Hitting The Ground Running...

Greetings all!
I tried writing on Tuesday, but where we were (Aiina, I talk about it later), the blogs and Facebook did not work very well. Now I finish this up at 11pm Japan time, listening to the crickets outside my window.
Leaving Seattle was blissful. As in, at 6 in the morning, lines were long, but went fast, TSA was friendly (SERIOUSLY. They were JOKING around. The passport checker was smiling, asking why I didn’t smile in my photo, another guy read the stickers on my laptop, and a woman commented on how pretty the cherry blossom wrapping paper was sticking out of my 2nd carry on bag. &@#%$!), and flights were on time kind of blissful. Not blissful as in “GET ME OUT FO HERE!” No, not at all. To San Francisco was a breeze. There, in the international terminal, I chatted for a little while with Mom, Dad, Mandi, and Eric, and tried to not burst into tears. I left a message for you Mike, and I hope you like the fact that I am VERY angry that you beat me at my own game. J But I am so very thankful to have the picture of us at Coldplay-it is in my backpack with me ALWAYS. Thank you SO VERY MUCH. And all the fabulous tidbits and your ADDRESS. YES. On the plane, I watched ‘Duplicity’, ‘The Great Buck Howard’, ’17 Again’, and ‘Ghosts of Girlfriends Past’ while traveling 5,111 miles in an arc hugging Alaska en route to Narita.
Arriving at Narita was relatively painless. Customs was, like all good things, worth the wait. I arrived around 2:30 and the meeting time was 2-6pm. However, the orientation booklet map of the meeting place is somewhat rudimentary, so I took the escalator down to the baggage claim floor and found my bags super fast. Then I stood awkwardly on the baggage claim floor, looking around for other gaikokujin (foreigners). Many existed and I had the distinct impression some did not speak Japanese. However, others greatly surprised me in their one-word utterances of the native language. I waited a little while longer, then asked a man if I was in the right terminal. I was, so that boosted my confidence. If you know me, you know how I can make small things into huge problems. As in, I can become VERY stressed VERY easily. I am sure all or most of you have at one point told me to “calm down” or “relax” or “chill out”. Well, this time I told myself. And I was fine. J I decided to go back up to the balcony outside of customs and look down onto the floor. It was an amazing feat of strength-carrying my duffel bag in my left hand, holding my 2nd carry on bag under my left arm, and carrying my suitcase in my right hand. Again, I was very proud of my accomplishment because we were told that we should be able to carry our luggage by ourselves. Especially because air conditioning is not very prevalent. Most places have a somewhat cooler feeling when inside, but not the ice box that the dormitories are at Earlham or how the shopping malls are in Texas during summer or how Seattle businesses were the past month. Since four months is a while, I can see why it is not feasible for some to be able to carry their own luggage. In addition, some of our group members were in Japan before the rest of us-visiting friends, family, or simply showing up early to make us all look bad. J
I quickly noticed that a girl who had just come out of Customs was a fellow group member, Nicole. I went up to her and started going on and on in my crazy nervous talk about how cool it was that we were finally here! It seemed like just YESTERDAY we were in LBC 211 TALKING about going to Japan. But now it was HERE! She told me Mitchell, another soon-to-be best friend, was close behind as they had flown in on the same flight (unplanned). Nicole is from Brookfield, Connecticut and Mitchell hails from Ithaca, New York. Claire, from Ossining, New York, was close behind, and together we escalatored down to baggage. It took a little while to get Claire’s bags, but then we had the gargantuan task of finding Sensei (‘teacher’ in Japanese and trip leader) and Yuki (program coordinator). We looked at the cryptic map and wasted a few more minutes before Nicole brought her BRILLIANCE and suggested we exit baggage towards the street because (a) the meeting place was close to the street on the map and (b) Sensei and Yuki would not be able to enter from outside. So we did. Mitchell had to fill out a customs form we all already had, so we all exited and he came out later, but when we exited into the light, THERE THEY WERE! Elizabeth, from Melbourne, Florida, was exchanging money, so we had to wait for her, but after she joined us, we went to the desk where we could send a bag ahead to our host family rather than keep it with us and have it be a burden while we stayed at the Narita Airport Rest House for one night and then in Morioka for three nights at the Kumagai Ryokan.
Samantha, from Glenwood, Indiana, and Tamara, from Chicago, Illinois, and Abhishek (Abhi) Nanavati, from Mumbai, India (now Uganda) had already arrived. Tamara has family in Japan and had been there since June. Samantha had been visiting friends for a week and Abhi had arrived a few days early and stayed in Tokyo. He had been at an internship in Yemen for Coca-Cola all summer. Wow.
That first night was great. Ethan, from Fairmount, Indiana finally joined us when we were all dining on the fourth floor of the airport. His plane was majorly delayed. But it all worked out. Going to the airport (minus Ethan) was fine. We all stayed together and there were no problems. We were given 2000¥ (= to about $20.00) for dinner that night in Narita and for a bento for lunch the next day when we would take the train from Narita to Tokyo and stop at the train station en route to Morioka. For dinner, there was much deliberation. Some people had enough of their own money to splurge on dinner. Others saw it necessary (and money conscious) to stick to the allotted money we had been given to buy meals with. After dinner, the smokers (Abhi and Tamara and Ethan, but Ethan did not join them this time) went off to smoke. The rest of us began walking back to the Rest House. On the way, Mitchell and Ethan went to check out a stand, so the rest of us kept going. We checked to see if Abhi and Tamara were where they might be, but they weren’t. We backtracked to check for Ethan and Mitchell, but to no avail. So we five continued back. There were three rooms-Claire, Elizabeth, and Nicole in one. Abhi, Mitchell, and Ethan on their left. Tamara, Samantha, and me on their right. Tamara had our key, so Samantha and I could not get into the room. Instead, we spent time with Elizabeth, Claire, and Nicole. VERY TIRED, I wove in and out of consciousness for a half hour. Then spent another 20 minutes weaving in and out on my bed once Tamara came back and we were able to get back into our room. This was worse than that time in the hallway, Anne. This was PAST slap happy. This was straight up FATIGUE. And it just doesn’t feel good when fatigue hits. At 9pm however, we had a team meeting. We’re a team in my mind, so it wasn’t called a team meeting, but for all intensive purposes, that is what I shall call it. We took a picture together, talked about breakfast and the schedule for the next day, and then we all went to bed. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep while Samantha and Tamara were having a conversation…Felt good to sleep though!
The next day (Tuesday, August 18th), we had a GREAT breakfast of eggs and toast and fruit salad with plain yogurt and rice, etc. Oh buffets, how you KILL me. All in all, we were well satisfied for our train ride from Narita to Tokyo Station. Great ride in. We all get along very well in whichever formation you put us in. No hard feelings. No grudges. No snide remarks. Except that when I am in a new situation, I tend to be a bit snappy, a tad short, and somewhat harsh. Pretty arrogant too. And it’s a defense mechanism. But I do not know what I am defending against. Sometimes I become quiet, rather than arrogant, but on this trip I became arrogant. It was NOT me and I did NOT like it. I say “did NOT” because I think the worst is over and I do not feel I am acting in that way now, six days in.
After arriving at Kumagai Ryokan (Japanese inn) by taxi from airport, (I am considered “oukii” by Sensei. “Big”.) we had a little meeting where we were given our cellular phones and cold tea as it was still quite warm outside. We then taxied to alien registration at city hall where it was like any governmental office in the United States but SO MUCH BETTER. People wait patiently. Things are done in an orderly manner. People understand and appreciate that things take time and are okay with that. Where Americans, or people at American offices, might notice disrespect, restlessness, impatience or act disrespectfully, restlessly, or impatiently, there is NONE of that here. Therefore, gaikokujin like ourselves (or at least myself) feel comfortable and not stressed or upset. There was paperwork-very thorough and kind. We eventually went to more paperwork upstairs and while we were waiting, began plugging each other’s numbers into our phones. Before, we did not have the proper cards or account numbers to activate the phones, but Yuki went out and got the information so we could set up our accounts. We had to dial a number and press some more numbers and save for one person, all the directions were in English without us having to press 2 to change the language.
When we were done, we walked past the river (where salmon swim up in fall), into Iwate Park (where we will be participating in a parade in September), and then out down Oodori (main street with lots of karaoke places) and into Daiso (a hyaku-en shop or $1.00 store), where anything in there would DEFINITELY cost more than a dollar in America. SO WONDERFUL. We made our way down Cinema Row, past the post office and largest bank in Morioka, and wound up at dinner at a restaurant owned by a high school friend of Yuki’s. OH. MY. GOODNESS. Rice, okra-like sticky food with caper-like toppings (great with soy sauce!), fried chicken, salad, miso soup, yakisoba with green onions and wasabi, and watermelon for dessert. Japanese individuals eat in a triangle, Sensei said-bite of chicken, bite of rice, wash it down with miso, repeat. Abhi, the starving Indian child, ate anyone’s rice or chicken that they didn’t want. The Human Garbage Disposal.
After finishing and while we let our food digest, we all set up email accounts, which is basically text messaging. We returned, via foot, to the Ryokan and were told to be back by 9pm (we left the restaurant at about 7pm and were back at the Ryokan at ~7:20pm) as a curfew. Tamara, Samantha, Ethan, Mitchell, Abhi, and I walked towards Oodori, stopping at Cat and Dog, the liquor store down the road. We all bought different drinks. I had a “Sparkling Yogurito”-delicious sake for 210¥ (~$2.10). However, being the always-up-to-digest-anything person that I am, I opened it outside, which is bad form, Abhi reminded me. Usually, there is no eating while walking and no drinking while walking. Traditionally, people buy drinks at vending machines and finish them there, throwing them away in the trash cans nearby. So I put the bottle in my back pocket and walked around that way. Like it was any better. *shakes head*
The next day, (Wednesday, August 19th), we began our orientation on general culture and host family. Then we went to Aiina, a local library/community center/office building (so much of Japan is multipurpose), where we heard Fumie Sugawara (Sugawara Sensei) talk to us about how to teach English and the Japanese education system in general. She is from the Morioka Board of Education. The building itself is quite contemporary-glass, open, natural light. When we returned to the Ryokan, we were told what time our host families would come to pick us up for dinner (we were to wrap and take our omiyage, gifts, and have dinner with them that night). My host mother and host sister arrived around 5:45pm. I gave my host mother Chukar Cherries and a Seattle mug AND my mother knitted a scarf for her and enclosed a card (which was SO well written and SO touching) which she and my host sister pretty much understood, so I didn’t need to translate, my host sister cards of Seattle scenes (many different skyline shots), my host father salmon, my host brother a t-shirt, which I think is SO cool (it has a street map of Seattle behind the word “Seattle” written diagonally across the chest and a small Space Needle where it would be on the map), and the family a Seattle 2010 calendar. Hopefully that makes up a little bit for the fact that I keep stepping in the wrong place when I take my shoes off. But it never could make up for that error, so I’ll do better. I returned to the Ryokan at around 10pm. One small thing-I forgot to take the price tag off the salmon, which was TERRIBLE. TERRIBLE HORRIBLE NO GOOD VERY BAD THING. *sigh* I did take it off soon after, but that kind of faux pas just knocked me off my feet. I was able to talk a lot with Hanako, my host sister, which was great! My host mother prepared dinner and when I asked if I could help, she said not now, but next time. Ko, my host brother, came home around 7pm from badminton practice. It is usual for him to come home around this time and we eat soon after he arrives. He is a high school student, wants to be a doctor, and will take his university entrance exams in March of 2011. We had curry, which is popular here, and a beautiful salad with shrimp. For dessert, there were Chukar Cherries, melon, and pears. There was a great deal of conversation and it was wonderful! That night/early the next morning at 4am, I woke up, my mind RACING in Japanese. WHAT. A. RUSH.
When I began writing this at 2:25pm Japan Time on Saturday, August 22, 2009, (10:24pm in Seattle (Friday August 21, 2009) and 1:24am in Indiana (Friday August 21, 2009)), I was listening to birds chirp outside my window and some kind of saw doing something. It sounded oddly American and very out of place. After all, I am in a neighborhood…I moved into my host family’s house last night and love my room. It is my host sister’s (Hanako’s) room and while she is home on summer vacation from economics university in Yokohama (break only lasts from August 19th until October 1st; she is in her first year), she graciously sleeps with my host mother. It is small and so manageable: a large dresser (I am very proud I do not fill the seven available drawers), closet (there is a hanging rod as well as a large storage space underneath), desk (Hanako likes Minnie Mouse, so a seat pad of her is on the chair), and bed (long enough, which is wonderful and has never been a problem, though you would think so…). My host brother (Ko) has his room next door. He is a second year high school student (school here is age 3-5 kindergarten; grades 1-6/ages 6-12 for elementary school; grades 1-3/ages 12-15 for junior high school; and ages 15-18 for senior high school; university is from age 18 on). My host father, so far, sleeps downstairs in a tatami mat room off the main living room. It was still warm enough last night to have only one sheet (in my case, a bath towel), but this afternoon, it was noticeable cooler. People are beginning to talk about it becoming fall, which I think is a good thing. I get tired of sweating sometimes. But only sometimes. And it is Japan, so I’m not THAT tired. J
We start school on Monday, at Gandai University (6,000 students, many internationals) where we will be taking classes on Mondays and Thursdays. I tested into a level of Japanese that is “elementary”, which I hope will help me in my need to know more of the foundation of the language in order to speak better, write better, read better, be better… Japanese classes are 9am-noon Mondays and Thursdays. The classes taught by our leader (Yasumi Kuriya), are an education course and a culture course and are from 1-4pm on Mondays and Thursdays. On Tuesdays, Wednesday mornings, and Fridays, we will teach at our host schools (mine is Senboku). I am fortunate to have a school that is a five minute bike ride away, but not so fortunate as well because I enjoy biking. (Gandai is a 30-minute bike ride now, but a straightforward, easy, long route, according to my host father. My host brother and sister want to show me a shorter way once I feel comfortable with the route.)
The bicycles in Japan, as my mother and others who are reading this may know, are much heavier than American ones. Their tubes are wider, many have baskets on the front, are more relaxed, have a total of 3 gears (if you’re lucky), the lock is built in as a mechanism that blocks the back or front wheel’s spokes from moving, and they can coast much easier (I think). They don’t go very fast unless you exert a great deal of effort. If I were just learning to ride, these bikes would be optimal to learn on because they take things slow. I saw a Bianchi and Specialized locked up at Morioka Station and my jaw dropped. It dropped again when I saw a young man riding such a bike in Lycra shorts. They stand out SO MUCH. Those bikes have handlebars, for those who may not follow because my English is dying, that are indicative of racing, and are found on most road/touring bikes (are they called wraparound handlebars?). Mountain bikes usually have handlebars that stick straight out, relaxed bikes have the handlebars that kind of curve in the signature “cruiser” style, etc. Japanese bikes are much like cruisers. Also rare are helmets. Like Indiana, there seems to be no law. Then again, cars here show bicyclists great respect. Not head-bowing, please-go-ahead-of-me-I-am-not-worthy-with-my-gas-tank, but a general opinion that an accident isn’t worth it. I like that.
It’s strange to see BMWs, 4 door Isuzu Trooper-like cars, Volvo station wagons (Saw my first one today! YAHOO!), etc. Usually, cars pass you and the names don’t even ring a bell because the Japan market is just THAT special. A Prius went by and I balked. That thing is HUGE, I thought. Here, Honda Fits RULE, (Mackenzie, I am glad you have one! And every time I pass one I think of you!) as do any cars with only two doors. SMART cars would look out of place though because they are not practical. To succeed in Japan, you must marry logic, practicality, applicability, and ingenuity. That’s one huge ceremony! Baka nee…
The greatest thing about Japan is that all traffic goes the opposite way as America. Cars go on the left side of the street and bicycles do too, though proper bike lanes are absent. I think driving is safer here because the driver’s seat is on the right, therefore allowing drivers to see how close they are driving to oncoming traffic. It’s much more personal in my opinion. Like Takayama, where my mom and I first noticed this, there is VERY LITTLE ORDER to how pedestrians and bicycles navigate the sidewalks (often bicycles will travel on sidewalks when buses block the two feet of bike lane they call home or when traffic is heavy, etc.). For instance, today, my host father and I picked up my bike from where I locked it at Gandai on Thursday, and rode back home. At one point, a group of women had disembarked from a tour bus. After getting off, they stood in one place. However, one woman walked a little bit away from the group and my host father chose to ride between her and her two (perhaps travel companions). If that woman would have turned around and been more startled (she actually seemed to be generally unfazed), it could have been terrible. I could see that DEFINITELY happening in America. But bicycles on sidewalks are a problem anywhere where pedestrians do not expect them to be there, areas of high congestion especially. And luckily, this is NOT Tokyo.
I don’t know if I will be able to EVER do such a time-intensive entry again, but I hope I can put the same kind of love into future ones. Please know that I wish each and every one of you were able to share this experience-that is why I am including you. I hope that wherever you are, it is comfortable, full of joy, and looking sunny in one way or another. I do not want to detract from the Japan experience, so I will not be glued to my email or Facebook. But knowing me, I will be glued enough, just to get by. I miss every single one of you. I saw dinosaurs in a hyaku en shop and thought of you, E Frye. I saw ‘Tarzan’ magazine (for male fitness and health) and thought of you, Eric. I saw a Croc bag (I KNOW, right?!?!??!) and thought of you, Mom. I see bikes and think of you, Dad. I can get texts on my regular American cell phone, but I cannot send them. Email (AOL and Earlham) is the best way to get a hold of me, and I can be on Skype. If you want to chat sometime, send me your username and it could work. Minnasan, ganbarimasu ne! (Good luck everyone!)