I had my first visitors this September.  Visitors indeed, as they flew in from the States. Kat and Laura, two friends from University currently living in the Bay Area, were my charges for a week in the hinterlands of Hokkaido.  I was a little concerned that they might feel a little shortchanged as they weren’t going to make it down to “trademark” Japan down south, but they assured me that they wanted to run off the beaten path.  So that we did.

I suppose some of this may read as a shameless self-promotion to get friends and family to come out and visit, which it kind of is.  Kat and Laura surely recognized the value in having a good friend living in remote Japan.  When else are you going to have a tour guide built into a friend in one of the more accessible, yet less traveled, parts of the world?  I was excited for the opportunity to show off my new home and to, in a way, live a bit vicariously through my guests.  Everything was new and exciting again.  From the language, to the food, to the bright lights and very different customs, all regained their foreign tinge.  At the same time, I could switch into wizened resident mode and answer the questions posed my curious guests.  (What’s this?  What’s that?  Do we have to take off our shoes?  Why are the lights so bright?)

Having visitors was also a good excuse to do things that I hadn’t yet done.  We spent a night at an onsen hotel in Noboribetsu, more affectionately known as Hell Valley due to its proximity to bountiful sulfuric thermal vents.  I gave Laura and Kat a quick run-down on onsen etiquette and next thing I know, they’re pros.  A definite perk of the hotel was the buffet meals and the yukata, which I never wanted to take off.  We also explored Shiretoko, a World Natural Heritage sight and one of the most, if not the most, remote parts of Japan.  One of the major tourist attractions at this park is the 知床五湖(Shiretoko Five Lakes)—a series of five small lakes connected by nice trail system.  What makes this place pretty neat is that the feeling at each lake is a little different from the others.  On a nice day, the mountains reflect quite nicely off the lake surface and proves to be quite the heyday for photographers.  While driving through the park we saw TONS of deer.  Seeing them right on the road put the fear god in me as I worried they would jump willy nilly right into my window, gouging my jugular with a smartly placed antler…Luckily, we avoided any deer related incidents and made it out of the park unscathed.

One of the aspects of Hokkaido that I was most excited to share was the food.  The whole time I raved about Hokkaido’s dairy products, even though I am pretty limited to what I can eat and drink (thanks weird milk allergy).  Not quite convinced, Kat insisted on stopping to get ice cream at most every opportunity so they could adequately judge the dairy quality for themselves.  Aw shoot…a reason to get ice cream (as if we need one).  Kat and Laura were pretty excited about going to the ramen capital that is Sapporo.  We roamed ramen alley and even a little ramen theme world in a mall.  The highlight though was sharing sushi at my favorite sushi restaurant in Abashiri.  It was even a treat for myself as I hadn’t been to the restaurant in a little while.  Yum!  We had front row seats to watch the sushi prepped and made.  From okonomiyaki to kaitenzushi, Kat had a very astute observation when she declared that Japanese food is so interactive.  I never really realized it myself but its true!  Even with soba noodles, there’s a little order to how you eat your meal so you have to learn the 食べかた (way of eating) for everything.   It’s great!

I was able to give them the full spectrum of Hokkaido life from the bright (very very bright, according to Kat) lights of Susukino in Sapporo to the rice fields and inaka living in my little town of Tanno.  Even though we didn’t quite make it to any Zen gardens, we got to see many things that might not have been quintessential Japan, but were definitely quintessential Hokkaido.  One of the days when we were out east in my neck of the woods, we took off to explore Lake Akan National Park.  First we stopped by Lake Kussharo and fashioned ourselves lakeside hot footbaths in the sand.  (Lake Kussharo is a volcanic crater lake and has thermal vents scattered throughout its environs)  Then we took off to what I think is the best onsen in Hokkaido, the Lake Akan Tsuruga.  This onsen is in a gloriously beautiful hotel right on the lake.  The girls were treated to the rooftop onsen while I had the ground level lakeside onsen.  I’m sure there are numerous lakeside onsen in Japan, but this was the only one on a lake populated with spherical algae (Marimo!).  We soaked in the soothing waters, catching the beautiful sunset reflect off the lake and the flanking mountains.  Absolutely magical.

While it was sad to finally see Kat and Laura off in Sapporo, I couldn’t help but to feel like I gained a newfound affection for this second home of mine.  It was pretty clear cut when I arrived in Japan that two years will be enough for me, perhaps even more than enough.  But now, as I’ve discovered why exactly it is that I love this place, I think making that decision to stay or go will be all the more difficult.  Luckily for me, I’ve still got four months before I need to decide and that’s a whole lot of Japan-lovin’ time.

I had my last (I think) camping excursion of the season last weekend for the Northern Welcome Party.  It was held about two hours away just outside of Asahikawa in a town called Aibetsu.  Aibetsu is just inside the Daisetsu mountain range so the weather was a bit chilly.  You could tell fall was coming and summer had left as the foliage was slowly letting go of its deep green.  During the drive back, I even noticed snow dusting the tops of the taller mountains.  Yikes, termination dust already—reminds me of Alaska.  A couple of the folks at the camp went on a hike up 黒岳 (Kuro-Dake or Black Mountain) and even made physical contact with the snow.  I’m actually a bit excited for the snow this year as I want to amp up my snowboarding.  Last season, the number of times I went snowboarding was pretty dismal.  But I digress.

For the welcome party, this time around, I had zero responsibility.  It was fantastic to just relax and shoot the breeze with the other folks in attendance.  As the night proceeded, however, I did get assigned the responsibility of fire starter.  Blowtorch in hand, I was quite successful at igniting the main bbq pit for our dinner that night.  I was quite impressed with the spread we had for dinner—yakisoba, loads of veggies, and various yakiniku.  It was delicious!  To top off the meals, there was another bake sale auction.  It’s always good to skim bites from the winners for a great dessert sampling.  As most gatherings of ALTs from across the island tend to go, the evening was rife with great conversations and antics.  My favorite part was meeting ALTs and asking them how they like their first year and them responding with, “It’s actually my second year.  Thanks for noticing.”  In my defense, it’s a big island and there are a lot of us!  (For the record, I almost typed “defense” as “defence.”  You Commonwealth-English spelling folk are getting to me.)

We had lucked out with the weather earlier that day, but the clouds moved in and so did the rain.  Bummer!  Luckily we had a tarp under our tent, and the tents from my office had proven to be resilient in the rain in the past.  Unluckily we neglected to tuck the tarp under the tent so pools of water gathered at the edges of the tent, AND the tent base was different from those in the past and proved to be not-so-resilient.  It’s always fun waking up to a wet futon and sleeping bag.  I suggest you try it sometime.  Weather be damned, I had a blast re/connecting with other ALTs I only get to see once or twice a year.  And now that fall has arrived, I can begin planning a potential “polar bear” dip into the Okhotsk Sea with the other Alaskans up and down the coast.  Time to be burly Alaskan men.  Rawr.

It’s September already.  Yikes.  Summer came and went without so much as a thank you and now we’re prepping to take in the cooler weather of autumn, which means that we’re busting out the duvets.  But just before I succumb to the subtle mellow tones of fall, I was able to sneak in several final summer notes.

I spent a glorious weekend lazing about Asahikawa, Hokkaido’s second largest city.  It’s a wonder I hadn’t spent more time there as it’s a bit closer to me than Sapporo.  They’ve got a hoppin’ night life (I even had a Negra Modelo!) and this great avenue full of bars and restaurants and boutique clothing shops.  They even have an Aveda store!  The weather that weekend was quite perfect and half of the day was spent lounging in a park, staring at the sky, and chronicling the movements of the dragonflies.

That weekend I also went to Magical Camp.  (Yeah, I thought the same thing…)  Every year in the Teine Highlands just outside of Sapporo, Magical Camp puts on its all night art and music festival.  I had expected hippies and tons of kumbayah, but it was a very intriguing collection of psychedelic, street, hip hop eclectic madness.  There was even a brass band.  (I know, right.)  I quickly threw away those expectations and just went along with it.  My favorite part had to be the “snow lounge.”  Under the motto of “No More Hot,” a giant sleeping area was fashioned from trash bags filled with shredded paper and covered in white tarps.  Cozy snow banks those were!  They had some mellow music playing to help ease people into their comas but unfortunately, the desired effect was a tad interrupted by the ubiquitous heavy bass emerging from the dj’ed room.  In spite of the ridiculous bass trying to reset my heartbeat, Magical Camp was a blast.  I was able to catch a sunrise again (there’ve been a lot of those lately…).  Probably the most entertaining part was observing how everyone slept.  People were passed out everywhere and in every which way.  One guy even looked like he had fallen down a set of stairs with his head cocked back, eyes slightly open, and one leg contorted in a way I’ve only seen in emergency rooms.  Amazing.

And finally, as a last hurrah for summer, we have been throwing our annual regional welcome parties for all the newly arrived JETs.  Being in charge of the Doutou (Eastern region) I had the responsibility of putting on our welcome party.  We had it at a beautiful campsite at Point Kimuaneppu on Lake Saroma, a little over an hour northwest of me.   The week leading up to the party, the weather had been (surprise surprise) rainy, cloudy, and generally unpleasant.  I camped out at the site a day early with a several other hearty souls.  It was surprisingly warm with a good breeze going.  All around us, we kept seeing flashes of light as thunderstorms flanked us in a pincer fashion.  Amazingly enough, these storms kept their distance, and we were treated to a light show for several hours.  It was pretty spectacular.  The day of the party, the clouds cleared out and the wind died down.  Thus the bugs moved in.  Hundreds upon hundreds of mosquitoes descended upon our exposed skin.  Along with the mosquitoes came the eager partiers converging from all over the east and other parts of the island.  While I busied myself prepping our meal that night (noodle bar with roasted corn and baked potatoes) the other partiers got down to business with their own crazy olympics.  Jollity ensued as everyone ate until they were stuffed and libations flowed liberally.  We had a gorgeous, near full moon to keep us company that night, making sure we didn’t accidentally fall into the lake.  There was poi flinging, hula hoops, a neon pink track suit, and a couple big sticks.  All in all, it was quite the amazing night.  A magical good bye to our short-lived summer.

Because we all like lists…

1. HAJET Summer Meeting at Lake Toya in June.  Beautiful weather.  Gaijin sumo spectator-ing.  Victory in Capture the Flag.  A good old fashioned American bbq.
2. Rain.
3. Last hurrah with folks leaving the island in Sapporo.  Quality time.
4. More goodbyes and more rain.
5. Team Marimo goes to Marimo’s birthplace, Lake Akan.  (insert more rain here)  There were Marimo souvenir stores, green-dyed dogs, a monkey, and Marimo enka music.  There was also a fantastic rooftop onsen with some delicious complimentary steamed potatoes.  Doesn’t get much better than that.
6. Hokkaido English Challenge’s Summer English Camp.   Five days of camping with thirty volunteers and fifty students.  I’ve heard people talk up this camp before and was skeptical.  Now I’ll definitely be first in line to wax lyrical.  It rained the entire time, but the students and fellow volunteers were fantastically upbeat.  Even moth eggs in my blanket and jacket couldn’t keep me down.  In all seriousness, it was amazing to see these students, many of whom I’m sure are very quiet and shy in school, open up and enjoy every moment.  This is on my to-do list for next year.
7. 1 year anniversary of being in Japan.  Celebrated with more rain.
8. August—Tokyo Orientation for the newbies.  Team Hokkaido (Callie, Wayne, and me), along with some fifty other veteran JETs welcomed 600+ new JETs to Japan.  It was great to relive Tokyo Orientation, this time without being jet lagged out of my mind.  It was an exhausting experience as I had some ridiculous shifts at our 24 hour hospitality center, but I certainly have a newfound appreciation for all-nighters and sunrises.  We’re lucky in Hokkaido because we’ve got an amazingly eclectic group coming in this year.   I’d have to say though, that hands down, the best part was my fellow orientation assistants.  It’s amazing the kinds of bonds you can establish at 3am in hotel lobby handstand competitions.  I lost myself in the fun.  (in a good way of course)
9. After Orientation, Callie and I had two days in Tokyo to take in the sights.  We went to the Ghibli Museum, which was a cuteness explosion.  We also checked out this theme restaurant that we were told was all “cops and robbers.”  Well after nearly peeing our pants going through a miniature haunted house just to try and make reservations, we decided it was more horror/dungeon/mad scientist.  They do lead you to your table/cell in hand cuffs.  Tokyo was fun again the second time around.  The more time I spend there, the more I like it.
10. A triumphant return to Hokkaido to see our friends get hitched.  Weddings are fun.
11. Hokkaido Orientation in Sapporo. This year I presented five, count em, FIVE things (actually it was more like six, kind of).  It was hella work to prepare everything but I did enjoy the opportunity to be really busy.  I forgot how well I could procrastinate.  I’ll reiterate the fact that Hokkaido has a good bunch and it certainly reflected.  Out in the East, we’re getting 16 new folks, all of them guys.  I had my regional meeting with them and was shocked that there wasn’t a single double x represented.  We’re the rugged men of the East.
12. I got a piano.  I’ve never taken a lesson but can play a little.  I hope to be able to play a little more.
13. More rain.

Before coming to Japan, I was given advice about what to expect here.  “Don’t hold open doors for people…they freak out.” (No, they don’t)  “Kids will make a mad dash for your crotch.”  (Yup)  “They’ll make you try all sorts of stuff, even if you say you don’t like it.”  (Not really)  “You will always be an outsider, no matter what or how long you are there.”  This last one struck me as peculiar, even harsh.  It seemed to paint a picture that the Japanese aren’t affectionate or even all that welcoming.  In my experience here in Hokkaido, that statement couldn’t be further from the truth.

My relationship with my board of education can be likened to that of a second family.  At an enkai (party) it was discussed as to who played what role amongst my new Japanese “relatives.”  I have an aunt that likes to party.  A couple of smart uncles.  A smoky older brother.  Even a new grandpa and grandma.  Cute doesn’t even begin to describe it.

My Japanese おばあさん (grandmother) has been the pillar of this warm and fuzzy feeling.  She was my “office lady” at my board of education (BOE), and was the one that picked me up from the airport in Sapporo when I first arrived.  Her English is very limited, but somehow I always manage to understand what she’s saying.  She’s been an incredible help since I’ve been here.  She’s booked bus tickets, helped with the jungle of paperwork for my internet and car, and even drove me to school on rainy days before I got my car.  Above all the errands she helped me do and number of times she picked me up at the bus station, what stands out to me is her constant gift of food.  She prepared bento lunches for me whenever I wasn’t at a school or would treat me to lunch at my favorite soba shop.  When she picked me up from after a long bus ride, she’d have some late night snacks for me to munch on, knowing that I hadn’t eaten much of a dinner.  She retired at the beginning of March, but insists that I still have her pick me up after those long bus rides and has me over at her house for daily lunches with her and her mother.  Before leaving the States, I was told that it’d be a good long while before I would ever set foot into a Japanese home.  Boy, if they could see me now!

I’ve wondered a lot about why I’ve been able to easily become a part of the Japanese community here.  Maybe it’s because I’m half Korean so I look more Japanese than a blonde-haired blue-eyed white dude so I’m less threatening.  I’m sure that might play some role, but I doubt that it’s a very major role because my predecessors looked nothing like me and they seemed to also enjoy the warmth of the community here.  It could be the fact that this office is just accustomed to taking foreigners in under its wing and is more internationalized.  Yeah, that makes sense, but it doesn’t explain why I’ve become family friends with people I don’t work with.  Could it be that the folks here in Hokkaido are atypical from the Japanese in the rest of the country?  Possibly…Hokkaido folk tend to be more laid back than their neighbors to the south, and also less “Japanese” if that makes much sense.  But I still doubt that that’s it.    Maybe there’s something wrong with the warning statement in the first place.  Maybe it was said by someone who was just jaded that he didn’t get the hero’s welcome that he felt entitled to.  What it all boils down to, though, is the fact that I really don’t know.  I don’t need to question people’s motives behind their kindness.  I also don’t like attributing this phenomenon to anything based in what I’ve done.  I just think that I’m really lucky to be a part of a community that has warmly tucked me into their lives, and for that I can never think of myself as an outsider here.

My international driver’s license is set to expire at the end of July, and unless I want to repeat the mistakes of other ALTs, I’ll be taking the test for my Japanese driver’s license this month.  Just to set the scene…pretty much only Americans have to take the driver’s test to switch over to a Japanese license.  Folks from any of the Commonwealth countries (New Zealand, Canada, Australia, Britain, etc) and some other countries are lucky enough that they can switch over with just an official translation of their original license.  Apparently it’s based on the supposed difficulties of the respective country’s driver’s tests, but I have my suspicions.  From day one, I have heard horror stories of the wacky and absurd Japanese driver’s test and the ominous presumption that no one ever passes it on the first go.  I took these warnings with a grain of salt, especially since I had at least three friends that had passed the test their first time.

Now, heh, well…people were certainly not understating the screwiness of this test.  I had my first lesson, at 7am (!) on a workday, and boy howdy was it frustrating.  First, these little lessons are expensive, so that’s already under my skin.  Next, there are innumerable quirks that I have to remember each time I get into the car and get out of it.  Walk behind the car, not in front.  Check in front of the car for any sleeping hobos.  Before you open the door, look both ways.  Getting into the car feet-first is a BIG no-no.  When you close the door from the inside, only close it most of the way and look back again to check for those on-coming cyclists.  Adjust your seat.  Put on your seatbelt.  Check your mirrors (no glancing here, actual physical touch is required).  Put your foot on the brake.  Start the engine.  Release the emergency brake.  Put the car in drive.  Turn on your blinker (or as my instructor called it, “winker.”  *chuckle chuckle*).  Check around starting from your back left to your back right.  Then slowly pull out.  Yikes!  And that’s only to get out of the parking enclave.  So no doubt, as you can see, this is a MAJOR pain in the ass.  I don’t know yet if there are minor infractions you can get away with or if everything is a major “DA-ME” and you fail if you forget one thing.  My instructor was very thorough, which was nice, BUT she kept on using the brake and putting her hands on the steering wheel so it often felt like she was doing the important parts.  And of course, lacking the language facilities to request otherwise, I had a subpar learning experience.  The good news is that she didn’t think I was incompetent and thought I would be definitely ready for the test after one more lesson (that’s another 60 bucks for her).

I’ll leave you all with my favorite little tidbits from the lesson:

1. Hug the curbs so you can be sure to hit those kids on bikes if they suddenly move off the path.  Not really, but seriously, they want you to be within 50cm of the curb.
2. Use your blinker/winker a LOT.
3. No brakes allowed on turns.

Good luck!

Update: You can add another name to the list of folks that passed the test the first time!  Woo hoo.  I’m now an officially licensed Japanese driver.  You know what that means!  I can do ANYTHING! (so long as I have my hazards on)

The weather’s warmer and that means it’s time for field day!  The middle and elementary schools all burst alive with their 運動会 (undoukai—literally, exercise meet).  I hear people calling it a ‘sports day,’ but really, there isn’t anything all that sporty about it.  Although there are 100 meter dashes and a 1200 meter relay race, it’s filled mostly with wacky races.  It’s definitely more of a throwback to field days I had in elementary school and even the crazy WACKO games we had in high school. (WACKO was a sort of wacky olympics we had in high school where each grade level, and the teachers, would compete against each other for the crown.)  For two or three weeks prior to the festival, usually around the end of May and beginning of June here in Hokkaido, the classes practice in the afternoons to get ready for the big day.

Ok.  So get this.  I think it’s quite ironic how Japan always seems so bureaucratically safe in everything from their absurd driver’s test to their extremely low speed limits.  But unofficially, they’re a reckless and impetuous people!  They drive around with televisions in their cars and their kids balanced on the dashboard (no joke).  Or they drive 50 cm from a curb so as to be sure not to miss that mis-stepping pedestrian.  Oh, and remember the old people?  Anyways, for field day they have a race called the kawa kudari.  It consists of a student walking on top of his classmates backs as they bend over using a long pole for support while the students recycle through for about 200 meters.  The kids are about a meter up in the air running across their classmates’ backs as fast as possible.  Oi.  It’s a mouthful of smashed teeth waiting to happen.  (Amazingly, nothing bad happened from the numerous practices to the actual competition)  Then there’s also the crazy seven man leg-tie train race.  The students stand in small lines of seven or eight and all of their right and left legs are tied together respectively so they have to coordinate right steps and left steps with shouts of “one” and “two.”  Now in this one, as soon as they get going, one person tripping leads to all the others in front to eat shit.  I will admit though that this was my favorite one to watch because a group could just be trucking along and next thing you know they’re flat on the ground.  It’s good for a laugh.

Just like golf and baseball games, field day is subject to the weather.  They postpone to the next day in case of rain.  The presence of fireworks at 6am the morning of indicate whether or not the field day will happen.  The morning of our field day, I could hear the rain on my roof before the fireworks were set to fire.  6:00am rolled around and boom, boom, boom.  Field day was a go.  We’re rugged Hokkaido folk that won’t let a little rain get in the way of our field day!  By the time I arrived at school, the rain had abated.  Field day was held out on the school field or “ground” as they call it.  Families lined the sidelines, each had pitched their own tents and coverings in case the rain returned.  As with any event here in Japan, there was an opening ceremony and speeches, then we launched into our collective calisthenics.  For the group exercise, they used a recording with a piano that sounded like it was from 1950.  It’s another comical moment as the students’ enthusiasm for the senior aerobics-esque exercises vary from person to person.  Arms fly around, there’s some jumping, and I think there was even a move to make sure your dentures stayed in place.

We had made it through the major (legitimately competitive) races and the tug-of-war (!) when the rain started to come down again.  At first it was just on and off sprinkles, but soon, it turned into a decent shower.  Determined to press on, we continued.  Eventually, pretty much everyone was soaked to the bone and we decided to cut the beloved folk dance (that was a weird event, I admit) so we could wrap up early.  One of the third year classes had emerged victorious and posed with the winning trophy next to the scoreboard.  In spite of the rain, or maybe even because of it, we had a fun (and quick) field day.  The students all open up more for these non-academic activities and it’s great to interact with their toothy smiles and upbeat energies.  Too bad they have their big midterms the next week…

Later, at the post-event party, I suggested to the teachers that there should be a faculty relay team next year.  They laughed at the suggestion and agreed, but only if I ran three legs of it.

Every year, the first week of May is riddled with holidays such as Boy’s Day, Greenery Day, and Constitution Day.  Combined with the weekend, this slough of holidays constitutes an extended holiday of five days, otherwise known as Golden Week (although some years aren’t as advantageous and you only get a three or four day holiday).  You can think of it as the Japanese Spring Break, but for most everyone, not just schools.  I had made big plans to return to my old stomping grounds.  Back in the late 1980’s, I lived in Misawa, which is in the Aomori Prefecture—the northernmost prefecture on Honshu.  My dad was in the Air Force and we lived there at the American military base for three years.  Since Hokkaido is relatively close to Aomori, Golden Week was a great opportunity to make the trek.

Along with some friends, we struck out at dawn to catch our morning ferry from Tomakomai to Hachinohe.  Tomakomai is a port town located on the coast directly south of Sapporo and Chitose airport while Hachinohe is on the Pacific coast of the Aomori Prefecture (it’s also the northernmost stop for the Shinkansen [bullet train]).  Nine hours on a ferry isn’t exactly my idea of a good time, but I counted myself lucky as the large room we shared with some twenty other people had children of the cute and adorable type, rather than of the whiney and obnoxious breed.  We stayed one night in Hachinohe, a place my family used to go to frequently when I was younger.  I have memories of the “Fantasy Dome”—an indoor amusement park—and trips to Kentucky Fried Chicken, but it had been 20 years since I was there last and I probably couldn’t map out the city very well on my own.

The next day, coffees in hand, we made our way out to Misawa Air Force Base to see how much I could remember and how much it changed.  But first (!), on our way to Misawa, we saw a sign directing folks to “Japan’s Largest Statue of Liberty.”  We just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to see what very well could be the world’s second largest Statue of Liberty.  Being everything we hoped for and more (the more being Lady Liberty’s peculiarly square jaw line), we carried on to the place where I spent three years of my life.

We swung by the ocean and I could see the familiar beaches and breakers, even a mural that was around when I was there—granted the paintings most likely changed several times after the years.  Then Misawa!  The town where I went to many a festival and even one time explored solo by my five year old “runaway” self (it wasn’t pretty…there were Cocoa Puffs eaten from out of a garbage bag at one point…).  Finally, after twenty years I’d be getting back to the roots of my internationalization!  “Uh…where is everything again?”  “Oh, this is where I…no, wait…maybe it’s over this hill…er, maybe not.”  “Oh, so we definitely can’t go onto the base…hmm.”  It was a bit anti-climatic.  Everything seemed like it changed so much, at least from what I had painted in my memory.   I’m not quite sure what I had expected.   I felt a little embarrassed for dragging my companions to this bedraggled town so we hightailed it out of there and made for the open, yet narrow, roads of the Aomori countryside.  (As a side note, I had emailed the American military base well ahead of time to see if we could get a tour, but as luck would have it, they didn’t respond until after we had left Misawa…bummer.)

We rolled on into the Aomori mountains to get to our primary destination, Lake Towada.  The lake is a gorgeous crater lake and is a very popular destination during holidays.  Using the lake as our home base, we also went to Hirosaki to try and get in some prime cherry blossom viewing and to check out Hirosaki-jo (jo = castle).  Hirosaki is another place we visited several times in my childhood.  The castle, I believe, is relatively small compared to the more grand castles down south in Kyoto and Osaka.  But, we don’t have castles in Hokkaido, so it was still a neat sight.  It felt a lot smaller than I remembered, but of course, back then, I was a couple feet shorter.  The castle park had its ongoing festival with all sorts of games for children and tons of food.  They even had ice cream that I remember getting way back when.  The flavor was quite distinct!  And of course, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to indulge in Aomori’s number one crop—apples.  Usually, apples cost around $1.50 or $2.00 per apple, but down here, at the source, they were around $0.60.  Not only were they cheap, but so sweet and juicy!

After our two days of chilling—Aomori-style—we had to make our way back to our home.  We had an early ferry to catch out of Aomori…and when I say early, I mean 5:30am (yeah, actually early).  Oh, and we had to be there at 4:30am for the check in.  And with the two hour commute from Towada to Aomori, we had to bust on out of our hotel at 2:30am.  Try to explain that to the front desk guys with limited Japanese!  (It’s not fun)  In spite of our ungodly early departure time, there was a sunny side to being up so early.  The time zone here in Japan is a bit wacky, and results in unusually early sunrises.  So as we pulled into Aomori around 4:30am, we were able to catch a beautiful sunrise at 4:46am.  Five hours later, our ferry landed in Hakodate and we began the long drive up to Sapporo, where we would spend the night before returning back home.  All in all, it was a great Golden Week.  Post-meal constitutionals were plentiful.  Lucid, yet challenging, conversation was satisfying.  And any guff that appeared along the way was quickly snuffed by a countervailing retort…particularly from sassy tourist children.

When I first arrived here, my little house had a small garden in my backyard.  Unfortunately, I didn’t do a very good job of tending to it and it quickly devolved into disarray.  From what I remember, there were tons of peppers, cherry tomatoes, some parsley looking stuff, and Japanese eggplant.  In fact, one of the first things I noticed about my town was how practically every home had a decently sized garden.  Even my neighbor in the duplex had converted the yard completely into a garden and had a couple rows (!) of corn and various other vegetables.  I think this is a trait indicative of small town Hokkaido.  Everyone has their corn, edamame, tomatoes, and cabbages growing right in their yard.  Although just ten minutes away in Kitami, I had difficulty spotting any sort of garden amongst the tightly packed neighborhoods.  With the coming of spring and the busy gardening season, I’m thoroughly excited about the prospect of growing some of my own food.  Windowsill herb garden…what what!?

 This recent spike in my gardening interest owes its development to two things.  First, I’ve befriended a couple of folks who are vegan.  I look forward to meals with them as I know that they eat creatively and utilize many of the weird vegetables at our fingertips in the Japanese supermarkets.  You couldn’t pay me to eat vegetables when I was a child, but now, there isn’t much I won’t eat (although brussel sprouts and cauliflower are still on my shit list).  My favorite thing about my dabbles in vegan fare is that I’ve had to learn how to make things from scratch since many processed foods have milk products or eggs in them.  The second beacon in my food and gardening renaissance was the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver.  While she is known primarily for her fiction, such as The Poisonwood Bible and The Bean Trees, I have found her non-fiction to be equally enticing.  Barbara (yep, first name basis) was a biologist before she turned author and her writing is reflective of her scientific background.  She also has the added perk of a wit similar to Gail Collins’ motherly crass.  The book is a memoir of a year her family successfully spent growing as much of their own food as they could and eating locally in rural Appalachia.  More than anything, I loved how she talked about the culture of food.  For anyone that has known me for a year or two, they should know that I LOVE to talk about food.  Per Jon Stewart and Seth Rogan, the way I talk about food could make me Jewish.  Anyways, the book has its underpinnings around food culture and bringing back the importance of the kitchen.  She underscores using produce that are fresh, local, and in season, and helped me develop a newfound appreciation of local farmers’ market.

 These two factors have combined, in a Captain Planet sort of fashion, to give me a vegetable fascination that makes me giddy with excitement about the upcoming growing season.  Here in Hokkaido, we certainly aren’t short on farmland and farmers.  In fact, one of my Eikaiwa (English conversation group) members is a full-fledged farmer—you can buy her produce at the supermarkets!  Unfortunately, one of the things that I am uncertain about here is the concept of a farmers’ market.  Back in Seattle, we had the omnipresent Pike’s Place Market, but also had dozens of neighborhood markets (oh man how I miss Tiny’s peaches).  So far, I don’t know of any farmers’ markets as it seems that most farmers deal directly with supermarkets or the behemoth JA (Japan Agriculture) entity for distribution.  I’ll have to keep an eye out for any markets if they exist out here.  However, the abundance of home gardens might negate the necessity for a farmers’ market, at least out here in the boonies.

 My town has a large community garden where you can rent 35 square meters for about $40 a year.  This would probably be more than enough space to feed me throughout the year, however that might be a tad ambitious for someone with limited gardening experience.  I think I’ll stick to my windowsill herbs and small backyard plot.  I’ve made a great list of things I want to grow…they are a bit of a reach given that my little plot of land isn’t that big.  I’ve got lettuce and spinach aplenty. I’ve kale and zucchini to boot.  Want edamame?  I’ve got twenty.  But who cares…da da da dah…I want more…sorry…Little Mermaid moment.  But seriously, it’s going to be great.  There are some big plans for some cilantro and maybe sunflowers.  It’s pretty exciting.  Oh, and did I mention that asparagus grows wild here?  Giddy up.

 *update.  Yes, my town does have a farmers’ market, but I’ve been warned that it’s tiny and only on Saturdays and Sundays.  It starts toward the end of May, so we’ll see if I can find any gems.

A couple months ago, Japan won its second consecutive World Baseball Classic (WBC) after defeating team Korea in the championships.  We watched the games during lunch breaks at school and the office.  They always ask me which team I like, and I always just give a shrug of my shoulders.  I find baseball to be rather boring (although the Ichiro craze has rubbed off a bit).  At a Mariners’ game back in Seattle, I read a book while they proceeded to get slaughtered by the Red Sox.  My indifference to baseball is practically a crime here.  EVERYONE is in to baseball.  They’ve all got their favorite players and teams.  The baseball clubs here practice an ungodly amount of time, putting American little league to shame.  I’m curious as to why this specific sport has taken off with such huge popularity here.  It probably has something to do with the influx of American culture after the war, but still, the degree of fanaticism is remarkable. 

 Our local yakiniku joint (table-side barbecue restaurant) is absolutely bonkers for the Hanshin Tigers.  The area around the checkout counter is plastered with memorabilia, newspaper clippings, and photos of the players.  The owner always wears orange and blue, the team’s colors.  Oh and get this, his two sons, both of whom are my students, have their hair cut in a specific way to resemble the team’s mascot.  They don’t just do this for the baseball season…it’s all year long.  It would be cruel to force them to cut it like that, but dad does it too, so maybe it’s just cool.  And yes, they are always in their blue and orange tracksuits.

 I’m a little curious though about the baseball culture here in Japan, especially with the big steroids controversy back home.  Does anything like that happen here?  I know the sumo profession is riddled with corruption, but has baseball been able to steer clear of those traditional pitfalls?  Looks like I’m going to have to bone up and make my way to a game.  Watch out Ham Fighters (it’s the Sapporo team…don’t ask), I’ll be watchin’ you!