The next adventure

Onwards and upwards to Nagano prefecture! In a few minutes I leave for an 8-day camp in Nagano where I'll be assisting with dance, drama, and calligraphy (not quite sure how that happened but I hope to learn while I help!) classes in addition to evening storytelling in English. I was a camp counselor in high school but those camps were normally two or three days, and I always left wishing they had been longer. Since we'll be in the countryside, we are blissfully unplugged which I'm looking forward to but it means no posts for a week. Hope you have a wonderful weekend!

A country that takes care of itself

Since I arrived six weeks ago today, I have been consistently impressed by the way Japanese people care for each other and the way their country cares for them. Previously I linked to an article about Japanese soccer fans cleaning up after their losses in the World Cup, and whenever I bring that up to people here they don't think much of it because for them it is an understood responsibility to tidy up after any large public gathering. This is just one of countless examples I've witnessed and I'll try to paint a picture of a few other key acts of kindness to show the degrees of this habituated caring.

A few mornings each week I've gone for a jog in Setagaya park which is near both of my homestays. The first time I went, I got confused on my way back to the homestay so I asked a passerby the direction of my host family's neighborhood. The next day, I saw this same elderly gentleman at the park and he stopped me to ask if I was doing well (genki, desu ka?). I responded affirmatively and tried my best to thank him for pointing me in the right direction. Then he gestured for me to open my hand and he placed an ice cube in it. There's really nothing better to receive mid-run than a cube of ice and I tried to express as much gratitude as possible. A few days later I saw him again, and again he stopped me asking how I was and suggested that I open my hand. He shook his canteen and an ice cube fell into my hand in addition to two pieces of Meiji milk chocolate. If there is something better to receive mid-run than just ice, it's ice and and chocolate, so I again did my best to express my thanks. Then he pointed to the chocolates and said something about American soldiers eating chocolate for energy. That's all the justification I need! Now every morning I go to the park, I see him walking and we briefly chat as he delivers what he's termed "morning service", two pieces of chocolate and a cube of ice.

The reason that we and at least a hundred others go to this park each morning around 6am is because at 6:30am there is "radio taiso", a 10-minute aerobic stretching program that plays on the radio and on NHK (the national tv station) each morning. This program has a long history and everyone in Japan seems to know it and recognize the song when it comes on. Schoolchildren used to be required to do it in school each morning, and now many companies have their employees do it at work. It is said to stretch something like 160 muscles in just a few minutes if done properly. I'm not sure if I buy that, but it's a great way to cool down from a run and I've made many elderly friends in the process! Japan is known for having a long life expectancy and while it's not solely because of radio taiso, I think it goes to show how Japanese people care about their health and how Japan does what it can to encourage healthy living. I don't think any similar free daily program exists in the states, and even if it did, I'd be surprised if Americans responded to it with the same enthusiasm and dedication as the Japanese.

These photos don't really show just how many people there are but I counted roughly 120 people and 9 pups this morning!

Another way in which Japanese media cares for it's people is through education. My host mom showed me that every day in the newspaper there is a socially and politically relevant passage that Japanese adults can cut out and rewrite. The passage is well-written and it uses some difficult vocabulary, so reading and rewriting it is a way to exercise the mind, especially since handwriting is very important in Japan with the three different alphabets. There is a version for children, as well, and my host brother proudly showed off his workbook full of newspaper clippings and his kanji. Additionally, there are radio programs every Monday to Friday morning that are devoted to teaching foreign languages to Japanese speakers. There's English for one hour and French, German, Italian, and Spanish each for 15 minutes, if I recall. Though 15 minutes isn't so long, 75 minutes a week is a solid chunk of time and 5 hours a week is a huge chunk so I think it's doing wonders for the avid listeners. These programs also come with workbooks where students can fill out exercises and read the dialogues as they listen. Again, I struggled to come up with an American equivalent. Obviously we have language books and tapes to purchase, but nothing free, regular, and regimented like in Japan.

This was the passage on July 26th

Additionally, people take lost and found seriously. My friend lost his camera as we were wandering around Asakusa, a crowded area full of shops and tourists. I doubted whether he'd see it again, but he knew to go to the police box (mini station) and check with them. Sure enough, some kind Japanese woman had found it, walked it over to the police box (about a 7-minute walk from where it was found), and submitted a form about where she found it and how to contact her if he didn't pick it up in a certain number of months. On this form you can check a box if you'd like to be contacted by the individual who lost the item, and she opted not to do so, but my friend wished she had so that he could thank her. This is not to say that no one in Japan steals, in fact my host mom just told me there have been of late a few reports of Japanese teenage pickpockets, but I think it's remarkable that someone took the time to do all of this, and even more remarkable that my friend wasn't surprised. He's lived in Japan for 10 years and he said he would have been more surprised if a Japanese person didn't turn it in.

A couple of short examples of this caring mentality: On most main sidewalks and in all if the subway stations, there are these bumps on the ground to help guide individuals who are blind, and many crosswalks have sound monitors to indicate when we should cross.

The post office has a discounted rate for greeting cards, and the only reason I can figure they do this is to encourage people to send letters and packages to their friends in and out of Japan. Even the electronic machines (at train stations or banks, for instance) are friendly. Usually they are voiced by chipper-sounding women, and the English translation on the screen at the bank was "please wait, I am inquiring now" which struck me as a kindly-phrased and personal request for a machine. Lastly check out this English sign in the subway that proves how much they want to please foreigners. Though the subway system is quite complicated, the docents at the information desks have helped me on countless occasions, as advertised:

What a mission statement! "We will attend everyone from around the world", and it's written in earnest. Not quite sure why they chose Santa but it makes the poster cute as Japanese are wont to do

This is an incomplete catalog of some of the many acts of kindess I've been privy to in the past six weeks. I've tried not to make such a bold generalization that everything in Japan is nice and happy, surely that's not the case. However, Japan does seems to encourage a sort of caring nature that Japanese people adopt, and there's a lot to like about a country that takes care of itself.

FUJISAN

It's just past 8am on this overcast Sunday morning in Tokyo. At this moment exactly one week ago, I had been awake for nearly 7 hours during which I had summited Mount Fuji, watched the sunrise, climbed back down to the cabin where we spend the night, had breakfast with other hikers, and quickly began our descent when we heard the beginning mumbles of a thunderstorm. Needless to say, climbing Mt Fuji was an incredible adventure and while I've had a great weekend so far, I would happily have spent it having a second go at Fujisan. San is one word for mountain in Japanese so that's how people refer to it here. San is also what you add after an adult's surname, like "Mr." or "Mrs." The mountain has such a strong presense in Japan and seems to inhabit a special place in the hearts of the Japanese, so it strikes me as poetic and endearing that people are kind of calling it Mr./Mrs. Fuji. Now I'll attempt to recap that memorable weekend.

We woke around 6am on Saturday morning to take a taxi and then two trains to the station closest to Fujisan. Arriving there around 9:30am, we met up with the hiking guides and the other 10 members of our group. This particular hiking package was marketed for families so of the 15 hikers, there were 7 children between the ages of 8 and 12. Kids always add energy and excitement to the mix, and these kids were especially spirited. Near the station there was a huge playground with a mini-zipline, two awesome slides, and a bunch of monkey bars. The moment we caught sight of these inanimate objects that bring universal joy, the children and I ran over and began sliding and climbing and jumping and I knew I was in the right group.

So kawaii!!

After a short drive to the base of the mountain, we hopped on a bus full of hikers and their backpacks and headed up to the fifth station. It is possible to climb from the bottom, but if I'm not mistaken three of the four possible trails start at the fifth station, including the most popular trail called Gotemba. We opted for a less popular/crowded trail called Fujinomiya and we began to climb just before noon.

Here we go!

Onigiri (triangle shaped rice ball) snack break

About every 30 or 40 minutes we would take a five-minute break and rehydrate, refuel, and adjust to the altitude. At first I wondered if it was necessary to stop so frequently, but no one in our group felt altitude sickness until we were about 3,500 meters high, and I think it was because we rested along the way. Around 5:30pm we arrived at the eighth station where we enjoyed a hot meal of curry rice, watched the sunset, and went to sleep at 7:30pm. It was quite cold at the station, especially after sundown, but fortunately the cabins on Mt Fuji have some heating and our sleeping quarters was basically a room full of pillows and blankets with no designated beds so our body heat certainly helped.

What a glorious sunset

Around 1:30am we were gently woken up by the sweet hiking guides and reminded that we had all wanted to reach the top before sunrise and to do so we had to leave by 2am. Somehow no one in the group had trouble waking up or needed much convincing and we hit the trail before 2am. The last two and a half hours were the most challenging for me, and I think for the group as a whole. During a couple of moments of doubt, I turned to my snack pack in which my host mom had surprised me with chocolate covered almonds (just the kind of thing my real mom would do!). Fortunately the altitude hadn't seriously affected anyone until this final stretch, but that started to change in the last hour and a couple of the kids started to feel a bit sick. On top of this, it was literally freezing cold; there were massive piles of snow beside us and we had to hike over ice using clampons. However, as soon as we reached the top we forgot our woes for we had made it! In Japanese, yay is yata so many "Yata"s were heard and lots of high fiving.

My host brother and I are holding mini flags that his mom gave us before the trek.

The campsite by morning

Since it was so cold, we didn't stay too long at the top. We went to the absolute highest peak and then hiked back down to the cabins to rest, have breakfast, and change into our raingear because some ominous clouds and thunder suggested a storm may roll through. I had thought we'd take the same route going back down the mountain, but instead our guides led us down a different path, the popular Gotemba "osunabashiri" trail which means "sand running". A fairly straightforward name, this trail is steep but made soft by brown sand/dirt so we ran! Or at least the kids and I did. 

This was the most fun part of the whole hike, in my opinion, so if you have the opportunity to hike Mount Fuji please make your way over to this trail on the way down. The hints of storm made it all the more fun because when huge gusts passed through we stopped and leaned into the wind and it supported us, much like at the Pali lookout on Oahu. It's an incredible feeling to be overcome by the wind and reminded of nature's might.

Finally, we ended our hike with a jaunt through a forest. One of the guides who spoke little English turned to me as we reached the trees and excitedly exclaimed, "grand finale!" It's funny what words and phrases seep into the catalog of universal commonplace terms. After all, that phrase is French but somehow he knew that we'd both know it.

Back on the bus, feeling oh so gratified and exhausted, we ended up at an onsen, a hot spring turned public bath, where we all thoroughly showered and enjoyed a clear view of Fujisan from the large window beside the bath. Altogether I would say it was slightly less difficult than I had anticipated, but I think that's because I set my expectations very high, which helped to make the hike attainable throughout. There's a saying around Japan that a wise man hikes Fujisan once and a fool hikes it twice. Call me a fool, but I would gladly hike this mountain again when I return to Japan. I hope this outline provides a basic understanding of what it entails to climb Fujisan, and I hope it encourages you to do so if you get the chance!

Here's a video from the summit! I'm on a bhangra (Punjabi folk) dance team at Princeton and we're making a video of members dancing all around the world, so this will be my contribution:

Coolest neighbors ever

About 10 days ago I changed host families which marked the halfway point of my time teaching English in Tokyo. I have another week and a half in Tokyo, then I depart for a summer camp, and following that I'll be traveling for a week. I'll be back to Tokyo for 4 days at the very end, but mostly to say final goodbyes to all the kind and generous friends I've made here.

Before changing host families, the neighborhood of my first homestay threw me a going away barbeque.

During this afternoon of grilled vegetables, fish, and meat and other Japanese foods, one couple found out that I would be in Nagano prefecture (2-3 hours northwest of Tokyo) for a week as a counselor at an international summer camp in late July. They weren't especially chatty people, but this excited them and without saying anything, they ran inside their house and brought out a copy of "Dwell magazine". There was an article about this epic piece of property in Nagano and my neighbor flipped through the pages and then pointed to a picture of him and his wife. As it turns out, these neighbors go to Nagano almost every weekend to semi-camp on their multi-acre land. I say "semi" because it's surely unlike any camping you've ever seen before. The couple said that if I came back to Japan I could join them for a weekend and that is a promise I have every intention of keeping. Check it out and be sure to flip through the slideshow: http://www.dwell.com/house-tours/article/platform-living

Most of the neighbors knew that the couple frequently went to Nagano, but they had no idea what their camping entailed. It's such an amazing thing when you think you kind of understand someone, and then you learn that the person has this whole other passion that you never could have imagined. It's such an amazing thing to be reminded of how remarkable people can be.

Typhoon Neoguri

This week Japan a major typhoon, Neoguri meaning "racoon dog", plumelled parts of southern Japan, especially the islands of Okinawa. At least seven deaths have been linked to the typhoon, and it left many injured. For the past few days there has been round-the-clock news coverage with devestating photos and videos. Fortunately, Tokyo remained unscathed and as of this afternoon it more or less left the country. Yesterday my boss said that employees might not be able to come into work today because it would be dangerous to commute in the midst of a full fledged hurricane, but on my walk to work there was no trace that it had even rained overnight:

I hadn't realized that typhoons are prevalent in Japan, but my students said serious typhoons happen two or three times a year, and minor typhoons/tropical storms occur regularly in the summer and early autumn. In June, Japan endures its rainy season, which to me hasn't been so bad. It has only rained heavily a handful of times, and otherwise the rain is fairly light and often fleeting - not unlike Hawaii in December. Due to some sort of atmospheric shift with El Niño, the rainy season is longer than usual this year and some reports say it will continue to rain on and off for a few more days.

Luckily, this weekend looks to be sunny sans rain. This is particularly lucky because this weekend I will be climbing Mt. Fuji! When my first host dad and brother found out that I enjoy hiking in Hawaii, they suggested that I join them in this two-day endeavor. Because my host mom isn't going, I'm borrowing her gear and funnily enough I wear the same size shoe as my host dad who has two pairs so the logistics worked out very well. We are going in a group with a professional guide, and we will stay in a cabin overnight so that we can wake up to watch the sunrise on Sunday! As it turns out, there's a full moon this weekend, so when we wake up around 2am on Sunday to complete the climb to the top, we will have some natural glow (in addition to our headlamps) to light our path. Needless to say I'm incredibly excited for this challenge and I'll be sure to post photos next week!

All set!

Hope you have a weekend full of wonder and adventure.

Japanese Colors

One of my favorite parts of learning a new language is the chance to consider how other people think about the world differently than English speakers based on their language. As I learn Japanese, there have been a number of moments when this really rang true, but the strongest so far happened last night when my host brother introduced me to colors.

My Japanese textbook has a list of twelve colors, and some of them like orenji and pinku clearly derive from English words. Due to this, I thought Japanese had a limited number of colors in their vocabulary, but au contraire! My Japanese textbook could not list them all so it utterly simplified them instead since there are dozens of names for the hues that we fit into about a dozen categories in English. My host brother reported there are more than 700 colors in Japanese!! This may have been a slight exagerration, but there are definitely many many multitudes of the comparably few we regularly use in English.

This made me think about how Japanese people literally see the world. Surely if we knew 700 (or even 100!) names for colors we would see more distinctions between objects. I tried to explain this to my host mom and brother by using the example of being in the park near their house: if I could describe all of the different hues in the trees, bushes, grass, etc, then I figure I would see each as more separate from one another than I do currently by grouping them all under the single heading of green.

My host mom was interested in this hypothesis and she took out a book called "Beautiful Birds". Turning through the pages she pointed to various plumes and named their colors. My host brother disagreed with some of her choices and would interject different words, which began to reveal one of the difficulties of having so many colors as there are bound to be different interpretations. I was completely amazed by all of the words they knew for colors and how some birds that I though saw as yellow were actually at least five different colors in their eyes.

Oh, the wonders of language!

For a list of some Japanese colors, look here: http://www.hi-ho.ne.jp/douton/htmlcolor.html

Happy Fourth!

The Fourth of July has come and gone in Japan since it is on the cusp of the international dateline. Though this Fourth was firework-free, there are four firework festivals in the next 6 weeks just in Tokyo, so they will not be missed. This is my third time spending this holiday in a foreign country and it's understandably underwhelming. However, I had the pleasure of going to the world's tallest tower to celebrate so it could be worse!

My host mom and I went to "SKYTREE" which stands at 634 meters high.

An uber-fast elevator that goes 16 km/sec (10ish miles!) zooms to up to a lookout 350 meters high, and for a few more bucks you can go another hundred meters. (I think this second level is a bit redundant - at 350 meters all the buildings already resemble legos, but it was fun to take a second super speedy elevator.) This building opened in 2011 and it's had massive crowds ever since. On weekends, people will wait up to 7 hours to enter (in addition to the $20 entrance fee)!

Fortunately, we did not face these long lines on a weekday morning, and from the moment we stepped off the elevator we were in awe of this truly remarkable view. Besides making me realize how incredibly massive Tokyo is, it allowed me to straighten out this metropolitan web of a city and map where I've been and would like to go.

I spy Skytree's shadow!

What a collosal city!

Hope you're having a fantastic Fourth of July!