Japanese Odyssey Part 2

Hello everyone – I hope you had a wonderful Labor Day weekend and are recharging your batteries to get ready for fall. The weather has definitely turned to fall here in Korea – cooler nights and mornings, a little earlier than usual – I’m not sure if I’m ready to cool down that much yet, but it’s definitely much more pleasant to be outside now. I spent this past weekend in Jangheung visiting Sara and met her friend Alyssa – it’s a good thing we all got along well because they will be my travel buddies next week as we jet off to the Philippines for vacation on Saturday. We got some cheap last minute tickets, a nice hotel deal, and timed it out so that we’ll spend about four days on Boracay Island in the Philippines – we’re planning not to do anything that doesn’t involve laying on the beach, reading on the beach, sleeping on the beach, listening to music on the beach, eating delicious fruit on the beach, drinking on the beach, and…swimming. That’s it. I’ll let you know how it goes.

But for now, I have to finish telling you about Japan. I left off as I was just about to reach Takayama after my many mishaps in Yokohama – I was so thrilled to be on the last mode of transportation to my destination. I’ll recap for you: missed a train, got on the wrong train, then fell asleep and almost missed my stop. I’d say I deserved a break. But, lo and behold, what happened on my last train of the day? Delays. We were stuck at almost every stop for a good twenty minutes each, arriving at least an hour behind schedule. Go figure. Definitely not my best train day. But hey, I made it! Takayama was a cute little mountain town up in the Japanese Alps – so small that I was easily able to walk to my hostel from the train station (after getting a little lost, of course – that’s just a given.) I had paid the most money for the hostel in Takayama ($30 a night,) but I must say, it was well worth it. After a nice hot shower I happily pulled my personal bunk bed curtains shut, ready to explore Takayama in the morning.

Because I was slightly blown off course and ended up visiting Yokohama a day later than I planned, I really just had one full day in Takayama before heading out to Kyoto/Nara the next day. Therefore, I had to fit as much in as I could. I started off the day with a yummy coffee and toast breakfast at a nearby café, then decided to explore by bike, thanks to my hotel’s cheap rental bikes. Again, Takayama is pretty small, so I was able to cover most of the adorable little town in an hour or so – ended up finding a little hiking trail that brought me hiking up to the top of one of the hills behind the village, the former location of Takayama Castle. Beautiful views.

After lunch, I headed to the station to catch a 15 minute bus to the next stop on my list. Takayama’s highlight and main tourist draw is the nearby Hida Folk Village, which is basically an open air museum of different architectural styles of the traditional Japanese mountain houses. They moved houses from their original locations across the region, the most impressive being the three story thatched roof Sato house (pictured behind me, to the right.) The museum was really well done, with lots of information, some hands on activities along the route for kids, and the opportunity to walk around inside the houses and see what it would have been like to live there. There were also a lot of random artifacts, like a woodcutter’s hut, an old icebox, and an old game made from rocks that were placed along the walk to give a better depiction of what life was like for the villagers. I spent a good two hours walking around, learning a ton, and enjoying the fresh mountain air – all accompanied by beautiful valley views. Much seemed unchanged up in the Alps – I could easily imagine people still living very similar to their traditional ways. Toward the end of the trail, as I was walking by a small shrine I stopped to read about how the villagers had an old tradition of dressing up their horses and leading them up to the mountain shrine to be blessed every August 9th. I checked my watch. It was August 9th. Might there be a ceremony or festival of some sort that day? I could only hope.

Well, as it turned out, I was in luck. When I got back to the hostel, before I could even ask, I heard the girl at reception telling someone who was checking in that there were fireworks that night. Win. I was planning to meet the British girls that I had met on the train for dinner anyways – now we had an event to head off to afterwards. The fireworks turned out to be way cooler than regular fireworks – they were actually part of the annual handheld bamboo fireworks festival. There were about six guys who rotated, for a good hour and a half, standing out on the river platforms and shooting fireworks out of bamboo holders – they had this whole routine with yelling and posing and counting – it was incredible to watch. I don’t know how they didn’t blow their faces off or at the very least burn themselves. In between the setups they shot off regular fireworks too while the whole town crowded around the riverbanks to watch the fun.

The next day I had to head out bright and early on the first train to Kyoto from Takayama. Again, because I had the JR Pass I wanted to take advantage of the rail on every day that I could, so even though I was staying in Kyoto for five nights, I was spending the first two days on day trips, followed by three days of hanging out in Kyoto. My first day trip was to Nara, just about a half hour from Kyoto, to spend the day exploring the medieval remnants of Japan’s first imperial capital city. Established in 710, Nara is a beautifully preserved historical mother lode of early Japanese Buddhist art, architecture, and temples.

When I arrived at the station, I stored my backpack and hopped on a bus to Nara Park, the main area with all of the temples and attractions. I had heard about wild deer being one of the main features of Nara Park, but I didn’t really realize just how many there would be – or how wild they really were. These deer were everywhere, and they certainly weren’t shy – they came right up to the tourists, mostly looking for food, usually allowing themselves to be pet. If they didn’t like someone, they let them know in a hurry by nipping at them, or sniffing around them for food. I learned this the hard way – was afraid one of them was going to rip my skirt. I quickly made friends by buying some of the deer cookies and feeding them, however. Then they let me pose with them. This one on the right was my friend, but the one on the left was most definitely not: the piece of paper in his mouth is my museum pamphlet that I had been reading on a bench when this guy very rudely came up behind me and took it out of my mouth. I tried to get it back from him…but I was scared of his antlers. So I took a picture instead; then threw it away when he dropped it. How rude.

One of my favorite parts of Nara was the fantastic Buddhist art museum, which had dozens of statues and sculptures, some even from China and Korea, which is how Buddhism arrived in Japan in the 5th and 6th centuries. It was also a nice break from the heat. My other favorite part was the Giant Buddha, or Daibutsu, housed in the Todai-ji Temple, the largest wooden building in the world, even though it is only one third of its original size, due to past fires. The current structure dates back to the 1700s, but original construction began in the 8th century. It was incredibly impressive, as well as the immaculate grounds of Nara Park. It was a great day outside, albeit super hot, and I enjoyed wandering around (in the shade) and people watching. I began to notice tiny little white lanterns set up along the park’s walkways, and when inquiring at the museum about them I learned that there was to be a lantern festival that night, in preparation for the O-bon festival, the festival when all of the dead spirits supposedly return to their ancestral homes. The lights help them find their way home. I was in luck yet again – I just had to stick around until 7. I found refuge inside the shopping arcade and had fun poking around – when I finally stepped outside in the dusky light I discovered that Nara Park had been transformed into a sort of fairy land, with hundreds of tealights and lanterns lining the paths. I wondered how they managed to stay intact without the deer bothering them. I had a lovely walk around in the warm summer air, taking pictures of the heart and flower designs on the lawn. As I headed back to the train station I discovered that the lights weren’t just in Nara Park – they were scattered throughout the town as well. Everyone was out to see or be seen, many of the women wearing beautiful summer kimono-like outfits. (I learned that the summer outfits aren’t called kimono, but they look very similar.) I returned to my Kyoto hostel late that evening, reflecting again on how lucky I had gotten with two summer festival nights in a row.

The final day of my rail pass was spent hiking it out to Hiroshima, about a two hour journey from Kyoto. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the significance of Hiroshima, but I remembered reading Sakado and the Thousand Paper Cranes, about a young girl afflicted with leukemia from the radiation, who folded one thousand paper cranes with the hope it would help her to live. Unfortunately, she passed away the following year, but her story has forever remained a piece of my heart, and I’ve always wanted to go see the memorial site in Hiroshima ever since.

I arrived at the Hiroshima train station late morning and decided to save Peace Park for the afternoon – instead I hopped on another short local train to Miyajima – a small island right outside of the city – that I had a free ferry ticket for due to my JR Pass. All I knew about Miyajima was that it had a famous ‘floating’ torii gate on the water, along with a famous shrine. That’s it. I’d like to think of it as paralleling Odysseus and his island hopping in the Med – he didn’t know where he was going half the time either. I’ve never been more unprepared for a destination in my life, but the Brits had been there a few days before and they said it was worth a visit, so I hopped on the 15 minute ferry and found myself in a cute little port crawling with tourists. I was able to see the torii gate from the ferry, but realized that it wasn’t exactly floating at the moment, due to my arrival at low tide. Oops. No matter – that meant I could walk out in the surf and touch the gate. I saw the temple, the pagoda, and the dozens of tourist shops that all began to look the same. Oddly enough, there were tons of wild deer hanging out there as well - two days of deer in a row. At least none of them ate my pamphlet this time. It was a beautiful little island, famed for its contrast between the bright red vermillion shrine, the intense green of the trees, and the brilliant blue water.

Back in Hiroshima, I decided to walk my way over to Peace Park and the museum by way of the riverside and the downtown. I was also on a mission: to try okinomiyaki, a famous Japanese dish consisting of a thin pancake on the bottom, with a bunch of grilled vegetables, meat, seafood, and a friend egg thrown over it, topped off with special okinomiyaki sauce. It was so famous in Hiroshima that there was even an ‘Okinomiyaki Street’ downtown. When I spotted that on the map I made that my first destination, and set off along the riverside to make my way downtown. Though I had seen pictures of Hiroshima before and after the bombing, I had never realized that the city consisted of two rivers diverging into one down the center of the city (see below, photo courtesy of Google Images.) Actually, this distinctive meeting of the two rivers is what the US military was aiming for when dropping the bomb, as it was an obvious target. As I walked along the river, there was something about the city that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, something about the air and the views and the river and the trees contrasting with the buildings. Then it hit me: Hiroshima was absolutely beautiful. All my life I’d had images of a flat, gray city bombed to pieces – there had never been any reason for me to think otherwise. But I was wrong – Hiroshima deserves a ton of credit for rebuilding their city into a beautiful place of hope and peace. They had overcome the worst of the worst atrocities a city can experience in such a wonderful way. Immediately my perspective changed, and I opened myself up more to enjoying Hiroshima, instead of the somber experience I had planned for.

And enjoy myself I did. The okinomiyaki was fantastic – I enjoyed watching them make it on the huge burner right in front of me. Yes, I ate the whole thing. After lunch I walked over to the Peace Park vicinity, which included the museum, the memorial cenotaph, and the A-Bomb Dome, among other memorial statues and gardens. As I was waiting for the light to change, I noticed a Japanese woman across the street from me crying in a tissue – she was leaving Peace Park. Oh boy, I thought, here we go. This wasn’t going to be an easy visit, was it. Wait – can anyone tell I’m American? I started with the museum, which was very well done – what I liked most about it is that instead of laying blame and hate on America, the museum instead focused on the facts, the results, and most importantly, the hope for peace and for the demolition of all nuclear warfare. Some of the pictures were so gruesome I couldn’t look at them, but the artifacts were so interesting – the watch that stopped when the bomb went off, the shadow that was imprinted on the stone stairs, and the wall stained with black rain. I saw a handful of Sakado’s real paper cranes, and learned about some of the horrible radiation effects for generations to come. Peace Park was equally as well done, structured tastefully and strategically, just a few km away from the hypocenter of the bomb. I could give you dozens and dozens of more facts, but I’ll leave that to you to look up on your own. Overall, the personal effect Hiroshima had on me was of course somber, but also hopeful, as I was so glad I was able to witness firsthand how the city had recovered from the terrible tragedy of war and turn it into a living, breathing monument of optimism. I returned to Kyoto that night exhausted, emotionally drained, but enlightened.

So, after having gotten my money’s worth probably about three times over, I was done with the JR Pass – time to take things down a notch in Kyoto. Of course, Kyoto has a lot of things to see, but at least I didn’t have to see them all at hyperspeed. The next three days were spent walking all around the city – I saw so many temples and shrines I lost track (I also became a temple snob – if I hadn’t heard of it before and I had to pay more than 3 dollars I skipped it,) browsing the shops in their arcade covered downtown streets (along with some coffee shop people watching – always a must in any new city,) exploring an awesome used bookstore with the same books for half the price they had been in Tokyo, and venturing (slash getting lost) out to the outskirts of the city, where residential area meets rice fields. Kyoto is surrounded by hills on three sides, with the train tracks cutting across the fourth side (south) so I was able to cover a lot of ground. The downtown was a lot more fun than I imagined – the temptation to spend lots and lots of money had never been stronger. Before, I had been held back on buying souvenirs for people because of my backpack, but now I was on one of my last stops – I resisted the calls of the tourist shops (one could almost say they were like siren calls) but instead gave in to some of the little cutesy stores for some early Christmas presents. To me, Kyoto was a wonderful mix of cosmopolitan city with traditional Japan, with an emphasis on the beauty of nature. It also possessed a regal air due to its privileged status as the former imperial capital for over a century (exact dates 794 to 1868.) There are 18 World Heritage Sites in Kyoto, most of them Buddhist temples, (I calculated that it would have cost about $100 total to see each Site) and I learned that the United States purposely avoided bombing Kyoto because of its rich cultural heritage and treasures.

They say that the beauty of Kyoto is hidden – found among the quiet neighborhoods, the traditional teahouses, and the peaceful lifestyle of its residents. I’d agree with that based mostly on my exploration of the eastern hills of Kyoto – my favorite afternoon and evening of Kyoto. The beautiful eastern slopes are home to the Philosopher’s Path, Mauryama Park, a handful of temples and shrines, and of course, Gion, the former geisha district. After visiting Nijo Castle in the morning, then purposely parking myself at a coffee shop for a few hours during the hottest part of the day (wanted to do the National Museum, but the main exhibit was closed) I set off to explore the east side of the river from north to south, beginning with the Philosopher’s Path.

I thought the Philosopher’s Path, or Walk of Philosophy, was named for all of the past Japanese philosophers who thought it was a nice place to stroll and muse (philosophize, if you will,) but I learned that it was actually named after just one philosopher, Nishida Kitaro, of Kyoto University, who used it for daily mediation (though I hope he avoided strolling in August – it was still wicked hot at 4 PM.) Regardless, I had a pleasant walk along the canal, staying in the shade, imagining how beautiful it must be in the spring with the cherry blossom trees in bloom. After taking a pit stop to read my book on one of the benches, I continued on south to Maurayama Park. I had just finished a book about an American studying Zen Buddhism in Kyoto a couple of decades before, right in the Maurayama area, so it was fun to see it in person. It was absolutely beautiful, with the sun beginning to come down above the western hills, casting a warm orange glow over the entire park.

In that setting, I hurried to make sure I could still see Gion before it got dark. However, I felt a little guilty for not exploring the hills a little more, as it seemed like there were some great views along the way. Just as this thought passed through my mind, I passed a set of stairs leading up to something I couldn’t see. I decided I would make it up the steps to see what was up there, just so that I didn’t waste an opportunity. I wasn’t disappointed. Just as I was nearing the top of the stairs I was awarded with the view of a huge Buddha-like head sticking out of the trees – and as I got closer I realized it was some sort of temple structure. I paid the three dollar entrance fee and discovered that it was actually a recent Buddha (actually a bodhisattva – a being who has gained enlightenment but has stayed on Earth to help other Buddhists attain enlightenment – but they basically look the same to me) statue, surrounded by a temple dedicated to all the fallen and unknown soldiers in the Second World War. It was so beautiful – I snapped this picture, then about two seconds later the sun went behind some clouds – the magical sunset moment was over. I had been guided by an unseen force to climb those stairs just at the right time. I sat there for a while, looking at the pseudo-Buddha, thinking about how often things had worked out for me in Japan – it really seemed as though I had someone watching over me the whole time. Between navigating myself around Tokyo, figuring out the trains, eventually finding everywhere I needed to be, and timing things out perfectly like the festivals or the sunset, I felt that I wasn’t alone. I always feel closer to God when I’m traveling, probably because He’s the only one who will listen to me (Oh God, please let this be the right train. Please let there be toilet paper. Please let there be a Starbucks right around the corner.) Like Athena helped guide Odysseus through the Mediterranean, God was definitely on my side as I traveled on my journey through Japan. It was a nice feeling.

With the sun going down, there was no time to waste in getting to Gion. I consulted my map, zipped down a few more streets, and arrived along a long covered arcade of shops, titled ‘Welcome to Gion.’ So much for the quiet, beautiful little neighborhoods I had read about and seen in ‘Memoirs of a Geisha.’ I told myself that of course, Japan is so modern now, the traditional areas must be hidden up in the neighborhoods in the hills, which were too dark to search for now. Oh well. I was ready to head back, but all of a sudden I remembered marking a street from my Lonely Planet notes: Shinbashi Bridge, supposed to be ‘one of the most beautiful streets in Kyoto.’ Well, what did I have to lose? I knew I was close, so I found it on the map, oriented myself, and headed that direction. After about ten minutes I realized I went the completely wrong way – go figure. Turned around, went to where I started, and then found the correct path. I cut over a street early, and when I emerged from the alleyway, my eyes were greeted with a wonderful sight: a beautiful wooden teahouse, a bridge over a small canal, trees and twinkling lights everywhere, and people quietly strolling along the paths. It was exactly as I pictured, but even better. What a fun surprise! After I wandered around and took pictures to my heart’s delight, I was rewarded with an extra bonus: along the riverside there were little blue Christmas lights strung up in the trees, with people walking, talking, and enjoying the beautiful night together. I plopped myself down on the riverbank and just sat quietly for a while, looking at the beautiful trees and trying to remember every moment of the day. It's so crucially important to take those transient moments to sit quietly and appreciate, or you'll lose them.

My exit strategy from Kyoto was via an overnight bus to Fukuoka, from where I would ferry back to Busan, Korea on the three hour hydrofoil ferry. However, I had to check out of my hostel in the morning and the bus didn’t leave from Kyoto Station until the evening. I felt that nothing in Kyoto could top the evening before, plus I was exhausted from walking. What was my solution? I spent the day at Kyoto Station – well worth a day of exploring. I did some final browsing for souvenir shops, poked around at all the fancy shops, climbed the stairs up to the ninth floor observatory, (okay, I’m lying – I used the escalator for the last three flights because the stairs disappeared) read my book, and of course, I did some high quality people watching from a second floor coffee shop (see picture.)

The next day I arrived at Hakata Fukuoka Station around 7 AM (fun fact: Japanese bus seats are not big enough for six foot tall people, especially for extended periods of time) and discovered the info desk that would help me find a hostel wasn’t open until 10. Not much was open at the station, so I wandered around the area a bit, and after one of those ‘please God let there be a Starbucks around here’ moments I wasn’t let down: I parked there with some coffee until the office opened up. As always, I was treated with amazing service by the tourist people – I was given a map and directions to a hostel ten minutes from the station before I could say ‘Konichiwa and Arrigato.’ The hostel was close, clean, and conveniently located near the ferry port bus stop, where I would head bright and early the next morning. After spending all day exploring Fukuoka (not too much to see there, but tons and tons of shopping) and pursuing a new purse, since I had beat mine up so much in the past two weeks (success finally came around 7 PM,) when evening came, I was done. Done walking, done touring, done buying things, done studying maps, just done. I was happy, hot and sweaty, my feet were killing me, and I was satisfied. I had done exactly what I came to Japan to do: see the places I’ve wanted to see since I was a little girl, and try to imagine what life might have been like for Mom when she was there. Along the way I had encountered wonderful people, including a voice from the past (well, my mom’s past,) some friendly and hospitable Japanese locals, and some new friends. Japan has always been so close to my heart, and after ten years of dreaming I had finally experienced it.

However, as I boarded the hydrofoil ferry the next morning in Fukuoka, my mom’s birthplace, I was filled with a new sense of excitement. I had seen my mom’s life abroad, learned about the culture she lived in, tried some of the foods she had fallen in love with, seen where she had worked, and even met her boss. But that was her life. I had my own life abroad, which I had created for myself, which I was happier than ever in, and which I was ready to return to. I didn’t have a Penelope waiting for me across the sea like Odysseus did, but I had my wonderful friends, coworkers, and students to return to. I was going back to Korea. I was going home.

A Japanese Odyssey, part 1.

Hi everyone! How are you doing? Hopefully you will enjoy your last taste of summer this weekend - I'm afraid I've been back to school for almost two weeks now, so my summer is pretty much done for - but it was great while it lasted.

If you recall, my most recent adventure was a two week trip to Japan. I had a wonderful time walking around, sightseeing, exploring, and even threw a little bit of biking and hiking in there. I zipped all across Honshu, the main island, on the bullet train with my highly recommended Japan Rail Pass (it really is worth it - I promise) for seven days, then had a few days to relax in Kyoto, before taking the bus to Fukuoka, on the island of Kyushu, in order to ferry back to Korea via Busan.

But before I tell you all about my travels, I have to say that it was much more than just a trip - I thought the term odyssey might be more appropriate. Most of you know that my mom Kim was an elementary teacher at an international school in Yokohama, Japan, when she was just a little older than I am now. She taught in Japan for two years, then took off and traveled as much as she could with her little yellow backpack (still in the garage). As she has with many aspects of my life, my mom has served as my biggest inspiration in terms of following my travel dreams. After growing up hearing her stories and adventures about her world travels, I decided at the age of 11 (the day she presented about Japan in my 7th grade geography class) that I would follow in her footsteps as best I could.

Ten years later, here I am in Korea, living my dream and loving my life, and owing so much to my mom for always believing in and encouraging me so that I could get this far. Of course, I couldn't have done it without the support of my dad and stepdad either, nor without my amazing family and friends. Either way, now that I live within a few hundred miles of Japan, the country that started it all, (quite literally - my mom was born in Japan as well, due to her father being stationed in Kyushu with the U.S. Air Force) the opportunity to finally go there and see it for myself was too important to pass up. After my China plans became too risky due to visa issues, Japan seemed like the perfect solution. Going to Japan would be almost like going home for me - after ten years of dreaming. Sound familiar? Probably not if you haven't read Homer. That's okay if you haven't, moving on. 

So I planned out my odyssey - not only would I start in Tokyo, my mom's old stomping grounds, (I seemed to have recalled a few stories involving her staying out all night dancing to catch the morning train home when they missed the last train of the night) but also I would pay a visit to Yokohama, the suburb where she lived and taught nearly 30 years ago. After traveling west from Tokyo to hit up the old historical capitals of Japan (that was more due to my own personal interests than anything) I would end in Fukuoka, the city where Mom was born, before heading back to Korea. I planned it all very quickly, didn't get to research as much as I would have liked, due to my friends' arrival and summer camp teaching, and before I knew it I was spending another cozy night in Seoul in Steve and Mary's living room, ready to jet off to Tokyo the next day. 

Since I timed out my flights accordingly, on Friday morning Lauren and I headed out to the international airport together - our flights were just an hour or so apart, so we hung out and wandered around the airport for a while before having to say goodbye. As I was headed to my gate I delightfully stumbled upon not only a Caribou Coffee but also a Subway in the airport - a Minnesota afternoon in South Korea. Yum.

I arrived at Narita airport late afternoon, and initiated my seven day Japan Rail (JR) pass right away to take care of transportation into Tokyo.They were scary efficient at the airport - within twenty minutes my pass was activated, I had a packet of travel brochures and maps in my hand, and I was directed to and seated on my first Japanese train, which left several minutes later. I was off! My first train window glimpse of Japan was, appropriately, lush green rice paddies with workers out in the fields. Yup, I was definitely still in Asia. My view soon changed into surprisingly western style houses as I reached the suburbs of Tokyo, and eventually the little houses turned into huge apartment complexes and big skyscrapers.

Once at Tokyo Station, I went straight to the JR help desk to see about getting to my hostel - once again I was handed a map, given directions, and sent off with a smile towards the correct train - I liked Japan already. My first impression of Tokyo was 'huge,' followed by 'white shirts.' I hit Tokyo Station right about the time when everyone was finishing work for the day - apparently most businesses require a white button down shirt with black dress pants, because about 75 percent of the men in the station were dressed exactly alike. I remembered my mom telling me she remembered seeing this as well.

I found my hostel, tucked in a cosy corner near a quiet neighborhood in Ueno, a district known for its park and museums. As I walked the quiet street in the dark I noticed that A: the streets and sidewalks were super clean, B: things closed pretty early on the streets compared to Korea, and C: I couldn't read a thing. (C should probably be amended, because I did soon notice that there were romanized captions under most signs, so I could at least read it even if I didn't understand it.) The picture on the right is in my hostel neighborhood, and the picture on the left is the first station I ventured out to in the evening - Ueno. My hostel was cute - standard shared bunk beds with our own shower - and one of my roommates turned out to be someone who had been living in Japan for the past eleven years. I always have such good luck meeting people who know their way around. He gave me lots of good tips and advice, which I was grateful for.

The next two days in Tokyo are a blur involving lots of heat, lots of walking, lots of train stations (my JR Pass allowed me to ride some of the train lines for free, including the circular Yamanote Line, which I rode in its entirety because I once read about a character doing it in a book and watned to try it.) On Saturday I saw the Imperial Palace Gardens, Tokyo's massive downtown center, the Meiji-Jingu shrine, dedicated to the Meiji Emperor who was basically responsible for pulling Japan into the modern era, and then I went to all the major stations - Shinjuku, Shibuya, Harajuku, etc - just to wander around and explore their shopping districts, fashion/people watching, and blinding neon-ness. When it got too hot or I felt like I was going to pass out, I usually recharged myself with an iced coffee, while looking at the map and planning what to do next. My favorite day was probably Sunday, when I stayed in my hostel area (the northeast) and did some walking around - ended up in Asakusa (pronounced ah-socks-ah) and rented a bike by the river. I had a grand old time biking my way down the touristy streets, through the neighborhoods, then headed back to Ueno and saw the beautiful massive lotus pond en route to Tokyo National. The museum was fantastic and a wonderful mid-day respite from the heat. My biking elation had a temporary pause when I left the museum, however, because as I was biking back to return the bike, (only 2.50 for the day!) it started raining. I took refuge in a 7-11 and had some fun wandering and taking pictures (the picture below is of the immaculately wrapped and packaged grab on the go cheap meals - the 7/11 quickly became my favorite restaurant in Japan,) hanging out with some other people who had gotten stuck in the rain, but then the rain just kept coming down. I wasn't too far from the river, and decided to risk it.

So tell me, you've ridden a bike before, right? Of course you have, how silly of me. Okay, have you ever ridden a bike in the rain? Sure, you've probably gotten caught in the rain once or twice - no big deal. All right, how about biking one handed in the rain? I know, this is getting trickier. Here's my last question: have you ever ridden a bike (a basket bike, mind you) one handed in the rain while holding an umbrella in the other hand down the sidewalks of Tokyo? No? Let me spare you some pain and just say that I don't recommend it. I actually still have a scar from trying to avoid hitting a very old man on the sidewalk while navigating said bike. Moving on.

That evening I happily people watched in Shibuya, my favorite station, (partly due to the fact that it blasted K-Pop music from one of the big screens when I first arrived,) from the massive second floor Starbucks. I was constantly comparing everything and everyone in Japan to Korea -it was fun to make observations. I decided I like Korean guys' style better than Japanese guys, but that I liked Japanese girls' style better than Korean girls, since I'm sure you were all wondering. I also hit up a used bookstore in Shibuya and was able to exchange a couple of books for a history book and a narrative written by an expat in Japan, so those kept me company at Starbucks - I like to think I was simultaneously educating myself about and observing Japanese culture.

I had an early morning the next day due to an unsuccessful attempt to hit up the early morning fish market. No, it wasn't unsuccessful due to my late start - turns out that the main market area (especially the tuna auction - what a great way to start off the day at 4:30 AM) is closed off to tourists because too many of them were getting in the way. Great. Wished Lonely Planet had told me that the night before.

Anyways, getting up early just meant that I had more time to spend in Yokohama - I had a 2:00 train leaving from Yokohama, which gave me plenty of time to get there, explore, visit mom's school and meet her old principal, and then take off. And that's just what I did. The train to Yokohama took an hour or so, and then I arranged my departure train. After a recharge of coffee, I set off to explore my mom's former home. Yokohama actually holds quite a bit of historical significance, as it was the location of the signing of the 1854 Kanagawa Treaty, the 'friendship treaty' between Japan and America that opened up Japan to western trade The Port of Yokohama opened up in 1859, which essentially catapulted Japan into modernity due to foreign, and notably Western, influence. There was quite a contrast between the new port area and conference center, which I bet wasn't there when my mom was there, and the older part of the city, which I found to be very cute and charming. I wandered through Chinatown (pictured,) explored around the train station, and eventually ended up on Motomachi Street, a ritzy street lined with cafes and shops. After a delicious cafe lunch I packed up and headed out to my destination, Yokohama International School.

As I walked up the hill just beyond Motomachi, I thought about how I was finally about to see the place I had wanted to see since I was an ambitious seventh grader. Here I was! Walking up the same hill my mom had probably walked on at some point, wandering around the pretty hills and houses that I was now navigating myself around just like she must have done...this was great! But wait - did she ever get as lost as I was? (Actually, the answer to that is probably yes.) Mom would have told me if it was difficult to find, right? Well she must have forgotten to tell me if it was...because I was flat out lost.

 My internet directions from the website lacked a map, and all of the little neighborhood area maps that I kept checking didn't show YIS. I was utterly confused, there was no one around to ask for directions, let alone an English speaker, and worst of all, it was about 500 degrees outside. So much for making a nice impression - I felt like I had just been swimming in a sauna. I wandered up and down the hills a bit longer, starting to worry that I would never find it and therefore either miss my train or miss my chance to visit. Oh no! I was close to tears (thanks to a lovely combination of my emotions, my lack of sleep, and the heat) and began to head back to Motomachi to find a computer...when I saw Yokohama International School on a plaque on a building...the one I had passed right as I hit the top of the hill. I had been so excited that I overshot the school, and realized I could have saved myself a lot of sweating and cursing if I had paid closer attention.

All's well that ends well, right? I made it to the school. I found the main building, tried to look presentable, walked inside, and asked for Mr. Stanworth, my mom's old principal who was expecting me. As soon as I walked into his office, all my frustrations vanished as he stood up and greeted me with a big smile. He remembered Mom fondly (he says hi and sends his love to all the family, by the way) and told me how energetic and enthusiastic he remembered she always was. Since it was the first day back for the staff after the summer break, he was incredibly busy, but still nice enough to take a few minutes to walk me around. He said much has changed since Mom had been there, and that they had acquired a few new buildings, as well as redesigned the existing ones. I took some pictures to show her (above left is the building she used to teach in, and above right is in the new teacher's office, to the right is Mr. Stanworth and I,) and tried to imagine Mom running around after her little elementary kids - probably not too different from how I run after some of my rascally middle schoolers. I was glad to see and hear about how successful the school had been and had grown - it was fun to think of how Mom is part of that legacy.

After my delightful visit it was time to run back to the train station to catch the next leg of my journey. Well, the next leg of my journey ended up not being as simple as I imagined it to be. First, I showed up at the wrong Yokohama station (how was I supposed to know the train didn't leave from the one I arrived in? They have the same name!) Once I figured this out my train had already left from the other Yokohama station, so I had to wait in line at the JR office and change my ticket times. Once that was done, I hopped on the JR train out of the correct Yokohama station. Success! But no.

 As I found my seat and looked into the eyes of a very confused man who said the compartment didn't have reserved seats, he helped me realize that I had actually gotten on the wrong train...but I was, in fact, going to the correct destination. Luckily luckily, even though the train I was on would be arriving at Nagoya later than my original train, I would still have time to transfer and catch the correct train up to Takayama. Disaster avoided. I took my seat, relieved I would still make it to Takayama as planned. Good for me, right? Oh no, we're not done yet. As the train neared Nagoya, I finished up writing in my journal and settled back in my comfy seats...the next thing I knew I was being woken up by the attendant who knew I had to get off at Nagoya. If it hadn't been for that nice man I would have ended up halfway across the country by nightfall. I jumped up, ran off the train, thanking him in a strange mix of Korean and Japanese (my brain hadn't made the language transition yet,) and cautiously stepped onto the next train, praying to the gods that it was the right one. I was in luck - it was. I even ended up across from two British girls my age who were traveling to Takayama, and nice to chat to. Finally on the last stretch of my journey, I settled in with some caffiene - no way was I falling asleep again - and my dinner: a sushi bento box, the equivalent of our PB&J brown paper bag lunch. (Or a Power Rangers lunchbox with a sandwich, apple, string cheese, and a cookie, if you were that kind of kid.) Check out the picture: yes, that's a tentacle and yes, it was delicious.

Since I don't want my odyssey story to be as long as Homer's, (don't lie - I know you didn't read it word for word back in English class anyways) so I'm going to finish here for you, en route to Takayama, then we can delve into some Japanese history on the following post - you can't wait can you? Until next time, folks.