Golden Week in Japan is what Memorial Day weekend is to the US. Everyone feels compelled to jump in their car and visit something. Only in Japan, Golden Week strings together 4 national holidays. It's a mad busy time. Here's my story. I wrote it in an email to Can the other day. It's a rushed, stream-of-thought piece (with horrific verb tense consistencies), but I think it fits the way I felt during most of the trip. Foggy from a lack of sleep, but determined to keep moving and to see and experience it all.
Leave Ota by night bus. It's raining. I sleep little. Arrive in Osaka at 8. Osaka is a big city. Aaron said it felt like New York. Main road is 10 lanes wide with an elevated highway above. Stumble around for the hotel. Ask everyone. Eventually find it. Capsule hotel. 25 dollars a night. Leave our bags. Get caffeine and food. Get on train to Nara. Is crowded. Walk. Tame deer everywhere in Nara Park. I feed a deer, pet a deer, pose for pictures with deer. Scruffy things. Force fed by hundreds of tourists who buy $1.50 bundles of "deer cookies." Look at temples and pagodas. Nothing special. Seen em at Kyoto and Tokyo. They look the same to me now. Keep walking. Wandering into a festival! Get okonomiyaki and grilled bamboo on a stick. Eat under a tree. Two young girls a few paces from us stop, turn inward, giggle. Courage gathered, they approach with a bag of chewy sours. They offer a piece to each of us, then sit down next to us. The process reminds me of how I had earlier approached the deer by offering bread. They are excited by our foreignness. We talk and giggle and take pictures before returning them to their mother who doesn't seem to mind that her two kids have been talking with strangers away from her sight. That's Japan for you. We walk on to the big attraction--Buddha. On the way I am stopped by two HS girls on an English assignment. Am interviewed. Name? Country? Have you eaten Japanese food? Do you like Nara? Where in Japan have you been? They give me a self-made pamphlet on Nara's deer, my name done in hiragana, and a promise to send a post card to my home (US) address. Awesome! Keep walking. Biggest Buddha in Japan. Housed inside the biggest wooden building in Japan. Both are jaw dropping. Japan is beautiful. Return to Osaka exhausted. Go out for food and drinks.
Day2 we get up early. Breakfast at the capsule hotel is nice. Two thick pieces of bread, hard boiled egg, and unlimited caffeine. No room there for a second night. We move on. Can't find the hotel we had previously booked. Walk into another and get a room. 15 dollars a night. Pallets on the floor. Neighborhood is Japan's dirtiest. Smells like piss. Get on Shinkansen to Hiroshima. Costs mucho dinero. 90 dollars one way. Only takes 1.5 hours for over 300 km though. We zoom. My ears hum and pop with pressure. Everyone but me sleeps. I write and watch the scenery fly. Trees and ocean glimpses. Small populations. Hiroshima is bigger than I thought it would be. We get confused about how to get to the Peace Park. Take the wrong bus, get off, get a taxi. Peace Park is having a festival. It's Greenery Day. Dance troupes. Concerts. A wedding. We pay our 50 cents to get into the museum. It's crowded. Devastating pictures. A watch stopped at 8:15. Small in its case, unworthy of the symbolism. There's a gift shop mid-way through. Sells t-shirts and history books. Modest, but still seems inappropriate. I tear up at the tricycle and helmet that were once buried with a 3 year old victim. Crusted with dirt and rust. A father's desire for safety, the helmet, did nothing. The child's belief in play, the tricycle, brought to a stop. The innocence of both were on display, buried, exhumed, made into relics. I hurry through the rest. Not listening to the tracks on my audio guide. Outside, a wedding on the main stage. Young girls dance to 80s music on a secondary stage. Large paper statues of cranes rise behind me on a lawn. I wait for my friends to emerge.
We all continue down the Peace Park. We stop at the monument to the girl who made 1000 cranes while dieing from radiation cancer. While looking, a Japanese man approaches us and makes small talk. Introduces himself as "Sun-flower." He directs us to a bench and takes pictures of us. First as a group, then just our faces. It's like a line-up. We aren't sure what he means do to with those photos.
We cross a bridge and see the remains of the A-Bomb Building. The fragile dome. The stripped walls. The rubble they never carted away. It's more moving than the museum. While looking there, a baseball game ends and crowds of people happy with their jerseys and sporty exhilaration flood the sidewalks. It's hard to be solemn in such celebration. Hiroshima was a self-contained lesson in disaster and the ability to recover, reconcile, and move through pain. It's impossible to look at the A-Bomb Building without seeing the modern towers rising up behind it.
On the Shinkansen back we are goofy. Is it the lack of sleep, or the need for relief from the day's emotions? We sleep early that night.
Day3. It's our last. We go to Himeji as early as we can. It's an hour away and 15 dollars. We have breakfast at place that has spent too much money on their tables. Heavy marble. I have spicy rice and miso soup. We walk towards the castle through a shopping corridor. It's manic. Finally we spot the castle in the distance. It's beautiful. Himeji is Japan's most famous castle. It's white and majestic. The crowds are immense. 6 bucks to enter,but it's worth it. Even the crowds couldn't keep me from enjoying the place. I find it hard to describe. Powerful. Elegant. We walked around in circles through 50 foot stone walls. The modern city laid out below seemed weak and inadequate. We stood in lines for hours to wind our way through the 6 floors of the main castle. Passed by displays of armor, swords, paintings, guns. The top floor had a shrine. Back in the town I bought omiyage for the staff, lusted after some rose flavored ice cream at a closed shop, and wandered into a festival set up for whatever holiday it was that day. Lunch was had at one of those festival tents. We all ate from the vendor that sold hot dogs coated in cheese rolled in an omelet, covered in ketchup, drizzled with mayonnaise. It was delicious and deadly.
Post Himeji, we went back to Osaka. Picked up our bags at The Sun Plaza and made our way to the bus station. Ate dinner at the station at an over priced Indian place. My mutton masala was 13 dollars. One more hour to kill meant shopping. I bought 3 complementary bracelets from an Indian import store for 9 dollars. Some gum for the road. A bottled tea. Our bus was nearly half an hour late. We boarded. I began a book. They turned out the light at 930 to the disgruntlement of all our group. Got some decent sleep. Woke at 330 in desperate need to go the bathroom. No toilet on the bus. Muster the courage to ask the bus driver about a bathroom. Am rewarded with an answer, and a good one at that. 10 more miles. Dawn at 5. I'm awake. Arrive in Ota at 7. Our group splits. I board a train to Kizaki. Get off the train. Can't find my bike. I circle the lot three times. It's missing. Someone has stolen my bicycle. Am sad, but too tired to feel deeply. Walk home. Fall asleep shortly afterwards.
Pictures are in the sidebar.
Showing posts with label museum. Show all posts
Showing posts with label museum. Show all posts
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Catch-Up
This is what happens when you have two very wonderful and busy weeks. You forget to write about the first cool experiences, so then you never write about the later ones since everything has to be recorded in order (of course).
Here's a wrap-up:
The end of November was overly bureaucratic with the JET mid-year conference and the day-trip to Takasaki to fill out paperwork for my re-entry permit. The beginning of December was a fresh start into why I enjoy this country.
On Sunday, December 2nd, Minoru-san and his wife invited me and Odelia on a fun day of adventure. They drove us to Omama station which is about an hour away from my apartment in a hilly and scenic part of Gunma. Their car, like every car I've been in, has a GPS system. Unlike in the US, these systems seem to be standard on cars here.
At Omama we bought a day pass and waited for the train to arrive. It was a chilly day, and I took advantage of the wondrous vending machines that sell hot beverages.
I am a big fan of public transportation and I practically squealed with delight when I saw the train we would be taking. Unlike the modern, silver, six-car trains that I was used to, the train along this route was a tiny, one car, diesel powered, trolley-like train.
The old fashioned train set the mood for the landscapes we were entering. There were no big towns; a few stations we passed had no attendants, no ticket machines. The scenery was gorgeous though. The tracks followed a river mostly filled with white boulders. Fall is late this year, and even in December the forests we were traveling through had brilliant colors.
We took the train to Goudo where we transfered to a bus that took us to the Tomihiro Hoshino art museum. Tomihiro's life is an interesting one. Paralyzed from the neck down when he was 24, he learned to paint and write by holding a brush in his mouth. His art is almost all of flowers or other plants. He also wrote brief poems on most of his paintings. His museum was truly encouraging.
After the museum (and a brief meander around its grounds), we returned to the station for a lunch in a nearby abandoned train car. We all got a large bowl of soba and tempura. The train was straight from the seventies with orange fabric on the chairs and orange accent glass.
Following this stop we continued on to a small village that was having a street party of some sort. A young musician was singing and playing piano, girls in modern kimonos were modeling, antique cars and trucks were parked nearby, and food vendors were selling drinks, yakisoba, and fish (on) sticks. Despite this lengthy list there wasn't much to see or do, so before long we left the village fair for the copper mine in Ashio.
Apparently, the abandoned Ashio copper mine was the origin of pollution in Japan. Or at least, that was how Minoru put it. I looked into it; it seems he was right. The mine was responsible for killing all the surrounding trees and fish, and poisoned many of the local residents. The mine tour was self-directed and rather disappointing. Clumsy dioramas and dusty display cases were all it had to offer. Sadly, I don't think it will ever get the World Heritage Site distinction it is seeking.
After the mine tour, we boarded a fancy looking train with large glass windows. Most unusual of all was that the train had tatami mat floors. You had to take your shoes off to enter. It was a pain since we were only traveling for one stop.
We got off at Mizunuma which was the place for the kick-off ceremony for the illumination celebration. The train line has a Christmas tradition of putting up lights and decorations at each of its stations (even those tiny attendant-less ones). The opening ceremony was fun. There were bands, dancing groups, speeches. It was also very cold, so our party spent most of the time inside the train station (that also had a restaurant, large gift shop, and public bath). When most of the crowd had dispersed, we got our chance to board the small diesel train and travel from station to station to see the lights and decorations. It wasn't as magical as it sounds. The conductor kept flicking the inside light on and off, unable to decide if the train should function as normal or be dark to better see the Christmas lights.
We ended where we had started and traveled home, stopping for dinner at a lovely restaurant where the waitresses dressed in kimonos. Odelia saw two of her students working at the restaurant. They were summoned over by Minoru and made to suffer through some basic English interrogation.
The second set of awesome isn't nearly as involved (so hold on a little bit longer). Last Friday I went to Oizumi, the next town over which has a large Brazilian community, to eat at a Brazilian restaurant. I ate coxinha which was delicious. At school the following Monday I mentioned that I ate coxinha. Apparently, it's a topic that was covered in the second year book. The teacher got a big kick out of it.
Saturday was another day with Minoru. He (sans wife) invited Odelia and I to a jazz concert and dinner. The jazz concert was at the Ota Citizen Hall. It was a contest between four University jazz bands. They were all very good, and the concert was fun. I would love to get a copy of the song Oye Mama.
After the concert he took us to what he called the best sushi restaurant in Ota. The restaurant looked more like a private residence. Minoru knew the owners. We didn't even look at menus. We sat down and minutes later food arrived. We had miso soup with some sort of tiny clams in it, succulent pieces of sushi (squid, tuna, fatty tuna, egg, mackeral, rolls), and tiny custard-y dessert topped with sesame sauce and raspberry jam. Oishii!!
I'm so glad there are incredible, generous people like Minoru and his wife in the world. They are making my time in Japan wonderful.
Here's a wrap-up:
The end of November was overly bureaucratic with the JET mid-year conference and the day-trip to Takasaki to fill out paperwork for my re-entry permit. The beginning of December was a fresh start into why I enjoy this country.
On Sunday, December 2nd, Minoru-san and his wife invited me and Odelia on a fun day of adventure. They drove us to Omama station which is about an hour away from my apartment in a hilly and scenic part of Gunma. Their car, like every car I've been in, has a GPS system. Unlike in the US, these systems seem to be standard on cars here.
At Omama we bought a day pass and waited for the train to arrive. It was a chilly day, and I took advantage of the wondrous vending machines that sell hot beverages.
I am a big fan of public transportation and I practically squealed with delight when I saw the train we would be taking. Unlike the modern, silver, six-car trains that I was used to, the train along this route was a tiny, one car, diesel powered, trolley-like train.
The old fashioned train set the mood for the landscapes we were entering. There were no big towns; a few stations we passed had no attendants, no ticket machines. The scenery was gorgeous though. The tracks followed a river mostly filled with white boulders. Fall is late this year, and even in December the forests we were traveling through had brilliant colors.
We took the train to Goudo where we transfered to a bus that took us to the Tomihiro Hoshino art museum. Tomihiro's life is an interesting one. Paralyzed from the neck down when he was 24, he learned to paint and write by holding a brush in his mouth. His art is almost all of flowers or other plants. He also wrote brief poems on most of his paintings. His museum was truly encouraging.
After the museum (and a brief meander around its grounds), we returned to the station for a lunch in a nearby abandoned train car. We all got a large bowl of soba and tempura. The train was straight from the seventies with orange fabric on the chairs and orange accent glass.
Following this stop we continued on to a small village that was having a street party of some sort. A young musician was singing and playing piano, girls in modern kimonos were modeling, antique cars and trucks were parked nearby, and food vendors were selling drinks, yakisoba, and fish (on) sticks. Despite this lengthy list there wasn't much to see or do, so before long we left the village fair for the copper mine in Ashio.
Apparently, the abandoned Ashio copper mine was the origin of pollution in Japan. Or at least, that was how Minoru put it. I looked into it; it seems he was right. The mine was responsible for killing all the surrounding trees and fish, and poisoned many of the local residents. The mine tour was self-directed and rather disappointing. Clumsy dioramas and dusty display cases were all it had to offer. Sadly, I don't think it will ever get the World Heritage Site distinction it is seeking.
After the mine tour, we boarded a fancy looking train with large glass windows. Most unusual of all was that the train had tatami mat floors. You had to take your shoes off to enter. It was a pain since we were only traveling for one stop.
We got off at Mizunuma which was the place for the kick-off ceremony for the illumination celebration. The train line has a Christmas tradition of putting up lights and decorations at each of its stations (even those tiny attendant-less ones). The opening ceremony was fun. There were bands, dancing groups, speeches. It was also very cold, so our party spent most of the time inside the train station (that also had a restaurant, large gift shop, and public bath). When most of the crowd had dispersed, we got our chance to board the small diesel train and travel from station to station to see the lights and decorations. It wasn't as magical as it sounds. The conductor kept flicking the inside light on and off, unable to decide if the train should function as normal or be dark to better see the Christmas lights.
We ended where we had started and traveled home, stopping for dinner at a lovely restaurant where the waitresses dressed in kimonos. Odelia saw two of her students working at the restaurant. They were summoned over by Minoru and made to suffer through some basic English interrogation.
The second set of awesome isn't nearly as involved (so hold on a little bit longer). Last Friday I went to Oizumi, the next town over which has a large Brazilian community, to eat at a Brazilian restaurant. I ate coxinha which was delicious. At school the following Monday I mentioned that I ate coxinha. Apparently, it's a topic that was covered in the second year book. The teacher got a big kick out of it.
Saturday was another day with Minoru. He (sans wife) invited Odelia and I to a jazz concert and dinner. The jazz concert was at the Ota Citizen Hall. It was a contest between four University jazz bands. They were all very good, and the concert was fun. I would love to get a copy of the song Oye Mama.
After the concert he took us to what he called the best sushi restaurant in Ota. The restaurant looked more like a private residence. Minoru knew the owners. We didn't even look at menus. We sat down and minutes later food arrived. We had miso soup with some sort of tiny clams in it, succulent pieces of sushi (squid, tuna, fatty tuna, egg, mackeral, rolls), and tiny custard-y dessert topped with sesame sauce and raspberry jam. Oishii!!
I'm so glad there are incredible, generous people like Minoru and his wife in the world. They are making my time in Japan wonderful.
