Across the Sea in Korea

When I think of Korea, all I can think of are spicy food and gruff looking people, and my, how I want to go back. We packed so many adventures there into one week, it almost defies the imagination. Well, actually, I seem to recall spending the last 2 days in my comfy hotel room, watching very interesting and enthusiastically frenetic Korean television (with free, nonstop porn on channel 100...check it out). So that means that the adventures must have been squeezed into only 5 days. Not bad, eh?



We happened to run into one of those impromptu cultural dance/drumming/harp/plate balancing/head twirling shindigs that one finds from time to time in the cities of the world, and Hong couldn't resist dressing up in the free royal attire provided for aspiring monarchettes like ourselves. Now, I am a civilized person, and so I adamantly refused to don this ridiculous garb, but said I'd take her picture. After seeing some guy and his wife put the stuff on, though, I knew there was no choice. We were photographed by, oh I don't know, about 25 or 50 people. I certainly hope we brightened up their vacation photos. "Hey, look at these weirdo white people [editor's note: only I am white]. Wtf, mate!"

All said, Korea was a fascinating place. Reading up on the country before we left, I went through a sort of mental confirmation everytime I would read some little cultural tidbit in the Lonely (Lying) Planet guidebook: "Yep, got that. Same as Japan." In everything from drinking to education to technology to fashion to just ridiiiiculous uses of the English language, the countries seemed like clones. I was really expecting to find a sort of shinier, newer cousin of Japan over there across the sea. I was a bit wrong.

If I could describe Korea most efficiently, it would be to say it's as if Vietnam and Japan had a child. Stepping off the bus into the heart of Seoul, the streets had the street markets and unkempt, wild nature of Asia, but present also were the restrained politeness and orderliness of which Japan is so proud.



The stories of Korea and Japan are a bit similar, in that both countries have 5 letters in their names and that most people can't tell their citizens apart. Their histories have actually been intertwined for millenia, much like Canada and the USA. A lot of the ancestors of today's Japanese migrated from the Korean peninsula (don't tell them!), and it was also a source of a lot of cultural exchange and influence during the formative years of Japan's civilization. Both countries fall firmly in what experts (for our purposes, me) like to call the "East Asian Cultural Sphere," and as such share many common cultural links with each other and with their friend China, such as the use of Chinese characters (although in daily use it has been replaced in Korea by a phonetic one...you know, all those circles?), a strong Confucian and Buddhist influence in society, black hair, and a tendency to eat at McDonalds. All of these things together ground them in a common culture, from where they can build bigger, better bridges to the future. Mostly electronics, though.

The important thing to remember about Korea, therefore, is that it's OLD! I feel like China and Japan really get the lion's share of attention in the whole Asian tourism thing (exclusing SE Asia, or 'The Marijuana Belt' as I call it), but man, Korea has got the stuff! We saw sublime palaces from the Joseon dynasty, stunning, lush gardens, ancient ruins that would knock your socks off. Coming from Japan, my only thought was, how did I not know about this? These photos are from assorted palaces in Seoul. There are 3 main ones, and they are all just fantastic. The locations of the palaces were chosen according to the advice of geomancers, who made sure that the buildings were in tune with the forces of the world and facing the right direction and that they were in an auspicious location. The guys did a nice job. They were just lovely, backed up against the hills in Seoul.

The restored palace of Gyeongbok-gung (my employers destroyed the first one):

The 'Secret Garden' at Changdeok-gung Palace. It was wonderful.

A pool at the Jongmyo Shrine, where the souls of former kings and queens are cared for:
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Wow, I hate to say it, but I'm too tired to go on. I'll continue this soon.

Little Bits of Japan

Here are some little pieces of what I see all the time. It seems so utterly familiar now that it doesn't even feel like a foreign country.

Mt. Ena, my local mountain:


The view from the train:


Karaoke. Love it. Never thought I would.


Stuff like this on the side of video game machines:


The vending machines are world unto themselves here.


Some more nice vending bottles:


Anyone for green tea?

The Sweet Life

Greetings, Dear Readers

Now that summer is here, things couldn't get much sweeter. The grass is green, the sky is blue (and occasionally ominously gray and wet), and yours truly has shaken off the frigid malaise of winter to glory and bask in the sunny wonder that is being at large in the world at 23.

Things have been on the up around Nakatsugawa. I used to complain about the town's lack of, err, urban charms, but after a firm attitude adjustment on my part in which I decided that I was never going to be happy to come home after the weekends unless I had something to come home to, I am happy to call it home. Somewhere a few months back, I endeavored to take a bigger bite of the local community and see what it had to offer. The results have been good.

My calendar went from empty to full pretty fast, and I'm liking it. I now teach private English classes twice a week at the local Mitsubishi factory. We talk about things like efficiency and ventilation fans and also where you can find cheap ramen. I must say, teaching engineers is a little more stimulating than teaching 16-year olds, but I can't complain.

Another positive development has been my joining of a taiko group. For those of you who don't know, taiko is a traditional type of Japanese drum that they used to use for many things, including scaring the opposing armies in warfare and also for Mitsubishi commercials. Sometime around 50 years ago, some enterprising fellow saw all these ginormously oversized drums sitting around everywhere and thought, surely there must be a way to play these in huge synchronized groups. He was right.

My particular taiko group is affiliated with a local junior high school, and as such I outrank even its most senior member by about 7 years. No matter. We have practices every weekend for about 4 hours each day, and I must say, it's HARD! Remembering the rhythms and transitions is a particular difficulty for me. My mind is not so pliable and trap-like as it was when I was an ambitious high school student, and I swear I forget half of what I learn every day. Although, I shouldn't be so hard on myself, as the instructions are coming in Japanese, a language which has well-documented frustrations for me.

At least the kids are pretty nice. On the first day, they all stared at me in that way that says, "Wtf, why is this guy in our taiko group? He's huge and foreign." No matter that: I am totally unphased by this stage in the relationship! That gradually morphed into a sort of shy, befuddled look whenever I speak to them. Now, I can almost get actual smiles from some. I think I'm always good for a laugh whenever they want to feel smart, as pretty much everything I do has some sort of ridiculous air of incompetence when I'm at taiko practice, even when it doesn't involve drumming. Just in picking drums, I found out I'd been stealing other people's taikos because I hadn't been properly reading the labels. They promptly ran off to the storage shed to get me my own, tightened and tuned it for me (no small task), and presented me with a label to claim it as my own. I wrote my name in Japanese letters, but they insisted I write it in English. I think they thought it was cooler that way.

When we're practicing as a group and I f-up some part of the sequence (which is often, though I must note that the other beginners make many mistakes as well, as do some of the seniors of the group), the seniors dispatch one another in shifts to go sit down in front of my drum and beat it with me to help set my pace. I must thank them for that. Even the gruff-looking 8th-grader who just calls me "foreigner" (I call her "Japanese") sat down with me for the better part of an hour to make sure I understood the beats. Very nice.

To top off the goodness all around, my much-beloved mountain bike showed up from home a few days ago, and its arrival has been like the centerpiece that gelled all the positive developments going on around me. I've been riding it all around the rice fields, shrines, highways, and back alleys of town since Friday, and it's been something like pure bliss coasting through the air on its silky smoothness. I never thought I could be so happy to be on a bike.

Goodnight from the fields,

Jay T.

Senor Jay's Mexican Culinary Academy, Japan Branch

I decided on a whim to introduce the English Club, greatest of all Nakatsu High School clubs, to the joys of cooking Mexican. Food, not people, that is. I had initially advertised my cooking idea as "American Cooking," but then I realized that one of the best things about American cooking is that it is such a hodge-podge of delicious traditions. Thank Gosh for the Revolutionary War, though, or we'd all be eating mushy peas with a fork. Being a Mexican food aficionado from San Diego, I knew my path was clear. I named a date and asked them if they thought they might enjoy that. They gave their affirmation, I think definitely expecting crispy tacos, probably from Taco Bell. But I had loftier goals in mind. While tacos are undeniably savory, and OK for the Mexican food neophyte, I thought for this introduction to Mexican cuisine, something more elaborate might be in order. I opted for a lovely combination of arroz con pollo (rice with chicken, for the Spanishly-challenged), hand-made tortillas (no translation necessary-I hope!), and for dessert, arroz con leche (sweet rice pudding). By a happy coincidence, the new nurse at the school lived in Ecuador for 2 years, so she speaks great Spanish. Through her, I was able to communicate to the Home Economics teacher that I would need to trash her kitchen on Monday. Surprisingly, she obliged. I think she was darn curious to see what I was going to make.

So I showed up at school with 2 heaping bags full of ingredients. Onions, tomatoes, pounds and pounds of chicken, cumin, cinnamon, a full 10kg sack of rice, milk, sweetened condensed milk, vanilla, flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, chicken buillion, and lard - yes, lard. I printed out the recipes, which I had carefully rewritten to be more easy to understand for the English learner. The kids showed up and I tried to get the nurse to pronounce the dishes' names in Spanish (she has a very pretty accent-Japanese accented Spanish), but they were very confused, as hearing the name of a mysterious dish in an even more mysterious language does very little to elucidate just what the hell it is. The basic gist was, where are the tacos?

I could see the doubt in their eyes as I barked orders to the different teams. They just couldn't yet picture how all these incongruous elements were going to equal anything remotely edible. The poor guys frying the chicken were continually shot with hot oil bouncing out of the pan, and at least one thing caught on fire, producing just a little bit of screaming. It was a sight to see! Thank gosh the home-ec teacher didn't come in until later.

At the end of the arroz con pollo preparation, we tossed everything into the rice cooker, and I added the finishing touches, haphazardly (to the untrained eye...ok, to the trained eye, too) tossing in unmeasured amounts of the remaining spices. The kids were dubious, man. They said, "It looks bad," as I closed the lid of the rice cooker, secure in my knowledge that they would soon be proven wrong.

After that, it was time for the tortilla prep. I selected 2 very lucky girls to be my tortilla crew. They were a lucky bunch indeed. I pointed to the lard and asked them to scoop out a few spoonfuls. The poor kids, they had no idea what it was, but they figured it out fast. After very unhappily mixing it up with the flour, etc, they produced a nice dough for the tortillas. After I managed to burn the first one, they took over and succeeded in cranking out about 15 pretty nice-looking tortillas all by themselves. Very nice.

The last thing was dessert. Here is where I blew their minds. I raced to the fridge to grab milk and sweetened condensed milk. I put the milk in a bowl, then they watched in true horror as I proceeded to dump their beloved Japanese rice into the milk bowl. They just couldn't believe what I had just done. It made no sense to them. It got only worse as I asked them to dump in quite a bit of the sweetened condensed milk. I think that's when they decided Americans were crazy and knew nothing about the ways of the world. Or at least about cooking rice.

To my great joy, when we popped open the rice cookers to reveal the arroz con pollo, my friends were quite impressed and surprised by the delicious aroma that had developed. I, quite frankly, was relieved that it had turned out edible after all. I spooned out two good helpings to everybody on their tortillas, and we dug in. Everybody liked it. I was so relieved! It was a great moment to sit around together eating what we had just made. Sadly, the rice pudding was a total bust, but that just meant more for me! I learned a valuable lesson: Don't F with rice in Japan. They're serious.

In the end, their homeroom teacher said that they had a really good time. I am always a bit nervous with this club, because they are so talented and enthusiastic that I worry that I won't make the time with the club worthwhile. It made me glad to hear that they enjoyed it. What should we make next?

Vietnam photos are up!

Hey everybody, sorry for the long delay. I just finished posting photos of our trip to Vietnam in March. Please enjoy!

http://community.webshots.com/user/viewfromjapan

Dispatch from South Korea

Greetings from sunny Seoul, home of 10 million or so Koreans. We have been spending the last day or so eating kimchi and walking around exploring Seoul. Yesterday we took a leisurely 2 hour bus ride from the airport, which promptly zoomed about a mile and a half past our stop. Made our way back through a pretty intense market full of all kinds of stuff you don't want to buy. Our hostel is cheap and almost tolerable, but is very close to a subway stop so we are happy. Last night we went out and had our first Korean meal, which was very cute because the old woman running the restaurant had to mix up our rice bowls for us, since we didn't know to do it. It was adorable. After that, we decided to have the most authentic Korean experience possible, and headed to Starbucks as the sun was setting. After that, we decided to delve a little deeper into the culture, and so went to go see The Good Shepard starring Matt Damon. Then it was pretty much bedtime.

This morning, we woke up at the crack of 7. Actually, it was just me, since the hostel people kindly came into Hong's room at 12:30 am and informed her they had assigned her to the wrong room and could she move please. Why, sure, no problem! So she made it up by 7:45, groggily. We jumped on the subway to head to a station where we could locate the start of the "Shaman Hill Climb" or something like that. It was a hike up a big mountain in the middle of Seoul.

Coming out of the subway stop, we followed the directions in Lonely Planet and walked into an alley, eventually ending up in a construction site, and then a path up the hill. We faced numerous confusing turns, and after a while came upon a party of older men and women just sitting around resting and chilling out. After that, needless to say, we took a wrong turn and the next thing I knew there was a barbed wire fence, a siren blaring out, and a guy with a green helmet and gun staring at me. OK, I guess that's not the trail.

After narrowly escaping our harrowing brush with the Cold War, we stumbled across a party of friendly and also lost Koreans who happened to know English. They inquired with the aforementioned loafers, who pointed us to the proper trail. We had to scale part of the old city wall to get on the trail, but finally we joined the masses in their ascent of the mountain. From the trail, we could see central Seoul and some of the other parts of the city, and only one word comes to mind to describe it: BIG! This place is big looking in ways that other cities I've seen just aren't. It doesn't just go out, it goes up, in big-ass apartment buildings that make your standard U.S. apartment complex look like so many helpless blonde girls in the clutches of Godzilla (or King Kong).

Our newfound friends were climbing the mountain with other members of their church, many of whom were carrying flags and passing out cards at the top where you could write a letter to yourself, which the church would then mail to you in 1 year. Hong wanted to do it, but they sadly informed her it was domestic addresses only. She's recovering slowly.

After that, we scouted out one of the better dining deals I have ever found in my life. We walked down a quiet but not too-dirty looking alley looking for food, and finally decided on a place. We pointed to a delicious-looking photo at the wall, and the lady, who was running the place alone that day, groaned and rolled her eyes not quite, but nearly, to the back of her head. She gave no indication as to whether or not she actually would indeed cook it, but kept us in a worried suspense for a few minutes until she asked us if we wanted it for 2 people. Finally, many heaping plates of side dishes arrived, then rice, then 2 huge black pots filled with delicious looking soup, spices, veggies, and gigantic pieces of pork on the bone. It was good, and it was a feast. And when the time came to pay, it tasted even better when the total came to $10 for the both of us. I mean this isn't in a third world country where $1.50 can buy you a majority stake in the state telecommunications network, this was Korea, one of the biggest economies in the world. Great success! Go us.

We followed this with a visit to a truly huge, quite beautiful palace used by the Joseon kings back in the old days of Korea. Hong decided that telling me she was going to wander off to some other part of this Milwaukee-sized complex was completely unnecessary, so I enjoyed much of the palace in search mode, looking in vane for my lost mate while Korean people stared at me walking around with an inquisitive, squinting look. But the palace was just breathtaking. It was destroyed many times by the Koreans' good friends, the Japanese, and so all the buildings are reconstructions dating from 1990 onwards. Let me say that they did a phenomenal job. Never have I seen historical reconstructions of such beauty and carefulness. I think it is easily one of the most impressive sights I've seen in Asia.

After that, it was time for another traditional Korean meal, this one at a local Korean specialty shop that the locals call Pizza Hut. We ordered the large pizza ("3-4 Persons") and finished it with a bit of difficulty and 2 very large Pepsis. I think it's safe to say we earned the respect and fear of the whole restaurant.

And that's all I've got to say about that. Goodnight to everyone in America!

Sakura Spectacular!

Now that the cherry blossom season is over, it's time to publish the top 20 sakura photos taken this season. It really was as beautiful as I thought it was going to be. Please enjoy.

1. Mighty cherry trees next to the river in Nakatsugawa.
2. Cherry blossoms come in all shades of pink and white.
3. Cherry trees drape over the river in a quiet neighborhood of Nakatsugawa.

4. Sakura tree with house, Nakatsugawa.
5. The bridge to the park at Naka, Kakamigahara. This bridge almost seemed enchanted it was so beautiful.
6. My first view of what cherry blossoms could really be, in Naka.
7. A Meitetsu train makes its way through the cherry trees
8. Cherry blossoms next to the river.
9. The famed Cherry Blossom festival in Naka, Kakamigahara. Hong's city is rightly famous for its cherry blossom festival.
10. People enjoying "Hanami," or flower-viewing parties.

11. Elation on the shoulders
12. A path under the trees
13. Dreamy path under the petals.























14. Well-dressed woman under the trees.
15. Sakura blossoms at the end of the season, next to the Nakatsugawa River, Nakatsugawa
16. The fog over the Kiso River on my early morning drive back home last Sunday.
17. A mighty sakura tree in the mist.
18. A blossom-lined path shines in the fresh spring air.

19. Lunch under the Cherry Trees.
20. Happiness is eating with your friends under the trees.

Goodbye, Kocho and Kyoto-sensei

After the school year ended last month, the Principal and Vice-Principal of the school both retired. All of the teachers gathered out front, the student band played the school song, each gave a speech, and we all clapped. After that, the principal got into his car and drove away, and the vice-principal, who lives next door to school, just sort of awkwardly walked around the corner, to applause. It was quite funny, actually.

Although I've only been here for a short time, I can tell just from talking to other teachers that these men were enormously respected and will be very missed. Most Japanese administrators are very tough and kind of autocratic, but from what I can tell these men were utterly without pretense and very understanding of the teachers' situation. When I talk to friends at other schools, I realize how lucky I have been to work at a place that is so harmonious, and I think these two guys have something to do with that. They will be missed.

The Yuppie Life

I went to Nagoya a few weeks ago to have my camera repaired, and after it was done I couldn't help patronizing the Starbucks in the building. This was only my 2nd Starbucks in Japan ever. Sitting outside on the street in Nagoya, sipping my Starbucks, listening to my iPod, wearing my Team Italy Adidas warm-up jacket, I realized what it felt like to look like a hip young urban professional. Of course, there is no suppressing the prevailing dorkiness that is my life, but I think I was quite convincing.

10 Hours in Kyoto

Last weekend, I had to go to work on Sunday. I would complain, but I've been on vacation for the last 3 weeks, so I have NO basis for complaint here. So, I had only one glorious day of weekend to use as I chose. Luckily, Ms. Tanya, of Treehouse fame, was vacationing in Kyoto at that very moment! So I took the slowest, cheapest train I could find, and after only 4 1/2 short (and relaxing) hours of riding, I was there!

We had a great time. The cherry blossoms had just come out, and it was just pretty darned lovely. I was supposed to be the Japan expert, since I've been here for no less than EIGHT months, but Tanya knew where everything was and generally led me around Kyoto. I realized I had forfeited my title after I forwent the map in favor of some good old fashioned 'visual recon' and led us in precisely (really) the wrong direction for a while until I decided to, like, check where we were going. Those mountains I saw in the distance weren't the ones I thought they were, it would seem. So much for visual recon. I guess Science majors really are smarter. Damn!

As I was saying, the beginnings of the cherry blossom bloom were lovely, and so was the weather, and I guess a lot of people predicted this very thing happening, because I got very intimately acquainted with the butts and elbows of about half of Japan on the train ride. My arm was literally just sitting on some kid's neck for like 20 minutes because I had nowhere else to put it. When the doors opened at Kyoto, it took--no kidding-- 30 seconds before ANYONE could get out the door. We all pushed together and created so much pressure that we literally wouldn't budge. It was amazing. Everyone was relatively calm about it, though. Anywhere else and someone's teeth would be getting knocked out.

So most of these pictures are from Kenninji, a beautiful temple in Kyoto. I'd never been there before, but both Tanya and the Japanese teacher at my school recommended it. They weren't wrong. I really love the layout and the feel of the building, because it almost feels like a sleek sort of Japanese home, instead of a temple. Pretty much every room was wide open to the outside, with really beautiful woodwork and gardens. The whole environment was very...harmonious.






One of the back alleys of Kyoto. We strolled around for a while, aimlessly. It was great. By accident, we even found Kiyomizudera temple, one of the most famous in Japan.























A little shrine at the Kiyomizudera temple.


















Yeah, I don't know either.

Just a note

Just a note: I wanted to say how much I enjoy writing this blog and how much I appreciate those who read and enjoy it. I was never a big fan of blogs myself; I always thought they were kind of self-centered and unneccessary. It was only somewhat half-heartedly that I opened this Blogger account before I left for Japan. As soon as I got to Japan, though, I saw what an amazing communication device it can be to exchange ideas, stories, and feelings. I'm surprised at how much I enjoy finding stories in my everyday life here, and then finding a good way to tell them. They are almost always trifles, it seems, but these are the little bits of humor and good will that get me through those days when I'm wondering just why I'm here. Moreover, they make this experience something worthwhile. I hope that you can get some entertainment from these little stories and also a sense for the kind heart of the people who live on this island. I don't pretend to fully understand them, nor do I think they're perfect, but I do find them kind of remarkable in their way and I feel very lucky to be able to call this a home for a time.

In short, thanks for reading. I'll do my best to write something worth reading.

Back. Welcome!

As I sit here, it is almost 3 weeks to the day since I left my friendly little school and apartment in Japan and headed off on a round-the-world adventure that would take me from the soft landscapes of rural Japan to the staggering beauty of San Diego, and from the charming lanes of Atlanta to the rugged streets of Vietnam. In short, it has been a long, strange, and utterly wonderful trip.

First, let's talk mileage. 2.5 weeks on the road, 10 flights, 7 airports, at least 8 trips through the metal detector, and a lot of surprisingly good airline food. In total, I covered more than 20,000 miles in the sky, and put in plenty more on the ground in trains, cars, buses, motorbikes, and these little half-bike, half-rickshaw things called cyclos in Vietnam.

Why, you may ask, did I willingly opt to spend the better part of 45 hours careening through the air in expensive metal tubes? Well, there are 2 reasons. Firstly, I needed a home injection quite badly. Others may have the mental fortitude to live for years on end in another country without coming home, but I don't know how they do it. I get homesick! After signing the papers that committed me to another year here, I knew that I needed a trip home to refresh myself, see family and friends, and recharge my batteries. I felt it deep down that I should go. Second(ly), Hong and I have dreamed of visiting Vietnam for years (the place of her birth...there is a monument, I swear!), and we saw the distinct lack of classes in March as our golden opportunity to steal away. And so we did.

To conserve ultra-precious vacation time, I daringly scheduled these mighty journeys back to back, joined at the hip in Japan. I was to fly back from Atlanta, and early the next morning, we were to leave for Vietnam. I had just enough time to present Hong with my precious cargo, a treasured bag of Spicy Hot Cheetoes that she had requested from America. Think about how hard it was to get a bag of fragile little Cheetoes from San Diego through Atlanta and to Japan. My main objective was getting them to her mouth before they reached the dust stage of existence. No Cheetoe deserves that.

This trip encompassed so much that it got my mind into a frenzy just trying to make sense of it all when it was over. In only one day, I had left my little life here in Japan and re-entered my "regular" life in California. Suddenly I was home and cars were bigger, roads were bigger, I could make small talk with waitresses (nice, I like), and I could see my family. It was an incredible, shocking change. It wasn't until after more than 2 days that I finally felt at home, and after that I just sank into it like an old jacket. It was inexpressibly wonderful. Just knowing that it was so brief made me appreciate it all the more, and I savored every bit like a precious morsel.

Coming to Vietnam was one of the more shocking experiences I've had in my life. I had tried to prepare myself mentally for the poverty and general chaos that I knew I would find there, but I was totally unprepared when I stepped out of that airport in Ho Chi Minh City. The heat, the noise, the people, the clamoring for business, it was more than I've seen in a while. As Hong and I rode silently in our taxi to the hotel, my eyes were wide watching the broken concrete and dusty dirt piles that counted as sidewalks, and the seemingly uncontrolled mass of motorbikes that swarmed past us at all times, and the people who, it seemed, were everywhere. This was a teeming mass of life, and it was powerful and visceral and alluring. After 7 months in Japan and a lifetime in America, I knew I was about to see a different way of doing things. A way of doing things that involves peeing on the street. Get ready.

I think I'll leave it there for tonight while I let the juices stew. Goodnight, dear readers, except Nick.

Dispatch from Vietnam

Greetings Dear Readers,

This is Jay coming to you live from the streets of Saigon. We are finally here, and my, is it one crazy place. Half the city has no sidewalks, the traffic never stops, and drivers honk for pure sport. We just had a fabulous dinner of chicken soup and got fabulously ripped off for it. Luckily, it still only cost about $8 for the two of us, even with the ripoff. Should have been more like $2. Hahahaha, it's still a bargain basement blowout.

Our hotel is very very nice and is right in the heart of downtown. We are very lucky to have air conditioning, because it is in the 90s and very humid. I am predicting I will be continuously sticky until next Tuesday.

Our flights over were great. We flew China Airlines, the airline of Taiwan, and had a lovely time. They were the most multilingual flights I've ever been on. On the flight to Taiwan, announcements were in English, Japanese, Mandarin Chinese, and Taiwanese, and the stewerds and stewardesses would each address each customer in his or her language. They remembered. I think it was a little easy for me. Anyone can tell my Mandarin probably sucks. On the flight to Vietnam, they added Vietnamese also, for a grand total of 5 languages. Everytime they interrupted my movie to do an announcement, it was a very long affair.

That's about it for now. We are very tired and want to get some sleep for tomorrow. This city is a real shock to the senses so I want to be prepared. Goodnight till then!

Sukii-wa suki desu ka?

That means "Do you like skiing?" for those of you who don't happen to speak Japanese. Of course, I fall into that category as well, but for a few brief shining moments this weekend, I had many others fooled into believing I didn't.

It goes like this. A co-worker of mine, a young and very cool science teacher named Mishina-sensei, invited me to come on his annual ski trip. He said I could invite my girlfriend, so I did. She in turn invited reinforcements in the form of 2 of her friends. So bottom line, this poor guy got stuck with not 1 but 4 goofy foreigners on his nice little ski trip.

The ladies came out Friday night and I took them to Gandhis, which, as far as I can tell, is still the greatest Indian restaurant in the world, including those in India. Yes, they may be from Nepal, but true talents know no borders.

I cleaned up my flop-pad, because it's not every day a guy gets three reasonably attractive ladies staying at his place. It took me a few hours, but I finally got the place to a state where I wasn't embarassed to have a fellow human being inside it with me. The girls actually thought it was quite homey, which is in marked contrast to my brother's appraisal, which was something along the lines of "This place is depressing" and "I can see my breath when I sleep...that's not normal."

At the crack of 4, we awoke to the soothing sounds of cell phone alarms and got ourselves together just in time to be 5 minutes late to the 4:30 am departure time. Luckily, Mishina lives right below me so we didn't have far to go. Being Japanese people, they were completely ready to go and waiting only on us. "Uh, yeah, ohayo gozaimasu ("good morning"), sorry, sorry, ohayo gozaimasu...OK, Let's Go!"

We piled into Mishina's car and headed to the expressway, which is a bargain at only about $20 an hour. The ladies promptly fell asleep and I stoically remained awake to inspire Mishina to do the same. He was driving, so I felt this was not purely altruistic of me.

We chit-chatted for a while, and eventually he started quizzing me on my Japanese. He is my absolute favorite person to speak Japanese with, because his English is absolutely amazing, so he can explain things to me as he's talking. I always feel right at ease. With some other people, it's far more difficult, and those awkward pauses are AWKWARD pauses. But, no matter.

Our destination was Shiga-kogen in the famed Nagano prefecture. This resort is the biggest ski resort in Japan, and also the site of many of the 1998 Winter Olympic ski events. It was breathtaking in scope. After stopping for brekkie at about 6:30, we pulled into the resort at about 8:30. It was cold and snowy.

I look distinctly Nordic here.

Our hotel was pretty funny, because it was built right on top of volcanic hot springs, so it kind of smelled like someone had cracked open about 30,000 eggs in the lobby and every single room and just never cleaned them up. It took a bit of getting used to. The advantage of this nasty eggey smell was that it was only a short walk downstairs to a nice hot bath.


Hong's and my room. A view over the slopes:

The ladies were mostly trying snowboarding, which they had little to zero experience at, so Mishina pointed them to the bunniest of bunny slopes, and we men were off to the good stuff. With us was Taga-san, the extraordinarily nice man who works in the front office of our school. He is personally important to me as the man who loaned me his bicycle for 3 months when I first came to Japan, and didn't complain when I accidentally left it out in the rain about 10 times. He speaks slightly more English than I do Japanese, and he thought it was about the funniest thing he'd ever heard everytime I put more than 3 words together in a sentence, so we had a grand time communicating in our respective languages. Each wanting to learn the other's language, most of what he said was in English and most of what I said was in Japanese. It would have confused the hell out of anyone if they were paying attention. I'd be like, "Migi-gawa? (Turn Right) and he'd say "Yes, Right." It was great.

Taga and Mishina were both extremely talented skiiers, especially Mishina. I started the day off a bit rusty, but this was my fifth time skiing this season, and so my skills have improved a bit. The guys thought I was very impressive for just going down most runs straight instead of turning. I tried to explain that turning is very hard to me and I prefer to go straight and just ride out the bumps. They thought it was crazy. I taught them how to say "Big Balls" and so everytime we saw a slalom skiier flying down the mountain, Mishina would point and say "He has big balls." By the end of the day, I was feeling up to speed and pretty big balls myself and even trying out some moguls, which I could almost sort of halfway do. I had about one run where I felt like I'd gone down in a straight line. The other ones were crooked or full of crashes.

I think the best part was the camaraderie. We had a great time skiing and riding the lifts and talking. At first, I was a bit nervous to talk, but after a while I got more comfortable talking and saying stupid stuff in Japanese, so it got easier and easier as the day went on. Before this weekend, I was so nervous about communicating in another language. The whole weekend turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

After the day's skiing, we had a super-fancy high cuisine Japanese meal at the hotel. I enjoyed it for the most part, but of course there were a few items I definitely wished were not there. The four of us were at a table with 2 very nice and very quiet teachers from my school, so it made for polite but very restrained conversation. Darn it, though, everyone did valiently at trying to communicate. The one lady would try so hard to think of the English words she would get furrows in her brow. The pain of trying to be right.

After the fancy dinner, we men retired to our room to Drink, with a capital D. Mishina's father owns a liquor store, so he had brought a really good bottle of sake. We were sitting around drinking and watching the world championship of ski jumping. It was a little sedate. The two teachers joined us, and then the 3 Kuraaaazy ones came in, full of genki (energetic) energy. Hong loves card games with a strange intensity, and so resolved to teach the group how to play a card game. I personally love card games, but I'm far too lazy and simple-minded to actually learn any of them, so my contribution was sitting there sipping my beer and demanding that the girls speak more slowly.

While they were ironing out the rules of the games amongst themselves, they were naturally speaking quite fast. Our Japanese hosts couldn't follow whatsoever. I would look over at their horrified faces every few moments and say, "I can't understand either" in sympathy. To be honest, I was a little embarassed of the girls' energetic juggernaut into the social gathering, because it interrupted the rather quietish evening that had been going on prior to that point. But I think that they had a good spirit and that my colleagues enjoyed it in a bemused way. It was definitely something to talk about later, and 2 of them valiently dared to try playing cards with Hong and her friends, though they got the rules explained to them at slightly less than light speed. I was impressed with their will to participate.

After a comfy night's sleep, we skied another half-day, this one absolutely perfect. Perfect powder from the previous day, plus clear perfect blue skies. You couldn't ask for a better day of skiing. We headed home in the afternoon, satisfied.