Hiking "on" Mt. Aso

This past Friday I went hiking with the "ni-nensei" or "second graders." (They aren't really second graders as we know them, but rather the kids in the second grade of junior high school. Even in high school, you can be in the second grade! But more on that some other day.) That was the third trip I took with the "ni-nensei." (We also visited a folklore museum in Shiiba and shrines in Takachiho and Amanoiwato, but more on those trips another other day.) I was told we were going to climb Mt. Aso. We didn't actually climb Mt. Aso, however, since Aso is a volcano. As a matter of fact, Aso is supposedly the world's largest active volcano. I have no idea if that is true and, since this was the first time I'd ever seen a volcano up close, I can't exactly say it was a giant compared to others. But it was big.

In any case, we did climb a mountain and the peak we made it to the top of is called "Nakadake" (basically: "middle peak") and is 1506 meters high. There was another peak on the mountain that is called "Takadake" (basically: "high/top peak") and is 1592 meters high, but unfortunately, I only made it to about 1520 meters. You see, like I said, I wasn't alone on the hike, so I couldn't just go off on my own. I tried, but then I turned around.

I was part of a group of three that made it to Nakadake first, well ahead of the rest of the pack. I tried to convince the two kids I was with that we should go on to the next peak, since part of my climbing nature is to make it to the highest possible peak. At first they resisted, but then they came along. But after only about a minute, they hesitated again. I initially went on by myself, since I figured I would need about 25 minutes to get to the top of Takadake and back, but then decided the two kids had the better idea: We should wait for everyone else. So I reluctantly turned around.

Eventually, the whole group made it to Nakadake and we had lunch next to the peak. If you know Japan, you would correctly guess what lunch was: Yes, a bento box! Actually, we had two bento boxes: One with three triangular onigiri and the other with the "meal." I gave away my "sausage," more like a frankfurter, as well as the two little umeboshi (pickled plums) on top of two of the three onigiri, but ate the rest.

I expected to go down the same trail that we went up, which was not very steep and therefore relatively easy to climb, but our leader decided to take us around to the other side of the volcano. So we ended up hiking kind of in a big "U" around the volcano and our bus had to come around to the other parking lot to pick us up.

The closest we got to the volcano was on the way up. We were able to see part of the way down into the crater and we were also able to see smoke rising up from the crater. But without being foolhardy or paying for a helicopter ride, there was no way to get a great look inside the crater. (There appeared to be two craters, but I suppose they are considered to be one.)

The route down was a lot steeper than the route up and I was thankful then that we had hiked in the direction we had gone in because we wouldn't have had much fun climbing up that steep path. When we got to the bottom, we walked along what must have been ash or a mixture of ash and sand. I had the feeling we were walking along a desert, except that the sand was black. At one point, most of us started to cough slightly, since we could smell what I suppose was sulfur dioxide coming from the volcano, but no one got sick. We were far enough from the crater that the smell was not overwhelming.

Up until that point, we hadn't come across many people along the trail. But as soon as we made it to the parking lot, I realized how much of a tourist spot Mt. Aso really is. Every few minutes or so a tour bus pulled in to the parking lot and unloaded about 50 passengers. Most of the tourists apparently don't hike the trails. Instead, they ride the cable car up to the observation platform near the edge of the crater, eat at the restaurant, and shop in the souvenir stores. I almost wish we had gone back the way we went up so that I never would have seen the touristy part of Mt. Aso.

Oddities about baseball and softball in Japan

Before I came here, I heard that a bunch of the teachers at my school were on a baseball team called "The Bombers." So I asked my supervisor if I could join the team. Lucky for me, they were happy to have me. And about two weeks after I arrived, we had our first games. Even though that day we were just playing softball, and co-ed softball at that, I was happy to be on a ball field again.

The tournament was held at the G-park (which is presumably short for Gokase-park), a pretty nice athletic facility right across the street from the school. I got quite a dose of Japanese baseball/softball culture that day, starting with the field itself. Some of what I experienced: Most fields in Japan have an all-dirt infield; the players on the opposing teams bow to each other before the game starts; the quality of play isn't as high as I expected for a baseball-mad country like Japan; and we had to wear pin-on jersey numbers, which is apparently not a rarity. Anyway, I just did my best to go with the flow.

A couple weeks later, I finally got my first taste of Japanese baseball, starting with a nighttime practice in preparation for our first game. The first thing I noticed was that we played with "Kenko" balls, a type of rubber baseball. I had heard about them and perhaps even seen them before, but this was the first time that I was actually playing with them. What a weird feeling that was! I was so psyched to play "real" baseball only to find out that I was reduced to playing "rubber" baseball. But within ten seconds or so, I accepted my fate and decided to make the most of it. (If there's one thing I learned from all the years I spent playing and coaching baseball in Germany, Switzerland, and Austria, it's that the best way to deal with cultural differences is to accept them as quickly as possible rather than fight them.)

After a few minutes, I even began to enjoy using the rubber balls, at least on defense, because they took true hops (at least in the infield!), they were easier to throw than a baseball since they were a bit smaller and lighter, and the chance of getting injured was pretty low. But when I came up to hit, I realized that unless you hit the ball square, you weren't going to do much more than hit a weak grounder or pop-up, or put a bunch of wicked backspin on the ball. It was then clear to me that games would go pretty fast. Kenko baseball is therefore kind of like softball, in that the game goes faster than a baseball game.

Oh, and batters don't wear helmets! That rule kind of stinks, but again, there's nothing I can do about it. But it's definitely no fun when a guy is throwing 60-70 mph fastballs and you're not wearing a helmet, even if the balls are made of rubber. I swear in my first game I was getting the gaijin treatment. Guess where the first pitch of every one of my plate appearances was? That's right, they went whizzing by my head!

Another thing I find odd about Japanese baseball is the spikes that many of the players wear. They have these totally old-school spikes, the kind that players wore in the United States in the 50's. And those shoes are expensive. They cost anywhere from about (the equivalent of) $70-125! That's unbelievable! Lucky for me I brought a great pair with me!

And we have four(!) (player-)umpires for our games. How ridiculous is that?

Oh, and here's one final interesting tidbit about baseball over here, at least for now: They make bats especially for the "rubber" game that have rubber barrels! My team has two such bats, and since they look like any ol' other aluminum baseball bat, it took me quite a while before I discovered that they were indeed different. All I know is, I wasn't exactly crushing the ball so I kept switching bats in order to find the "perfect" one. And at some point I put one of the specialized ones in my hands. Shazam! Guess which bat I've been using ever since? And yes, I am hitting much better. Coincidence?

Irashaimase! Irashaimase!

Here is a little video featuring one of the many speakers that are a common sight in supermarkets and other stores. They have little sensors on them and thus start up automatically when someone approaches. This particular one is located in one of the few grocery stores in Takachiho. It's called A-COOP. The "A" stands for "agriculture" or "agricultural." If you listen closely, you'll be able to hear the male voice blaring out "irashaimase!" twice in rapid succession before going on to indicate some sort of sale. I can't make out too much of what he says myself, except for a couple of prices, but by now I certainly know what "irashaimase" means. Especially in A-COOP, you hear that word a million times. It means something like "welcome," but I think it's more of a "I'm here to serve you." It's the first thing you hear in many stores, but the employees at A-COOP go a bit overboard with it. It's pretty funny how often they say it. Even the cashiers, in the middle of ringing customers up, blurt out a constant stream of "irashaimases." It reminds me a bit of walking into a Waffle House. As soon as you enter the door, you get greeted by a chorus of "Welcome to Waffle House" or whatever it was that they say.

Not all of these speakers greet customers with "irashaimase" but they all have one thing in common: They make the customer aware of a special offer. Plus, they are a bit annoying. In Tokyo we were exposed to similar greetings on the streets from store employees and other people selling various things. But, according to my buddy Carl, the concept is carried to far more ridiculous extremes in China. Thank goodness that's not the case here.

Quite a Joy Full restaurant!

There is this really cool restaurant called Joy Full that we were introduced to by my supervisor. He took us there on our first night in town. I guess you could say that Joy Full is a Japanese version of Denny's. Except that the food at Joy Full is really good! And cheap. The place really looks like a regular ol' American-style diner, with booth seating and a drink bar. And the restaurant has these fabulous menus that are full of bright and colorful pictures. That makes ordering easy for someone like me who doesn't speak much Japanese, since all you have to do is point at the picture of what you want. They even serve hamburgers, cheeseburgers, French fries, pizza, spaghetti, and ice cream, for those of you who are thinking of visiting and don't want to eat Japanese food for some reason. But if you do want Japanese food, Joy Full is also the place for you. My favorite meal is fried pieces of marinated pork served over a pile of shredded cabbage, along with rice, miso soup and a pickled vegetable, all for about $5.25, including tax (you don't tip in Japan). It's really yummy!

The picture above shows the new menu that came out recently. That gives you an idea of what the restaurant is like. Judging by the cover, it's actually almost unbelievable that the restaurant is Japanese! And the new menu has far more English than the old one. "Grand Menu"? And pictures of pizza, beef, and a hot dog? What's going on here?

To be continued...

Rice, rice, and more rice!

I'm sure you know that the Japanese eat a lot of rice. And before coming here, I knew I would be eating a lot of rice. But I didn't realize just how much rice the Japanese eat. Take a look at this dormitory cafeteria meal plan for October and you'll be able to see for yourself. I've highlighted the gohan, i.e., rice, in pink. On 20 of the 31 days in October, rice is served for breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Holy cow!

I generally only eat in the cafeteria for lunch. (I have only had dinner there once and have yet to have breakfast there.) So it's not like I'm eating rice as often as the locals. But get this: We just bought a bag of rice for the first time in Japan the other day (5 kg for about 1980 yen). So now we have started having rice for dinner at home. I can't imagine having rice for breakfast as well, but maybe that's next.

Oh, and in case you're wondering what we have for breakfast, well, we eat stuff that we usually eat in the States, such as: various types of rolls/bread, eggs, granola, and fruit.

Of course, the Japanese eat "sticky" rice, which makes it easy to eat with chopsticks. And at lunch I've noticed that most kids (and staff members) eat every last grain of their rice! So I do my best to do so as well. In the States, people might look at you funny if you were to pick your bowl of rice clean. But over here, it's quite OK to concentrate intently so that you can get those last few grains, one by one, between the tips of your chopsticks and into your mouth.

As a matter of fact, I've noticed that most of the kids and staff members who eat in the dormitory cafeteria finish just about every last bite of all their food, not just their rice. I think I was pretty good about doing that before I came here, but now I guess I try even harder to not waste any food. Have a look for yourself at this "after" picture. Not bad, eh?

On another note: Look closely and you'll see a tiny straw for the milk (which is also served each and every day for lunch and almost every day for dinner!). I never use the straw, but I'm one of the only ones who doesn't. I think the straw is pure waste. I used to think that the Japanese had a problem with touching the milk carton directly with their mouths and therefore insisted on using the straws. But they drink from plenty of other containers without using straws. Hmmm? I smell a topic for another blog...