley, little boats sailed along the rapids, with the captains always stopping to send up a wave to the train. Mom, Nana, and I got our pictures taken, though it didn't come out very well. The 25 minue ride was very beautiful, and we were all saddened to see it pull up the a station, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. We got off the train, trying to avoid the mass crowds, and then walked the 15 minutes to the main JR station. The place, Kameoka, was really just a giant farm with nothing to see. I wanted to head back to Arashiyama because there was so much stuff there. But when we arrived at the station, frozen to the bones, slightly wet from the drizzles, Nana and Mom informed they wanted to go back to the room. I would have stayed and explored Arashiyama by myself, but they would never have been able to find their way back to the hotel, with all the Train and Subway travel we did. I was really disappointed that I didn't get to see Arashiyama, but I had to make sure that they got back in one piece. So we made it back to Nijo Station, then boarded the Subway. WHen we reached our starting destination, I prompted Mom and Nana to get off, and told them I would meet them back at the hotel in a few hours. I wasn't going to let the rest of the day de useless. So I changed trains a few times, and ended up At Kyoto Station. I had heard a lot of people say that even though it's often crowded, it's definitely worth a look around. The new Kyoto Station building was built on the occasion of the 1,200th anniversary of the Heian Capital foundation. It was opened to the public in 1997 and stands in perfect contrast with many foreign tourists' image of Kyoto as the capital of traditional JapanTons and tons of steel, platforms reaching out in thin air. Escalators taking you up up up, thousands of hectic tourists and locals, hundreds of places to shop... and get lost. Thats Kyoto station in a nut-shell. Upstairs is a hotel and department store. Underground is a big shopping mall along side the local trains. While outide is a large bus stop. Such a futuristic place in an ancient city, seems a little out of place. I do like the futuristic look of Kyoto station and the platforms sticking out in thin air does remind me of a scene in Star Wars when Luke is fighting Darth Vader in City of the Clouds. It's so futuristic in such an ancient city, that there is no suprise that building it caused many debates amongst historians and city dwellers alike. When I was through exploring the Station, I decided to head to the Fushimi Shrine, best know as the shrine with 1000's of red Torri gates. The only problem was that no one seemed to know how to get there, and I didn't even think to find a Taxi. I was incredibly disappointed because I had wanted to see it even before I found I was coming to Japan. Instead, I bought myself I mocha coffee, closed my eyes, dwiddled around my fingers, which ended up pointing to a bus headed for some temple called Sanjusangendo. Figuring, I had nothing to lose, I boarded the packed bus, and waited as it drive through the heart of the city, passing famous sites like the Higashi Hoganji Temple. The funny part about that temple is it's this ancient wood structure, full of history and religion, and yet it's right in the middle of 3 high rises building. I wondered if the Buddhist monk who founded the temple ever envisioned a high rise above his work. I really don't think so, but who knows. WHen the bus pulled to a stop at Sanjusangendo, I walked to the front, paid the fee, and then got off. I had read about the temple before, but nothing made me really want to see it, nothing made me put it on my must-see list. In the end, I'm thankful I ended up seeing it's golden treasure. This place left a deep thoughtful impression on me. It is popularly known as Sanjusangendo for its famous 1001 statues of Kannon, the Goddess of Mercy. The statues are housed in the main building which from the outside did not look like much except at 390 feet in length, the longest wooden structure of it's kind in the world. But inside I got to view the statues. One giant Kannon sits in the middle, flanked on each side by 500 slightly smaller statues, all of them in neat rows side by side. The smaller statues are as tall as a human. And very lifelike, except they are painted in gold and have 44 arms each. When entering the hall, I was struck by the silence even though there are sizable crowd inside admiring the statues. The sight is overwhelmingly aweinspiring. The front row of deities nearest to the visitors are identified individually by plagues naming them with info about them, e.g Wind, Thunder, Lightening. These frontal deities actually gave me shivers, because they all looked so angry and lifelike. They also had a Hindu religious feel to them, even though the temple was purely Buddhist. Though there are 1001 statues, all the same to most people, I spent a LONG time looking at them. Every single one was different, but each contained an element of interest. I ended up having to leave the hall because of a huge tour. Otherwise, I would have stayed for hours just trying to discover the differences in the statues. There is no photography allowed in the main hall, so these photos are from the book I bought on the Temple. I also bought Mom, Nana, Shannon, and Me, little gods and fortunes. My little god was the God of Music and Travel. I couldn't help but think it was the perfect figure for me. This year I have done more traveling than the average person, and also taken up playing the wonderful instrument, the Koto. Nana got the God of Ocean, SHannon got the God of Beauty, and I don't remember what Mom got. WHen I was finished with the temple, I wanted to continue exploring. The problem is that most temples close very earlier, and looking at my cell phone watch, it was 3:30! I had spent almost 2 hours looking at the statues! I headed back the bus stop, in which I had begun my adventure at Sanjusangendo, and boarded a bus that looked like it might be heading in the direction I wanted to go. Again I got lucky, and was dropped off right near the always enchanting, Heian- jingu. Back inside the hotel, I hurried up the 4 flights of stairs to the room. Nana and Mom were still sleeping, when I came through the door. I woke them up, gave them their little Gods I bought at Sanjusangendo, and tried to get them ready. It was finally my turn to choose where we would dinner. The hotel had given me a pamphlet on nearby restaurants, one in which was an Okonomiacki place. Okonomiacki is my favorite Japanese food. I was convinced, even though Mom and Nana had thus far declared war on Japanese food, that they would like something nicknamed the Japanese pizza. But Mom was catching a cold, and asked to be left behind. So Nana and I set out for the restaurant. Unfortunately, even I was not thrilled with the food. They put some kind of spice inside the dish that Nana just could not stomach. I didn't even like it very much, but I ended up eating it all. Because it really is just tasty no matter what. After the quick dinner, we headed for another Lawson's Convenience store, where Nana bought every candy within a four foot radius. She happily found her Strawberry Shortcake, which she had eaten successfully for lunch. We also picked up some Tempura for Mom's dinner. She certainly enjoyed eating that because it was fried food! Back at the hotel, we packed up our suitcases, because tommorrow morning we would be leaving Kyoto. Then we called Pop and Dad and Shannon. As Nana talked to Pop, Mom purchased some gifts for the people back home. When I made sure that both parties were all set, I happily trodded off for my Public Bath.

Hope In Hiroshima- Day 5

We were up at a fairly decent hour. The only problem was that we would have slept much later had it not been for the elections. In Japan, candidates drive around and blast "Vote for ME!!!" throughout the day and night. Mr. Sakamoto and his crew were right outside our hotel screaming for the win. I later found out that he lost the election. And I couldn't help but think, what comes around goes around. With the price of the room, we received a breakfast, so our first destination was the restaurant. Even I ate a small salad, which is weird because I hate eating breakfast. Nana and Mom seemed pretty pleased with their meals, even though throughout the breakfast the voices of candidates kept us constantly annoyed. After we were all fed, we took the brief walk to Hiroshima Station. There I planned on boarding a tram for the Peace Memorial. Although I got on the wrong car, I quickly figured it out, and we ended up in the right spot. Our walk to Genbaku Dome took us underneath the main streets through a huge underground shopping mall, similiar to that in Nagoya. I couldn't help but wonder why a country with so many earthquakes would keep building these underground shopping centers. Nothing was open yet, though. So we moved along the signs pointing us toward Genbaku Dome. Climbing out of the shopping mall, and I was immediately enthralled with the Dome. Hiroshima was a city of over 300,000 people when it was instantly leveled on August 6, 1945. All districts within a radius of two kilometers of the hypocenter were completely destroyed. The only evidence that remain to show that these areas were indeed active parts of the city were the shells of some of the reinforced concrete structures. The Hiroshima Prefecture Industrial Promotion hall was one of these. Now known as Genbaku Dome, or the A-Bomb Dome, it has become a symbol of Hiroshima and of "No More Hiroshimas". It stands today as a witness to the destructive power of nuclear weapons. While Nana, used the bathroom, Mom ran into some Jehavah Witness. She was amazed that they are all the way in Japan. They gave us some pamplets on why everyone should work toward world peace, but then did the signature Japanese look away when we brought up 9/11. It's true, no Japanese person really wants to talk about Pearl Harbor, and other City Bombing, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and current terrorism, like 9/11. After our encounter with the Witnesses, we toured the Peace park. Our first monument after Genbaku Dome, was the Children's memorial. This memorial was inspired by leukaemia victim Sadako. When she developed leukaemia from exposure to radiation after the A-bomb's explosion. At the age of 10 she decided to fold 1000 paper cranes, the symbol of longevity and happiness in Japan, and was convinced that if she could achieve that target she would recover. She died before reaching her goal, but her classmates folded the rest. The paper crane is now the symbol of peace. Her story inspired the world to create a monument to remember the children of the tragedy. Next was the Korean monument. This is a monument dedicated to the Korean vistims of the A-Bomb. Many Koreans were forced into labour in Hiroshima, and essentially pushed to the side after the bomb went off. They were treated as though they did not exist, and received no help. Nearby was a huge mound of dirt vovered with flowers and wreaths. Mom told me to take a pictures, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The mound was dust from burned bodies of the victims that were unidentifiable for families. It was laid to rest in the park as a remainder of the horrors of Nuclear warfare. I couldn't stand my it for very long. Finally we approached the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. Along the way, we passed the fire that will remain lit until all Nuclear bombs have been destroyed. I don't think that will happen for a very very long time though. I wrote about my experiences inside the museum in "Hope in Hiroshima," so if you are interested please read that. Walking out of the museum, Mom, Nana, and I talked about what we had just seen. Then we relaxed in the beautiful Peace Park, under a shining sun and a Sakura covered riverside. There were rumours after the bombing that grasses and plantlife would not grow again for seventy-five years, but that spring, there were blooms. The people found hope in this, and drew strength to rebuild their city. Now in the very place where the bomb was detonated, 62 years later, Sakura grow peacefully along the riverside. It shows that, Hope is everywhere. Soon we decided to trek back through the main walking mall, now crowded with shoppers, and go to Hiroshima Castle. The walk was actually pretty long, but it was well worth it. Nana, decided to wait on the outside, while Mom and I went inside. Hiroshima-jo, also called Carp Castle, was originally constructed in 1589. Because of it's success, the surrounding area grew into a successful city. Much of it was dismantled following the Meiji Restoration, leaving only the donjon, main gates, and turrets. What remained was totally destroyed by the bomb and rebuilt in ferro-concrete in 1958. Though it is not the original building, it is very impressive and beautiful, during cherry blossom season. It contains an interesting museum, as well. AFterwards, we collected Nana, and went to a shopping center looking for some food. With almost no luck, we ate at a bread store, where Nana was very content with her cherry filled roll. Heading back to the hotel, for some much needed resting time, we hopped on the tram car, then stopped off back at the station. On our way, Nana decided to pick some fruit in case she got unlucky with food again. At the hotel, we took a nice long rest and at 5, we set off for Okonomimura. I have not asked these two to eat and food, except for Okonomiacki, my very favorite food. Usually I only like the Osaka version of the food, but I was defnitely glad we went in Hiroshima. In the middle of the shopping districts of Hiroshima, this fabulous restuarant, translated into "Okonomiacki Village," exists. Hiroshima is the second best city in Japan to get a delicious Okonimacki, which happens to be my favorite Japanese food. And in this wicked place, there are 28 different places to sit down for a Japanese pizza. We tempted fate at the 'Carp Okonomiacki.' And were lucky to all enjoy the meal. Even Mom and Nana, who despise Japanese cooking, thought it was alright. Nana left a little early to hit up the local Mister Donut, which she found to be disgusting. That night, back at the hotel, I had another stop at the Haggan Daaz Ice Cream machine for Nana. haha

Madness in Miyajima- Day 6

The morning started when we all awoke from our sleep, to the sound of quiet. I later found out that the elections had stopped. We followed our morning routines and then headed down in the elevator to the 3rd floor breakfast place. Handing in our free breakfast coupons, we got plates and started taking what we wanted. I got a huge salad that I smothered in Sesame sauce, while Mom and Nana enjoyed bread, no surprise there. I went over the days schedule with them, and soon enough we were heading back to the room. The plan was to get our stuff and then buy a locker for it all in Hiroshima Station, like we did at Himeji. After we were finished, all packed, and ready to start the day, we checked out of the hotel. Then with our huge luggage bags, we planned on walking to the station. Instead on the workers at the hotel volunteered to give us a ride. Nana and Mom were s relieved as we filed into his mini van. At the station, we wished us luck, gave me a map of the city, and then returned to his post. We were in luck with 2 unused large luggage lockers near the Shinkhansen station. And after everything was squared away, I took my family to the JR local lines and waited for an early train to Miyajimaguchi. Since it was pretty early in the morning, the train hadn't yet become a sardine can. I still stood up, making sure that we didn't accidentally pass through the wrong station. I was on a roll for perfect train hopping, and I didn't want to lose the title. When we arrived at the said destination, the whole group of travelers also got off. We were on a bright colorful lovely little street in the Hiroshima coast line. At the end of the street was the dock for ferry to Miyajima Island, so the shops and vendors on the sides were hard at work trying to sell Omiyage. The most famous of which is the Momiji, or maple leaf shaped cake with filling. Most of the filling is flavored Green Tea or Bean paste, but Nana and I discovered Chocolate and Cream Custard that left us pretty happy. Soon we made our way to the ferry, where Mom and Nana used the Rail Pass and I paid the small round trip fee. The ride was freezing! It was still early in the morning yet, but I had to steal my Nana's extra jacket or I would have frozen. The wind whipped around us, as we slowly approached the main site of the day; O-Torii. Located several miles off the coast of Hiroshima city, the holy island of Miyajima is a sacred site of both Shintoism and Buddhism and one of the most enchantingly beautiful places on Earth. To come by early morning boat across the mist-enshrouded sea, slowly approaching the island and its holy mountain of Misen San, is to enter a fairy tale realm. Long before Buddhism came to Japan in the 5th century AD, Shinto sages lived as hermits in the mountain’s forested hills. After we arrived, unloaded the boat, and walked through the dock center, our first big shock of the day hit. Right in the middle of this beautiful island where hundreds of little deer walking right up to tourists and getting fed. Most of their antlers had been chopped off to protect tourists from aggression. And it seemed like they would eat anything. I watched them eat their food as well as a whole paper plate. Mom was overjoyed by this set up, while I couldn't help but crack a little laugh. Next we passed the deer and walked down a own-style cobblestone road toward signs poinging to the island's main red shrine. Stopping along the way for some store browsing, I even found something I liked; a little Red Torii like the Miyajima one. Because I have a fetish with Torii's. How weird is that? One of the 3 'Best Sights in Japan,' the floating Torii gate is astounding. The beautiful Otorri gate, standing in the sea and leading to the Itsukushima shrine, is the symbol of Miyajima Island. The present Otorii, the eighth that was constructed since the Heian period (794-1192), was built in 1875. It is 16 meters tall, and stands on its own support, having no part buried in the ground. Entering a Tori gates is said to be like entering the Holy area of the Gods. Thus since Commoners were historically not allowed to set foot on the island, and had to approach by boat, they had to enter through the gate. Whether it is floating, or merely stuck in the mud, depends on the tide. We were fortunate enough to see it floating. Since we had arrived early, we were very fortunate enough to see it without the huge crowds of annoying tourists. Instead we took our time and explored every little part of the surrounding area, taking us on a little beach stroll, to nearly every bathroom on the island, and seeing more of just the Shrine than the average tourist does. We paid the $3 fee to get onto the shrine, and we're soon fortunate enough to be exploring that as well. Itsukushima Shrine was first established in 593. Built to worship the island as a goddess, the temple quickly became known through out Japan. Its first known written record from 881 includes it among other famous Japanese shrines. The precursor to the current Itsukushima Shrine and its gate were built in 1168 with funds from the Taira clan. Changes to the shrine's layout occurred after fires in 1207, 1223 and a typhoon in 1325. After this time, the shrine is thought to have retained the same basic layout. We took lots of Torii pictures, while we stood on the shrine watching the water slowly rise. When we got off it, Nana found a nice comfortable bench, while Mom and I made the climb up to a Buddhist Temple overlooking the main town. We were in awe at the gorgeousness of the Sakura. Even though we had seen them in every place we had visited, there was something really special about these particular ones. They were fuller or something. Miyajima is said to be a magical island, full of powers that made it mysterious while at the same time open to Holiness. Perhaps it was that. Back down, picking up Nana, we had a few options. We could return back to Hiroshima and take an early train to Kochi. Or we could do a long hike up to the Ropeway, where we would then get to see more of the Island. Nana's hip was taken into consideration, but so was that fact that both woman were loving Miyajima more than place we had visited yet. We decided to go for it, and were then trekking up a steep hill to get to Miyajima Ropeway. The climb was not easy for Nana, and when we arrived, she needed a long rest. So while I purchased the tickets, she sat down and enjoyed the surroundings of the island. In line for the Ropeway, we were put on with a weird Japanese couple. The ropeway took us high above the spiritual green mountains of Miyajima with the crystal clear Seto Inland Sea blanketing until the horizon. When we reached what we believed to the top, we were ushered up more stairs and onto another ropeway. This one was far more high up, and much more scenic. It was larger, and more people were crammed on. Everyone peered out the glass windows at the surrounding islands and blue waters surrounding the greenness of Miyajima. It was truly a spectacular view. Upon reaching the top, we discovered our second great shock of the day. There on the top of Miyajima's Mt. Misen, were wild Monkeys. Mom and Nana were ecstatic, but not me, because I do not like these animals. In fact as we climbed the highest point of the mountain, one of the animals walked across the path in front of meMom must have taken dozens of pictures, her favorite of which was a monkey with a deer. Nana was getting hungry, so back into the station, we ate the fruit that the women had brought along. Ironically enough, Nana ate a banana. When we were finsihed, we decided to try setting out for a hike of the mountain, but didn't make it very far. Nana and Mom were both really tired. SO we took the ropeway back down the mountain. And then trekked back to the main town, where we were surprised at how crowded it had become. There were hundreds of people fighting for a picture of the Torii and spots to get into the Shrine. We considered ourselves lucky that we had arrived so early. Soon we were back on the Ferry, later at the Miyajimagushi Station heading back to Hiroshima. When we arrived, the station was full of rush and confusion. Mom and I sat Nana on a bench in the Bullet Train Station, while she and I went and got the heavy luggage. When we got everything I brought them to the wrong platform. I forgot that we were going West and not East, like usual, so we missed our first train. But I wasn't worried, because we just got onto another train and things were fine again. Though it was pretty packed. I had to sit with an old Japanese man who pretty much talked my ear off, even though I really couldn't understand him. When the Bullet Train arrived in Okayama, we moved through the Bullet Train station and into the local trains, where we boarded the feared and hated Nanpu train to Kochi. I won't go into to it, but by the end of the ride, Mom was as sick as a dog. She made a funny comment, "Riding through mountains and little nothing towns, and I can't imagine a city being at the end of this ride." But we made it to Kochi, where Matsumoto-san, my counselor, and my current host family, the Osaki's, were happily waiting for us. I introduced everyone, and gave Mom and Nana their first insight into my second home. Matsumoto-san drove us first to say hello to the Masaki's then to our hotel, the Oriental Hotel. He bought us all a nice steak dinner, gave us our schedules, and then wished us well. The problem was that each of us had our own room, which meant no more late nights and wet pants from Nana. But I was so happy to be back at home in Kochi.

A View Perspective of Woman

It's been a little over a year since Japan became a big part of my life. And when I found out, I had received the country, my father said something that has stuck with me ever since. "Japan is a country where the woman walk 2 steps behind the men." I dispelled this statement with the belief that Japan is such a modern day society that woman would never allow this to happen. Fortunately, and unfortunately, we were both wrong. I've definitely had more experiences than the average foreigner on cases where woman were not treated with equality. This is presumably because I have lived with various Japanese families. I'd rather give an example from a different exchange student, so as to not offend anyone whom I know personally.The following incident took place for a former exchange student to Japan, though I have had very similar experiences. The exchange student and her host mother were in a car driving, when the host mother made a slight driving error, resulting in a minor car accident. No one was heard, and the car was barely scratched. The whole situation would have easily been forgotten had it not been for the host father. The host father angrily threatened to take the car keys away from his wife, and repremanded her for causing shame on the family. The student was shocked by the harsh words from her host father. But even more horrifed at how the host mother allowed her husband to talk to her like that, even accepted the treatment and seemed to agree with him. Before I procede, I want to say that there are quite a few woman who contradict the system. But I'm only referring to the majority who don't, and are conditioned to accept second class citizenship. How many generations of Americans did it take to accept that woman are, in fact, just as capable as men? I'm some groups will continue to argue that woman are still not toally equal- but in America, I think everyone is equal. Sometime over the past 16 years of my life, I have learned that woman deserve to be respected as human beings, the same way men are. Maybe because I am a woman, but it just seems so basic. In fact, it's the 21st century why do I even have to SAY that I think we are equal? It's basic enough to cause me to wonder if it really needs an explanation. But here in Japan, it really does. The thing that really get me, and most foreigners for that matter, is the word "Oi!" Most Japanese marriages find the husband referring to his wife as "Oi" or in English "You." Woman here think nothing of it, I find it appalling. And on top of that I could name a dozen smart girls who have been made to feel like their talents are worthless. All the top jobs go to men, because that's the way it is. Jobs for woman include secretarial positions, stewardesses, and restaurant jobs. Basically all jobs with no future advancement. One example of something that really bothers me is the life ambition of 'Maiko.' Maiko is an above average Japanese school girl that spends nearly all her freetime studying. She is also an incredible basketball player and much more beautiful than the average Japanese woman. When asking her what exactly she wants to do with her life, the response is shocking. "I'm ging to be a flight attendant until I can get married and be a housewife." Now there is nothing wrong with this dream. But she later admits it, "it's expected of me." I've learned to accept that what's right in my society is not always right in others. But I guarentee if you were raised with modern day Western values, this dream is appalling. There is a proverbial phrase "good wife, wise mother," that is highly referred to by woman in the Japanese culture. This notion continues to influence beliefs about gender roles, in the eyes of both woman and men. Most women may not be able to realize there ideals, but many believe that it is in their own, their children's, house duty. These woman find satisfaction in family life and in the accomplishments of their children, gaining a sense of fulfillment from doing good jobs as household managers and mothers. In most households, women are responsible for their family budgets and make independent decisions about the education, careers, and life-styles of their families. Women also take the social blame for problems of family members. That is usually why divorced woman are disowned from their families, or unable to rent apartments. The government also does nothing to help the situation. The current Prime Minister, Shinzo Abe has made it clear that he will not allow a change to the Constitution of 1947 allowing the next emperor of the Chrysanthemum throne to be a woman. One of the next in line for the throne, is in fact, a young woman. Another example is the recent remarks from the governments Health Minister. He referred to woman as "baby machines." There was a strong surge of outrage in Japan over the comments, but not nearly half of what would have happened had it been a Western leader making the comments. Like I mentioned earlier, there are a great deal of woman who are defying the system, especially with the younger generation. But occasionally I run into those cases that really just bother me as someone who has known nothing other than woman are equal to men and every account. I keep telling myself that what is right in my country is not always right in others. It's just that sometimes it is very hard to do when it comes to things like this.