Sunday

Going on three hours of sleep and a slight hangover, we set off at eight in the Sunday morning in a small tour bus, carrying a few of us foreigners (Melanie, Katie, Heather, Blair, and myself) and a number of middle-aged members of the Kahoku City International Club (a small organization for Japanese people interested in international events, etc.) Our first destination, which only became known to me that morning, was the Fukui Prefectural, get this, Dinosaur Museum. Tucked away in the mountains of the prefecture just south of me, this is a fairly modern construction devoted to those fascinating creatures of millions of years ago. Due to slight traffic issues, it turned out we only had 50 minutes at the museum, but it was probably enough. They had all manner of electronic displays, replica skeletons, exhibits, and hundreds of bits of information about dinosaurs, their lives and times.


Two highlights of note: the first, two giant T.V. screens (actually like 16 big T.V.s stacked together on each side) facing each other, with a crowd standing in the middle. You basically view events of Jurassic times (brought to you through the marvels of CGI) on two interactive screens, meaning that things from one could jump to the other by running toward the crowd, leaping, and ending up on the other sides. Pretty cool, we watched a T-Rex type creature attacking them big guys with the long necks that eat from the tops of trees. The second interesting bit concerned animitronic dinosaurs (i.e. life-size plastic, etc. models that were designed to move exactly like the real thing.) It was definitely Jurassic Park style and quite fun to just stand there and observe the realistic movements, of which there were certainly many. Above and beyond, the best 50 minute museum experience I've ever had...


From there, we got back on the bus and headed to the lunch location for the day at an ALL-TOFU restaurant. When I found out, I almost freaked, because a meal without meat in it is something that I don't like to put myself through. But, turned out to be quite delicious in the end. We ate, literally, about six or seven types of tofu, each prepared in a unique way and served in a beautiful manner. Even the desert was soy-based, but luckily, the rice was just good old rice. After the experience, I became a slightly bigger fan of tofu, but its something that I will have on a rare occasion (naturally just to relish it all that much more)

Next destination, the highlight of the day, of the last couple of days or weeks, actually. First, some background.

In 1200 A.D. a monk named Dogen was born in Japan. Raised around Buddhist monasteries throughout his youth, he himself seriously undertook many practices, going as far as traveling to China and studying under a revered master of Zen, a still developing discipline at the time. According to leged, while in China, Dogen realized the way of the Buddha (which may or may not mean enlightenment) and returned to Japan to teach his own particular form of Zen, which eventually developed into the Soto Zen sect. Unsatisfied with the accomodations offered to him and his disciples by the existing monasteries in Japan, he decided to build a brand new monastery deep in the hills of western Japan where he could freely teach his particular way of practice. He succeeded and built a tremendous testament to his life and work that has withstood the test of time and remained a profoundly influential center of Zen practice to this very day, Eiheiji Temple.



We drove up the mountain, disemarked from the bus and walked through the rather large courtyard into the entrance of the main building in the compound. Amidst other crowds of similarly curious tourists (more on that later), we were met by a monk (or, as they're officially called, priest trainee) and led to the fifth floor and into a large, empty tatami room. All of us (probably around 30 or so) were given small round pillows and told to sit on the ground, on knees at first, later lotus style. Meanwhile, the monk introduced the practice and launched us into a full on zazen session. Now, for me, the whole idea of tucking my large legs under me and sitting still (yes, just the mere idea) is a painful one and here we were, right smack in the middle, getting a brief taste of the monk's life. The first three minutes or so were ok. A little uncomfortable, but bearable. And then, the pain started. First, the thighs, then the lower back, then everything, just throbbing. (All of this comes from, I'm assuming, the lack of practice and perhaps stretching). After five minutes, I was ready to die, but it was a thirty minute session. I felt like I would just fall over at some point and lay there, unable to move, but using every ounce of concentration and energy I had, I focused on the pain, imagining it be temporary, unreal. Didn't help, perhaps made it stronger. And remember, the whole point is to eliminate all thought all together, focus on the stillness, nothingness all around. It was raining heavily outside and all that was audible was the water, slowly running down walls, splashing into puddles. Thirty people, sitting completely still. The energy in the room was incredible, the silence occasionally punctured by the obvious sound of someone getting hit with a large wooden stick (I'm still not sure who it was, but as you may know, this is a common practice in Zen, to snap people to attention.) It was the longest, most powerful and painful thirty minutes of my life, and when the bell came to end the session, I felt like it had only lasted 8 or 9 minutes. Wow. Certainly something to be tried again.

After this, the monk led us on a tour of the monastery, which turned out to be absolutely huge. Many rooms, halls, monks walking around, leading other groups or engaging in all manner of chores. We saw the Founder's Hall, where Dogen's ashes (and of many successors) are kept in urns on prominent display. We saw the kitchen and numerous zazen halls. It was quite an elaborate construction, all devoted to this particular way of life. Utterly tremendous overall.

But, it did strike me just how many tourists there were, all having paid an admission price, all walking around hoping for a glimpse of a life they could never commit themselves to. And on top of that, the numerous stalls outside the monastery peddling all sorts of wares to these tourists. Yeah, on the one hand here is this 800 year old temple that has served as a center for enlightenment to so many aspiring Buddhists, and on the other its a commercial money-maker. Taints it a bit, but I won't go any further, because I have absolutely no right to pass judgment. Overall, I had a really refreshing time there and being inside such an institution was one reason for coming to Japan, so I'm fairly glad I got to do it. Oh, for those interested and planning on coming here, many of these types of monasteries, including this one, allow guests to stay in them and live like a monk for a day, two, or however many. It does not cost that much, but you do everything as the monks do, including zazen, eating, cleaning, etc. I'm planning on doing that soon and if anyone is interested, lets talk about it.



Ok. Enough out of me. Its been a long day, and a new week is about to start. Take care. Hope all is well.

Awe

Usually at night. Bonfires corner a tented ring, at the center of which lies a flattened mound of sand, with ropes marking the boundaries. Having just previously frequented the accompanying matsuri and dined on lovely Japanese okunomiyake or takoyaki or yakisoba or a variety of other freshly prepared dishes, the spectators slowly gather round, the luckier ones (or perhaps the ones with higher social standing) get the coveted three benches that line each side of the square. The PA comes on, squeaking out long passages, some devotional, some factual, but all with a deep air of tradition. Something hangs in the air, as if thousand year old rocks are about to come alive and grace those gathered here with their timeless presence. From the outsider's perspective, it does not, cannot, make logical sense. That which is unfolding is uniquely Japanese, uniquely tied to this land, to these people's hearts. I look, I see images, but there exists a missing link in my head. The PA quiets down, followed by a lonely drum beat. Soon, the silence is ruptured, as the taiko roars, and ten, twenty (one thousand) drummers unleash a violent sound storm into the night. The crowd hushes up, communally in awe. Any minute now it will begin and the anticipation is practically livid. The entrance to the big tent on the side slowly opens and from it emerge the starring attractions of the evening. Clad in extravagant kimonos, they slowly and determinedly, yet with an air of elegance, walk toward their stage, where for a few brief moments each of them will command the eyes, ears, and hearts of everyone present. The crowd admires, wihtout public judgment, even though privately all are making their bets. From appearances, it is difficult to tell who will be triumphant but all have been waiting a long time for this, eagerly preparing, anticipating. As the time nears for the starting gong, the kimonos are shed, revealing rather large human bodies, dressed in nothing but a thick strong cloth designed to cover the minimal and the most private part of the male anatomy. It turns out these are all kids, high school students, between 15 and 18 years of age, but from their size and demeanor, they almost look older, wiser. The referee, dressed in the most elaborate kimono of all, steps into the center of the ring and makes what appear to be introductory announcements. The gong sounds and the tournament begins. In all, there are probably fifty wrestlers, each of whom has committed (or perhaps sacrificed) his mind and body to this endeavor known as sumo, the national sport of Japan...

We all heard of it, some of us may have seen it on TV, if only for a few brief moments, but I don't think any of us, including myself, had the slightest idea about the importance, relevance, and esteem of this tradition in Japan. The most popular sport in Japan is, by far, baseball, an American import, which undoubtedly must be a bane to the pride of many Japanese. And so they revere sumo, which, with its more than a thousand year tradition, cannot be claimed by any other culture or nation. Originally closely linked to the Shinto faith, the sport has evolved to become a major phenomenon(The fact that, professionally, the sport is currently dominated by non-Japanese (with the rising star hailing from Bulgaria) must also cause some consternation, but nevertheless.) This is much more than a purely spectator sport, because intuitively it isn't all that much to look at. (I mean, and I say this without any offense, the main sight is two unusually fat men, wearing nothing but thick thongs, slapping, grabbing, hugging, and trying to lift the other out of the ring or drop them on the ground.) Because it is so wound up in tradition, because it has been happening for a very long time, and because it provides an occasion for local residents to come together and enjoy their community, it is inevitably reveered and will continue to thrive for a good long time to come. Surely, there is a professional aspect to it, just like any other major sport, but to become a sumo wrestler is to be respected, admired, and loved much more than a major league baseballer or NBAer. Training usually starts in elementary school and continues on through to high school. Naturally, many do not pursue it past that, but some do, and it comes to dominate an entire lifestyle. There's so much more to say, about all the rules, all the ranks, all the special moves, but that's for another time and place...

The first two fighters emerge, face each other. Each bows to their coaches, to the judges, to the referee. Each brushes aside some sand, goes down into the posture, slaps his thights, rises up again, walks up to the starting line. Again, they engage in ritual, eyeing each other all the while. Finally, they get in the ready stance, crouching, both fists firmly in the ground. The referee gives his mark, and they're off. It lasts but a few seconds, ending brusquely with a throw or a simply push. At the end, they both bow, the winner squats in victory. They walk off, and two more fighters emerge. The weeks and months of training are devoted to those few split seconds of glory, of ultimate reverence. As I have said before, it is beyond my comprehension, but well within the bounds of my awe...

http://www.absoluteastronomy.com/encyclopedia/s/su/sumo.htm

Finally

I finally, after months of waiting and impatience, got internet at home. So, I'm a very happy camper and I would like to explore the whole skype thing if anyone is interested. Also, who does AIM? Anyone? Its nice and convenient and I got on there (SN is mjkteat). Let me know yours.

Ok. Off to KZ. Oh, put some new pics up, take a look, if you're interested...

http://public.fotki.com/PhotoMoose/romans/nippon_fall_2005/

Take care.

Bit O' Travel

The last two weekends of my life have been spent away from home. A couple of weeks ago, some friends and I swung down to Nagoya, which is Japan’s third largest city. Let me tell you, after spending a few months in the countryside, it was really good to see the crowds again, and I do mean crowds in the mosh pit sense of the word. It was especially bad that weekend because it was the closing two days of the World Expo. For those of you not in the know, every five years, at some previously chosen point, there is a World Exposition. In 2000, it was held in Hanover, Germany, and in 2010 it will be in Shanghai, but this year (it opened in March) it was held in Aichi, Japan, which is just outside of Nagoya. Basically, it is a huge (we’re talking multiple square miles) area where various countries set up pavilions and display all kinds of things about themselves. It’s a chance for others who may not get a chance to travel much to see and learn about all parts of the world. But more on that in its chronological time and place. Friday was a day off, so we hopped on the bus in the morning and a short 3.5 hours later, we arrived in the heart of Nagoya. The rush of seeing thousands of people walking the streets made me feel somewhat alive, refreshed. It was definitely a good energy. We got on the metro and rode down to Sakae, the shopping district, to grab a bite to eat before heading to Nagoya Castle, one of the few “touristy” sight seeing attractions of the city (because the city fell victim to massive bombing raids during World War II, most of it had to be rebuilt, which would explain why most of the buildings are not more than fifty years old, a fact that explains Nagoya’s lack of standard “old” sightseeing attractions.) Naturally, we got there at 4:27 PM and the castle and the park surrounding it closed down at 4:30. So we took what glimpses we could and just sat around, waited for the sun to go down, got bit by these nasty little flies and headed off for the dining location for the evening, an Okinawan restaurant.

There, we were actually meeting some Japanese folks (Melanie’s (Melanie is one of the people we were with) ex-boyfriend is Japanese and lives in Nagoya and showed up with some of his friends to the restaurant)). At first, it was somewhat odd, because of the language barrier but the sake got going and seemed to at least melt it away a little bit. The food turned out to be not so good (but expensive enough to pretend to be good) and there was this one-man band there who sang Okinawan music, which was ok for about three songs, but then seemed like he put them on repeat. We finished up quickly and then were taken by Hiroshi (the ex-boyfriend) to this Australian bar down the street, which featured an eclectic mix of music as well as Japanese and foreigners. We hung there for three hours or so, continuing the merriment, getting to know each other, the locals, and even some other fellow JETS from the Nagoya area. It was actually a pretty good time and I got to know phone number number one for the weekend. At about 1:00 AM or so, we began the three hour search for the lodgings for the evening (remember that EXPO, yeah, everything was booked) which was to be that unique Japanese creation, the Love Hotel.

What is a love hotel? Well, in Japan, many young people live with their parents much longer than in other countries (probably due to a little bit of the “lack of vast open lands for people to live in” as well as Japan being quite a filial society). So, its quite common to find 20 somethings living with their parents and grandparents in the same house (hmm, I can say the same for myself) and obviously it would be quite a tricky feat to bring a loved one (or simply an attracted one) to the house and engage in acrobatics with one’s grandmother sleeping in the next room. Luckily, there’s a love hotel down the street where you can get a room by the hour or for the entire night. Another reason is that (and this is much more of a conjecture on my part) in Japan, the idea of fidelity is an important one on a very shallow level. In public appearance and within the realm of the “talked about,” yeah, everyone is faithful, involved in deeply committed, loyal, treasured relationships and marriages. But, within the more hush, hush private realm, this is highly not the case. Cheating, in fact, is quite common and even perhaps acceptable and tolerated, as long as it is not openly talked about, takes place out of sight, out of mind, and is kept purely between the two (or more) committing the act. Something everybody knows, no one will admit, and it continues to operate, and a love hotel is a perfect invention to keep this mechanism going. The basic set up is the following. Outside urban centers, the building has as many garages as it has rooms. You pull into a garage, you walk up a set of stairs, and you go into your room (all the rooms are unlocked). Once you are in, you are locked in until you choose to leave. (There is no checking into a love hotel, there is no come and go as you please). In more urban spots, you park in a communal garage, but there is a separate in and out elevator, so you never have to cross paths with anyone coming out. Once inside, the rooms are actually quite nice. They are super clean (another amazing feat of Japanese technical wizardry) and contain all the amenities suitable to living up to the name of the institution. Once you are finished with the room, you leave and pay for the time you were in there (its all electronically monitored through the opening and closing of the door) through a slot in the wall. Slide money in, leave, and no one knows any different…conclude what you will…

Since they are cheaper than regular hotels, we had decided that it would be a convenient place to spend the night. They are usually pretty easy to spot, as they are decorated with all kinds of crazy neon signs and have strange architecture, as well as ringer names like “Malibu Oasis” or “Heaven Hotel.” The first one we went to was all filled up, completely. In the lobby, there were several waiting rooms, but we decided that it might be a long wait. The second had a Ferrari F-150 standing behind a glass case in the garage, but it too turned out to be quite full. At this point, we assumed that all the ones in the downtown area would be full, so we began to make our way out to the suburbs, which would be closer to next day’s destination anyway. Two or three hotels later, we finally found one that had vacancies (thank god for those Japanese friends, who literally drove around for like two, three hours trying to find a bunch of foreigners a love hotel). It was an individual garage set up and we finally got up to our room, which we would be sharing between five people. The room had a small living room area with a T.V. and a fridge containing a number of “things” other than the usual hotel fridge fare. The bathroom was nice, all granite and stone like, with a huge shower area and a rather big Jacuzzi. But the highlight was the bedroom. Literally, every inch of the walls and ceilings were covered with mirrors (even the windows were mirrored); never quite been in a room like it. The bed was a king and had speakers and stereo built in. On the whole a rather nice room, except we couldn’t figure out how to turn off the A/C, so it got quite cold. We slept for about four hours, before setting off for the EXPO. (As a side note, many of these hotels come with themed rooms – i.e. ocean, jungle, Paris, use your imagination.)

Since we were in the middle of nowhere and didn’t really know how to get to where we were going, we had to hitch hike. (Here’s a lovely picture for you – six foreigners standing outside of a Love Hotel, trying to flag down a car). After only five minutes, a nice Japanese man in a van pulled over and offered to drive us to the train station, which we discovered was for a railroad (an elevated monorail) that was built specifically for the EXPO. We got to the grounds (which were humongous), queued up, and got in. First thing we did was to ride the aerial gondolas to get an idea of what we were up against. They took us across the entire expo and upon disembarking, we ended up right next to the Russian pavilion (yeah baby) and so that was our first stop. The theme of this EXPO was the environment and conservation and all that good stuff, so many of the pavilions were devoted to exhibiting what particular countries are doing for this cause. The Russian one wasn’t all that interesting, actually, so it proved to be a quick breeze. From there, it was on to the UK, Switzerland, Holland (yeah baby), Africa (funny how all these countries get their own pavilion, and then there’s the country of Africa.) We had some pretty good African food (ostrich curry, I didn’t know they had ostriches in Africa). Among others we visited were Germany, Spain, Iran, Nepal, India, China, Qatar (yeah, that’s a country), Australia, and my personal favorite, Bhutan (a tiny Buddhist country up in the Himalayas). It would be too much to go into details here about all these pavilions (if you’re interested, then google “World Expo 2005 Aichi”) but I will make a number of remarks. First, we saw only a brief part of the Expo and it would literally take days to see the whole thing because it was so huge. Second, because it was the second to the last day (of an EXPO that started last March) there were approximately a billion people there, which meant that the lines to get into these pavilions were quite long, and very reminiscent of waiting for the rides at Great America. But, in many cases we avoided that problem, because between us we had seven languages with some level of conversation, and so we sweet talked our way into some pavilions without having to wait at all. These pavilions were run by people from those countries. The German case was most striking, where the line was 3.5 hours (yeah, 3.5 hours). Two of the girls we were with spoke German and flirted with the German fellow at the front and we got in after only five minutes. I actually felt quite guilty walking in front of all these poor Japanese who had been standing in line for so long. But, so be it… Third, it was interesting to see that the richer countries could afford to make highly elaborate displays actually having to do with the environment, etc. while the poorer ones were mostly bazaars, selling stuff from their countries for excessively inflated prices (i.e. Nepal, where I briefly considered buying an elaborate mandala that would have run me about $100). After an exhausting day, we made our way back into the city, got freshened up in the subway bathroom, and tried booking a room at the Hilton for a healthy $279/night. But, alas, they were booked up as well and we were left with a night on the town.

We met up another friend of Melanie’s (the soon to be phone number number three) and headed for our destination for the evening, the id Bar. On our way, we stopped over at an amusement arcade (a whole other entry at some point in the future) where we went to the photo booths for some pictures. These are not like the photo booths that you know. They are quite spacious (could fit up to eight people) and afterwards you can add a gajillion effects and alterations to your photos, print them, email them, probably animate them, and all sorts of other business. Here, I met phone number number two and her friend, and we took some pictures. Fun times. Finally, we got to the club, sorted out our luggage in the lockers, and began to properly enjoy the night. It was one of those four story things, where each story has a bar and a dj is spinning a different type of music. We chilled in the basement for a while, where it was mostly 80s stuff, including Thriller. Then, up to the first floor, where there was some trance and house (yeah, baby, yeah). It was amazing to see Japanese people dance to this stuff. There was a bit of a state, which was actually a series of long steps, and the dancers lined up on it and faced the crowd. Each had a glow stick or two and they danced in complete uniformity to the music. It was hot and sweaty and an entirely really good time (best time I’ve had out dancing in a while…) At around 2:00, the place shut, and we left, walking the streets of Nagoya, enjoying the night with its denizens. Feeling a bit of the old hunger, we went to (drum roll please), Denny’s. The mere sight of it got me really excited because I have been dreaming of a Moons over my Hammy for quite some time, but it turned out to serve Japanese food, plus some strange pasta dishes, with the only similarity with its American counterpart being a side of French toast. But, food is food and it had to do. At a healthy 3:30, it was time to find a place to crash, and what better place to do so than a 24 hour karaoke parlor, where you rent a room by the hour to sing your heart away. Of course we didn’t realize that the room would be the size of a prison cell, perfect for singing and drinking, not quite so right for housing six people for the night. But, there was no choice, we laid out how we could, three on the floor (me by the door, two underneath the table) and three on the little benches that lined the wall. Let me tell you it was the most atrocious sleeping experience I’ve had in a while, but we shared it all together and actually managed to get some hours of sleep. (And we didn’t even bother singing). The next day, we had a nice traditional Japanese breakfast, headed to the bus station and some hours later, came back to sleepy, old Ishikawa, to conclude an exhausting but thoroughly enjoyable weekend. Definitely will go back to Nagoya at some point as it was a very nice city and why not put those phone numbers to good use?

And just as you thought this intolerably long blog was coming to its conclusion, there’s still a whole other weekend to write about, last weekend. But I’ll make it as short and brief as possible… I went to Nagano (the site of the ’98 Winter Olympics) where there was an all Japan ALT soccer tournament. Basically, every prefecture (i.e. Ishikawa, sort of like the states in the US) has ALTs (me, Assistant Language Teacher), and some of them get together to start up a soccer team (both boys and girls have their own team). And so the Ishikawa team, along with about twenty or so others got together in Nagano for a two days soccer tourney. Our team isn’t very good and I’m not even on it, but I got bamboozled into going as a spectator and a cheerer. It was about a four hour drive, and it turned out to be not in Nagano proper, but in the mountains just outside of the city (a hell of a ways up in the mountains, in fact, where a nice big plateau housed a bunch of hotels and soccer pitches). The first night was all strategy and getting some rest. The next day, Saturday, soccer was played all day. I watched a girls’ match (I’m sorry, but it was utterly pathetic) and four of the boys’ matches, which were actually enjoyable to watch. Our boys team (historically highly bad) actually managed to win one of these, but it was hard work. That night, the hotel hosted a party for us (there were like three hundred people) and being there actually felt like being back home (its funny how that sometimes happens, especially when I’m surrounded by other foreigners, I briefly forget where I am, and when I do remember, its quite a shock.) Everyone was quite exhausted, except me, who had done nothing but lounge around all day on the grass and yell occasional “I say Ishi, you say Kawa – Ishi, Kawa.” The dj was kind of crap and so many congregated outside, talked, relaxed, and even though the whole thing was a disgusting meat market, I did manage to meet some nice interesting people. Hm, where did Roman spend the night?
The next day was the elimination tournament and both of our teams got through one game before being eliminated. We ate some kareraisu for lunch (pronounce that slowly several times and you’ll figure out what it is) and headed home. On the way, we got a speeding ticket (a big no no in Japan, I wasn’t driving luckily), and the fine was a whopping $350 for going like 30 km over. Anyway, another long, happy weekend in Japan, returning to the countryside and resuming the responsible working life. Ok, I think I have exhausted myself writing this (but it has to be the longest blog ever). If fact, I doubt that anyone got this far…

Anyway, hope all are well. Missing the home land. This weekend, I’m off to Osaka, for a concert. Sooo excited. The OFFSPRING baby. Yeah, baby. Yeah, baby. When we went to buy tickets for the show, they were almost sold out and they could only sell individual tickets, as there were no seats left that were together. So we buy one, and kaboom, its sold out. And who got that last ticket? Yeah, baby. Terribly excited. And plus I get to see Osaka…

Ok, boys and girls, take care of yourselves and go do something productive… Much love…
P.S. Read Mr. Murakami’s “The Kidney Shaped Stone That Moves” in the New Yorker. Its quite good. In other Murakami news, sometime next year, he will release another volume of short stories in the U.S.. In Japan, he has either recently published or will soon publish his newest novel, After Dark. Who knows when that’ll be translated, but hopefully soon, but not before the next TOOL disc. Ok, ok, I’m done, I’m done. Out.