Last Wednesday morning, everyone in town over the age of 40, including me, was supposed to go in for a stomach cancer screening. So I made my way down to the town hall parking lot, took a seat outside the big truck (a mobile lab), and waited for my turn to be inspected.
In order to get our stomachs to expand so that the doctor could get a good look at our stomachs on his monitor and take clear x-rays, we had to swallow some pop-rocks-like material with water(?), followed by a cupful of barium sulfate mixed with water. That was a strange experience.
The mixture looked like just like milk, except it was really thick and really heavy, and it didn't have much flavor. So I can't say I enjoyed drinking it. And since Japanese people have trouble pronouncing the letter "r," when the say "barium" it sounds a lot more like "Valium." What, you want me to take Valium? Are you nuts?
After I drank the barium "meal," I was told to lie down on a horizontal table/bed. The doctor then moved the table/bed electronically up and down and even into a nearly vertical position at one point. Every few seconds or so he told me to move a bit to the right or left or even to rotate around completely. The problem was, I barely understood anything he was telling me. The doctor often had to interrupt the process and take a hands-on approach to moving me. You'd think doctors, who have such an important job, would know a bit of English, wouldn't you? Not this one.
After the inspection, the doctor gave me four little red tablets. I kind of got the gist that I was supposed to take two of them right away, but I wasn't sure what the other two were for. Luckily, the next guy in line, who was also in the lab waiting his turn, spoke really good English. So he explained to me what the pills were for. Based on what the guy told me, I guess you could say his English was maybe too good:
"You should take two of the pills now, with water. Then you shit!"
And what about the other two pills?
"If you don't shit, take the other two pills. But wait five or six hours. Then take the pills and you'll shit."
Wait, the pills do what?
"They make you shit!"
I swear, the guy must have said "shit" about five times during our brief conversation. But how can I expect him to know the term "bowel movement"?
Before taking the pills, I wanted to be absolutely sure that I was indeed supposed to take them. So I asked the doctor for some water. He told me he didn't have any for me.
When he said that, I figured that meant I wouldn't have much time between taking the pills and having to "shit." So I figured I'd wait until I got back to school to take the pills, so I'd be within easy reach of a toilet!
When I got back to school, I started searching the Internet for information pertaining to stomach cancer screening, since I never heard of such a thing in America.
It turns out, if the information I read is correct, that stomach cancer is far more prevalent in Japan and Korea, for instance, than in the U.S. Apparently, the high rates of stomach cancer are due at least in part to the food they eat here:
Foods high in starch and low in fiber (can you say, "rice"?), and a diet high in smoked, salted, or pickled foods (they love pickled plums called umeboshi, they also enjoy a little pickled something called tsukemono with many meals, and they probably have miso soup, which is high in salt content, two or three times a day).
So now I have yet another reason to not eat rice very often.
I also wonder why the Japanese aren't giving up rice, too, if it contributes to stomach cancer. But asking the Japanese to give up rice is like asking the President to move from the White House to a cottage. It won't be happening any time soon!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Monday, June 16, 2008
A Year of Firsts
I've experienced a bunch of "firsts" since I arrived in Japan more than ten months ago.
For instance, this is the first time I've ever been to Asia. And this is the first time I've tried learning a foreign language on the fly.
I've also eaten several foods for the first time, most notably whale, horse, and bee larvae. (I need to write a blog about food some day! But for now, that story is on the back burner. Ha ha!)
In February, I ran in my first road relay race and also went downhill skiing for the first time. And in May, I got a foreign driver's license for the first time.
And here's my latest first: Yesterday, I participated in my very first swim meet!
The sport I love the most, by far, is baseball, but because I'm not getting my fill of baseball over here in Japan, I've started to get more involved in other sports. For instance, often, after school, I practice with the basketball team. And about once I week, I like to go swimming at the
pool in Takachiho.
So how did I end up in a swim meet? Two words: Sato Shinro.
I met Shinro-san at the Takachiho pool one day in October. He came over to me and asked if I'd be interested in swimming in a meet in the summer. I thought he was crazy for asking, because I'm really not a very good swimmer. Shinro-san's invitation was a win-win situation, however, so, after a bit of hesitation, I said, "Sure."
After all, this was a great opportunity to do something I had never done before and gain some Japanese friends while doing it. What a deal!
Shinro-san goes to the pool just about every day. Some days he practices swimming and other says he gives lessons. He usually gives lessons to kids, but he has also helped me out quite a bit. (Then again, I'm still a kid at heart!)
Shinro-san is a cheerful guy who likes to drink and smoke, and he sometimes rides around town on his dirt bike! Oh, and Shinro-san is 64 years old!
He reminds me a bit of my Swiss buddy Hans, because they are both in their 60's and both very active. Just as Hans is one of my heroes, so, too, but to a lesser degree, is Shinro-san!
One of the other guys on the team is Shajiri Eiji. Eiji-san is 59 and, like Shinro-san, a fun guy and a smoker. He's also a faster swimmer than both of us, at least for now. I didn't meet him until about March, probably because we don't go to the pool at the same time that often, but I'm glad I get to see him once in a while.
Two of the coolest points regarding my training over the months are that I've learned how to dive off of a starting block (although that doesn't necessarily mean I've learned how to dive!) and I've learned how to do a flip-turn (that's getting better by the day!).
Yesterday, at the Aquadome in Kumamoto City, I swam in the 25-meter and the 50-meter freestyle events. Even though the Aquadome has a 50-meter pool, all of the events were held in the 25-meter pool.
If you know a bit about competitive swimming, you'll know that my times weren't very good: 16.20 and 37.04, respectively. But both of those times are personal bests.
I'm especially happy with my time in the 25-meter race, since that's the race I practiced the most. And considering that my unofficial time from a year ago over that distance was about 25 seconds, it's obvious that I've improved dramatically.
But looking at a video of the race and the times of the other swimmers in my age group, I can see that I have a long way to go before I reach my peak time!
The next meet is in November, so hopefully by then I can lower my times to at least 14 and 35.
Before that, however, I'm planning yet another first: My first triathlon!
The triathlon will be held here at school. Even though it's basically open only to the fifth-graders, I've gotten the green light to participate and I have a feeling a couple other teachers will take part as well. It's a great triathlon for a beginner like me, since the distances are relatively short: a 400 m swim, followed by 8 km on the bike, and wrapped up with a 3 km run.
I'm going to show those kids that old farts like me can still kick some butt!
For instance, this is the first time I've ever been to Asia. And this is the first time I've tried learning a foreign language on the fly.
I've also eaten several foods for the first time, most notably whale, horse, and bee larvae. (I need to write a blog about food some day! But for now, that story is on the back burner. Ha ha!)
In February, I ran in my first road relay race and also went downhill skiing for the first time. And in May, I got a foreign driver's license for the first time.
And here's my latest first: Yesterday, I participated in my very first swim meet!
The sport I love the most, by far, is baseball, but because I'm not getting my fill of baseball over here in Japan, I've started to get more involved in other sports. For instance, often, after school, I practice with the basketball team. And about once I week, I like to go swimming at the
pool in Takachiho.So how did I end up in a swim meet? Two words: Sato Shinro.
I met Shinro-san at the Takachiho pool one day in October. He came over to me and asked if I'd be interested in swimming in a meet in the summer. I thought he was crazy for asking, because I'm really not a very good swimmer. Shinro-san's invitation was a win-win situation, however, so, after a bit of hesitation, I said, "Sure."
After all, this was a great opportunity to do something I had never done before and gain some Japanese friends while doing it. What a deal!
Shinro-san goes to the pool just about every day. Some days he practices swimming and other says he gives lessons. He usually gives lessons to kids, but he has also helped me out quite a bit. (Then again, I'm still a kid at heart!)
Shinro-san is a cheerful guy who likes to drink and smoke, and he sometimes rides around town on his dirt bike! Oh, and Shinro-san is 64 years old!
He reminds me a bit of my Swiss buddy Hans, because they are both in their 60's and both very active. Just as Hans is one of my heroes, so, too, but to a lesser degree, is Shinro-san!
One of the other guys on the team is Shajiri Eiji. Eiji-san is 59 and, like Shinro-san, a fun guy and a smoker. He's also a faster swimmer than both of us, at least for now. I didn't meet him until about March, probably because we don't go to the pool at the same time that often, but I'm glad I get to see him once in a while.
Two of the coolest points regarding my training over the months are that I've learned how to dive off of a starting block (although that doesn't necessarily mean I've learned how to dive!) and I've learned how to do a flip-turn (that's getting better by the day!).
Yesterday, at the Aquadome in Kumamoto City, I swam in the 25-meter and the 50-meter freestyle events. Even though the Aquadome has a 50-meter pool, all of the events were held in the 25-meter pool.
If you know a bit about competitive swimming, you'll know that my times weren't very good: 16.20 and 37.04, respectively. But both of those times are personal bests.
I'm especially happy with my time in the 25-meter race, since that's the race I practiced the most. And considering that my unofficial time from a year ago over that distance was about 25 seconds, it's obvious that I've improved dramatically.
But looking at a video of the race and the times of the other swimmers in my age group, I can see that I have a long way to go before I reach my peak time!
The next meet is in November, so hopefully by then I can lower my times to at least 14 and 35.
Before that, however, I'm planning yet another first: My first triathlon!
The triathlon will be held here at school. Even though it's basically open only to the fifth-graders, I've gotten the green light to participate and I have a feeling a couple other teachers will take part as well. It's a great triathlon for a beginner like me, since the distances are relatively short: a 400 m swim, followed by 8 km on the bike, and wrapped up with a 3 km run.
I'm going to show those kids that old farts like me can still kick some butt!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Rain, Rain, Go Away ...
Just when I thought the weather was finally going to improve here, the rainy season has arrived. I tell you, Japan's weather is nuts.
When I came here in August, the weather was so humid, I was like a human shower. The brutal sweating lasted until about mid-September. The "comfortable" season, as I call it, that followed lasted only about a month and a half, since winter arrived as early as November. For the most part, the cold lasted all the way until the end of April.
During May, when the temperatures finally started to go up, I started to dream about switching back to short-sleeve shirts, wearing shorts on my days off, swimming in the ocean on weekends, and going for hikes in the mountains.
But I had to put all those plans on hold when I heard about the rainy season.
Wait a second here. You mean, after all these months of suffering through the cold, just when summer is right around the corner, just when the weather has to get better, things are going to get worse? What a crock!
I tell you, I'm convinced that the Japanese have figured out a way to control the weather. You know how I told you that they like to suffer? Well, the crazy weather is further proof of that!
And to think that I actually got the memo (yes, I got the memo!) about the switch to short sleeves and no ties at school as of June 1 and lasting until the end of September!
It's now June 11 and, despite the relaxed dress code, I'm still wearing long-sleeve shirts. I wore short-sleeve shirts a couple of times earlier in the month, but it's just not warm enough to do that on a regular basis. As a matter of fact, it sometimes feels so cold that I'm thinking about taking some of my sweaters out of storage! And I'm not a fan of walking to school in the rain, but I'm going to do so, as long as it's not windy.
Anyway, the rainy season is supposed to last until about mid-July. And I've heard that it's going to rain every stinkin' day until then. Joy joy.
And after that, it's back to sweating like a pig...
When I came here in August, the weather was so humid, I was like a human shower. The brutal sweating lasted until about mid-September. The "comfortable" season, as I call it, that followed lasted only about a month and a half, since winter arrived as early as November. For the most part, the cold lasted all the way until the end of April.
During May, when the temperatures finally started to go up, I started to dream about switching back to short-sleeve shirts, wearing shorts on my days off, swimming in the ocean on weekends, and going for hikes in the mountains.
But I had to put all those plans on hold when I heard about the rainy season.
Wait a second here. You mean, after all these months of suffering through the cold, just when summer is right around the corner, just when the weather has to get better, things are going to get worse? What a crock!
I tell you, I'm convinced that the Japanese have figured out a way to control the weather. You know how I told you that they like to suffer? Well, the crazy weather is further proof of that!
And to think that I actually got the memo (yes, I got the memo!) about the switch to short sleeves and no ties at school as of June 1 and lasting until the end of September!
It's now June 11 and, despite the relaxed dress code, I'm still wearing long-sleeve shirts. I wore short-sleeve shirts a couple of times earlier in the month, but it's just not warm enough to do that on a regular basis. As a matter of fact, it sometimes feels so cold that I'm thinking about taking some of my sweaters out of storage! And I'm not a fan of walking to school in the rain, but I'm going to do so, as long as it's not windy.
Anyway, the rainy season is supposed to last until about mid-July. And I've heard that it's going to rain every stinkin' day until then. Joy joy.
And after that, it's back to sweating like a pig...
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
I passed! I passed! I passed! Yatta!
One of the strategies I had heard about for passing the driving test was to be sure to say "yoroshiku onegaishimasu" to the examiner. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu is a really useful Japanese expression that most people use when they meet someone for the first time, for instance. It often means something like, "Please be nice to me." In the case of the driving test, I suppose you could say the expression means, "Please allow me to pass."
I was waiting for the right moment to say that to my instructor, but that moment didn't really come. If it did come, I didn't recognize it or take advantage of it. So the test began without a yoroshiku. But I still had faith that I'd pass.
My next error occurred a few seconds later.
I remembered to look both ways before entering the car.
I remembered to play with the brake and gas pedals, adjust my seat, adjust the "room" mirror (for some strange reason, you don't adjust the side mirrors), and put my seat belt on.
I remembered to ensure that my passenger was wearing his seat belt.
I remembered to start the engine, put the car in drive, and release the parking brake.
I also remembered to look in the room mirror, look over my left shoulder, and then look over my right shoulder.
And I remembered to start driving.
What I forgot to do, however, was turn on my "winker" before looking in the room mirror and checking over my shoulders. Oh crap! That's minus 5 points already!
(A passing score is 70, which sounds easy to attain. But, from what I understand, you only get docked in increments of 5 points. Stray just a wee bit too far from the side of the road twice, for instance, and you're already looking at -20 points. So those 30 points you have to work with can disappear in a heartbeat.)
Fortunately, however, I caught myself just as I started to pull out of my parking spot. So I flicked the winker down to indicate that I was "turning" right a second before I flicked the winker back up to indicate that I was turning left onto the actual driving course.
(By the way, here in Japan, the windshield wiper switch is on the left and the winker switch is on the right. I'm so used to them being the other way around that I often turn on the wipers when I actually want to use my turn signal. Luckily, I never did that on the driving course!)
Looking back on that mistake, I'm not so sure it was a mistake. But I was taught to turn on my right winker before turning on my left winker, and I forgot to do so.
Why wasn't it a mistake, perhaps? Well, there are three lanes for cars where the course starts. From what I remember, when I was taking my lessons I had only started out from the left-hand side lane or the middle lane. When you pull out of either of those lanes, there is often a car to your right. So using you
r right-turn signal seems okay.
But here I was, pulling out from the far-right side for the first time. So I guess my driving instincts told me to not use my winker. But if I didn't use my right-turn winker, I guess I should have used my left-turn winker, right?
Anyway, I told myself not to worry about my little mistake and to keep concentrating on the task at hand. I had made an error on the first play of the game, but there was a lot more baseball to be played.
The rest of the test went fairly well. On at least one occasion, I was pretty sure I was too far from the side of the road. But again, I did my best to stay focused and get through the test without screwing up.
I guess the hardest part of the driving test was simply trying to stay calm. I was so nervous about half-way through the test that my right foot started to bounce up and down ever so slightly against the gas pedal. That was crazy!
When I made it through to the end of the course, I put the car in "park," pulled on the parking brake, and turned off the engine. I then said a brief arigato gozaimashita to the examiner, looked both ways before opening the door (no way was I going to forget that part!), and exited the car.
I still had no idea if I had passed the test.
The instructor then threw me one last curve ball.
There he stood, behind the car, on the passenger side, a serious expression still on his face, motioning toward his side of the car.
The following thoughts flashed through my mind:
"Now what? What the heck does he want me to do? Oh, crap, Taura-san must have forgotten to tell me something. Oh, geez, I better hurry up and figure out what he wants me to do or I'm probably going to fail the test. Am I supposed to look under the car? Am I supposed to walk around the car? Taura-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!"
Sensing my confusion, the instructor decided to help me. "Your things," he said.
Whew! All he wants is for me to get my wallet and keys and whatnot out of the car. Hooray!
But wait. Did I pass?
I then followed the instructor back into the waiting room. He put down his clipboard, faced me, and said ... "okay" while giving me the same hand signal.
That's it? Okay? Does "okay" mean "Okay for a foreigner," "Okay for the first time," or "Okay, you passed"?
Still not 100% sure if I passed, I looked back at the instructor, said something like, "Okay? Really?" and breathed a big sigh of relief.
I passed! I passed! I passed! Yatta!
For the most part, I contained my emotion. Nevertheless, my delight was more than clear to everyone in the licensing center.
One guy in particular, who I had seen the day before while I was taking my lessons, actually wondered aloud what the big fuss was all about:
"What did you expect? Of course you passed. You took those lessons yesterday."
See what I mean. Kiss ass and ye shall pass.
I was waiting for the right moment to say that to my instructor, but that moment didn't really come. If it did come, I didn't recognize it or take advantage of it. So the test began without a yoroshiku. But I still had faith that I'd pass.
My next error occurred a few seconds later.
I remembered to look both ways before entering the car.
I remembered to play with the brake and gas pedals, adjust my seat, adjust the "room" mirror (for some strange reason, you don't adjust the side mirrors), and put my seat belt on.
I remembered to ensure that my passenger was wearing his seat belt.
I remembered to start the engine, put the car in drive, and release the parking brake.
I also remembered to look in the room mirror, look over my left shoulder, and then look over my right shoulder.
And I remembered to start driving.
What I forgot to do, however, was turn on my "winker" before looking in the room mirror and checking over my shoulders. Oh crap! That's minus 5 points already!
(A passing score is 70, which sounds easy to attain. But, from what I understand, you only get docked in increments of 5 points. Stray just a wee bit too far from the side of the road twice, for instance, and you're already looking at -20 points. So those 30 points you have to work with can disappear in a heartbeat.)
Fortunately, however, I caught myself just as I started to pull out of my parking spot. So I flicked the winker down to indicate that I was "turning" right a second before I flicked the winker back up to indicate that I was turning left onto the actual driving course.
(By the way, here in Japan, the windshield wiper switch is on the left and the winker switch is on the right. I'm so used to them being the other way around that I often turn on the wipers when I actually want to use my turn signal. Luckily, I never did that on the driving course!)
Looking back on that mistake, I'm not so sure it was a mistake. But I was taught to turn on my right winker before turning on my left winker, and I forgot to do so.
Why wasn't it a mistake, perhaps? Well, there are three lanes for cars where the course starts. From what I remember, when I was taking my lessons I had only started out from the left-hand side lane or the middle lane. When you pull out of either of those lanes, there is often a car to your right. So using you
r right-turn signal seems okay.But here I was, pulling out from the far-right side for the first time. So I guess my driving instincts told me to not use my winker. But if I didn't use my right-turn winker, I guess I should have used my left-turn winker, right?
Anyway, I told myself not to worry about my little mistake and to keep concentrating on the task at hand. I had made an error on the first play of the game, but there was a lot more baseball to be played.
The rest of the test went fairly well. On at least one occasion, I was pretty sure I was too far from the side of the road. But again, I did my best to stay focused and get through the test without screwing up.
I guess the hardest part of the driving test was simply trying to stay calm. I was so nervous about half-way through the test that my right foot started to bounce up and down ever so slightly against the gas pedal. That was crazy!
When I made it through to the end of the course, I put the car in "park," pulled on the parking brake, and turned off the engine. I then said a brief arigato gozaimashita to the examiner, looked both ways before opening the door (no way was I going to forget that part!), and exited the car.
I still had no idea if I had passed the test.
The instructor then threw me one last curve ball.
There he stood, behind the car, on the passenger side, a serious expression still on his face, motioning toward his side of the car.
The following thoughts flashed through my mind:
"Now what? What the heck does he want me to do? Oh, crap, Taura-san must have forgotten to tell me something. Oh, geez, I better hurry up and figure out what he wants me to do or I'm probably going to fail the test. Am I supposed to look under the car? Am I supposed to walk around the car? Taura-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!"
Sensing my confusion, the instructor decided to help me. "Your things," he said.
Whew! All he wants is for me to get my wallet and keys and whatnot out of the car. Hooray!
But wait. Did I pass?
I then followed the instructor back into the waiting room. He put down his clipboard, faced me, and said ... "okay" while giving me the same hand signal.
That's it? Okay? Does "okay" mean "Okay for a foreigner," "Okay for the first time," or "Okay, you passed"?
Still not 100% sure if I passed, I looked back at the instructor, said something like, "Okay? Really?" and breathed a big sigh of relief.
I passed! I passed! I passed! Yatta!
For the most part, I contained my emotion. Nevertheless, my delight was more than clear to everyone in the licensing center.
One guy in particular, who I had seen the day before while I was taking my lessons, actually wondered aloud what the big fuss was all about:
"What did you expect? Of course you passed. You took those lessons yesterday."
See what I mean. Kiss ass and ye shall pass.
Monday, June 9, 2008
The Moment of Truth Has Come
One of the last steps before the actual driving test was to take a 10-question written test. The test was in both Japanese and English. Despite the poor English translations, the questions were pretty straightforward and, even though I have no idea what my score was, I passed. (A passing score is 7 out of 10.)
The final step before the driving test was a vision test, which I also passed easily.
(What's funny about the Japanese vision test is that all the letters you see are the letter "C." So rather than saying which letter you see, you have to tell the examiner which direction the "opening" of the "C" is facing. A couple of months ago at school when the students' eyesight was being examined, I covered one of my eyes, pretended to be taking the test, and said, "C, C, C, C, C, C...")
Finally, the moment of truth was at hand. Normally, from what I heard about the test, you find out about an hour before your test whether you'll be driving Course A or Course B. I found out about 5 minutes before the test, probably due to the delay regarding that infamous certification form.
Nevertheless, I had gone over both courses in my head several times and was confident that I would remember the route I had to drive. And as soon as I found out I was driving Course B, I deleted Course A from my memory banks.
The course starts next to a small waiting room. Rather than head over to the waiting room as I was instructed to do, I decided to relax for a couple minutes just outside of that waiting room. At some point, I looked over at the waiting room and noticed about five guys inside the room stand up and face toward one of the walls that was out of my view. "Oh, crap," I thought to myself. "Those guys must be greeting the driving instructor. I'm late for my own driving test! This won't be good."
So I crept over to the room, stood at attention like the other guys, and hoped for mercy.
After a few seconds, I looked outside and saw a huge bulldozer parked at the starting area. Oops. "Falscher Film," as the Germans would say. (Wrong movie.)
What a relief!
A moment later, a white four-door automobile pulled up.
The instructor got out and came over to the waiting room. I tried to size him up quickly, since Taura-san had told me that some of the instructors were rather nice, while others were fairly strict. My guy looked like he was all business, so I tried to act as serious as possible.
The instructor asked me if I understood Japanese and if I had practiced for the test, and then he briefed me for about a minute. I didn't understand everything he said, but I understood enough to know that my test was about to begin.
The final step before the driving test was a vision test, which I also passed easily.
(What's funny about the Japanese vision test is that all the letters you see are the letter "C." So rather than saying which letter you see, you have to tell the examiner which direction the "opening" of the "C" is facing. A couple of months ago at school when the students' eyesight was being examined, I covered one of my eyes, pretended to be taking the test, and said, "C, C, C, C, C, C...")
Finally, the moment of truth was at hand. Normally, from what I heard about the test, you find out about an hour before your test whether you'll be driving Course A or Course B. I found out about 5 minutes before the test, probably due to the delay regarding that infamous certification form.
Nevertheless, I had gone over both courses in my head several times and was confident that I would remember the route I had to drive. And as soon as I found out I was driving Course B, I deleted Course A from my memory banks.
The course starts next to a small waiting room. Rather than head over to the waiting room as I was instructed to do, I decided to relax for a couple minutes just outside of that waiting room. At some point, I looked over at the waiting room and noticed about five guys inside the room stand up and face toward one of the walls that was out of my view. "Oh, crap," I thought to myself. "Those guys must be greeting the driving instructor. I'm late for my own driving test! This won't be good."
So I crept over to the room, stood at attention like the other guys, and hoped for mercy.
After a few seconds, I looked outside and saw a huge bulldozer parked at the starting area. Oops. "Falscher Film," as the Germans would say. (Wrong movie.)
What a relief!
A moment later, a white four-door automobile pulled up.
The instructor got out and came over to the waiting room. I tried to size him up quickly, since Taura-san had told me that some of the instructors were rather nice, while others were fairly strict. My guy looked like he was all business, so I tried to act as serious as possible.
The instructor asked me if I understood Japanese and if I had practiced for the test, and then he briefed me for about a minute. I didn't understand everything he said, but I understood enough to know that my test was about to begin.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Certification of my Certification
The day after my driving lessons, I returned to the licensing center to take my driving test.
The first thing I had to do, however, was take care of more paperwork. The most ridiculous part of that process involved the one additional piece of paper that I needed to bring to Ms. Kai since having gone through the paperwork check on the previous Friday: A Certification of Completion of Alien Registration from my town hall.
Is that a joke or what?
I mean, how the heck did I get my alien registration card in the first place if I never completed the registration process?
Furthermore, my alien registration card, which I applied for and picked up at my town hall, for crying out loud, includes my digital signature as well as various holograms, so it would be pretty difficult to forge. In contrast, the certification form I needed was just a piece of paper with a bit of information and a red-ink seal on it. You can't tell me that that piece of paper is more valuable than my alien registration card. But it is! (I kept waiting for someone to tell me that I then needed a certification form for the certification form.)
When I gave the form to Ms. Kai, I was shocked by her reaction. You see, Ms. Kai forgot to tell me that the certification letter I needed had to be dated within the past six months. Since my form was dated in October, she said she couldn't accept it.
Huh? Say what? Pardon me? One more please?
(See how nerve-racking such a harmless endeavor as getting a driver's license can become?)
You can imagine how upset I was at that point.
Inside of me, a little voice was yelling:
"You bleeping bleep bleep! Why the bleep didn't you tell me about the bleeping date on the bleeping form? And who gives a bleep about the stupid bleeping form, anyway? What the bleep is the matter with you people?"
Good thing I didn't actually let that voice have an audience.
Instead, I used an approach that was similar to the one I had when I was taking my driving lessons: I basically begged, ever so slightly, for forgiveness. Unsure how to proceed, Ms. Kai left me momentarily to consult with her colleagues and/or supervisor(s).
When she returned a few minutes later, a police officer was with her. I figured that meant he was going to explain to me that a rule was a rule. Because of my limited understanding of Japanese, that's what I really thought was going on at first.
But the more the two of them talked, the more I realized they were telling me that it would be okay for me to take the driving test, after all, as long as I agreed to send in an updated form upon returning home, assuming I'd pass my test. Hooray!
I was creeping closer and closer to obtaining my license.
The first thing I had to do, however, was take care of more paperwork. The most ridiculous part of that process involved the one additional piece of paper that I needed to bring to Ms. Kai since having gone through the paperwork check on the previous Friday: A Certification of Completion of Alien Registration from my town hall.
Is that a joke or what?
I mean, how the heck did I get my alien registration card in the first place if I never completed the registration process?
Furthermore, my alien registration card, which I applied for and picked up at my town hall, for crying out loud, includes my digital signature as well as various holograms, so it would be pretty difficult to forge. In contrast, the certification form I needed was just a piece of paper with a bit of information and a red-ink seal on it. You can't tell me that that piece of paper is more valuable than my alien registration card. But it is! (I kept waiting for someone to tell me that I then needed a certification form for the certification form.)
When I gave the form to Ms. Kai, I was shocked by her reaction. You see, Ms. Kai forgot to tell me that the certification letter I needed had to be dated within the past six months. Since my form was dated in October, she said she couldn't accept it.
Huh? Say what? Pardon me? One more please?
(See how nerve-racking such a harmless endeavor as getting a driver's license can become?)
You can imagine how upset I was at that point.
Inside of me, a little voice was yelling:
"You bleeping bleep bleep! Why the bleep didn't you tell me about the bleeping date on the bleeping form? And who gives a bleep about the stupid bleeping form, anyway? What the bleep is the matter with you people?"
Good thing I didn't actually let that voice have an audience.
Instead, I used an approach that was similar to the one I had when I was taking my driving lessons: I basically begged, ever so slightly, for forgiveness. Unsure how to proceed, Ms. Kai left me momentarily to consult with her colleagues and/or supervisor(s).
When she returned a few minutes later, a police officer was with her. I figured that meant he was going to explain to me that a rule was a rule. Because of my limited understanding of Japanese, that's what I really thought was going on at first.
But the more the two of them talked, the more I realized they were telling me that it would be okay for me to take the driving test, after all, as long as I agreed to send in an updated form upon returning home, assuming I'd pass my test. Hooray!
I was creeping closer and closer to obtaining my license.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Driving Lessons, Japanese Style!
After successfully getting past the paperwork check stage, the next step for me toward getting my Japanese driver's license was to take driving lessons.
Since I've been driving on and off for about the past 25 years, the idea of taking driving lessons initially seemed a little absurd to me. But considering what the Japanese driving test entails, I decided that paying $65 each for two hours of driving lessons was a wise move.
I did a bit of research and found the names of two driving instructors in Miyazaki City who gave private lessons. I chose Taura-san over Hirabara-san simply because I got a good vibe when I read about him.
It turns out that I made a great decision.
Taura-san was a short guy with a bubbly personality. (I've got to meet him again some day so I can add his picture here). Even the way he laughed was kind of cute. The guy was so relaxed throughout the lessons that he put me completely at ease, too. And the guy was a master of his craft, putting my driving skills to shame.
Granted, we were practicing on a closed course that Taura-san must have driven on thousands of times. Furthermore, the speed limit was 40 kmh (25 mph) and there were probably no more than 10 cars on the entire course at any given time. Nevertheless, I had the feeling that Taura-san could have driven around the course with his eyes closed and no one would have ever noticed. Not only that, his composure and demeanor were so perfect, he could have won an Academy Award for Driving Mister Yama. Taura-san was the pro and I was the rookie. And I was determined to learn from him. Fast.
If you try to fight the Japanese system, you'll surely lose. Knowing that, I adopted the following mindset before my lessons began: "Don't ask why. Be humble. And be respectful." Or, in other words: "Kiss ass and ye shall pass."
So when Taura-san told me that before opening the door to get into the car I should look both ways while saying "Migi, okay. Hidari, okay," I did so.
And when he told me to say out loud what I was doing or thinking, such as "I'm putting on my seat belt," "I'm making sure no one is in my blind spot," or "I'm speeding up," I did so, in Japanese no l
ess!
And when he told me to speed up almost immediately after coming out of a turn, even when there was a stop sign or red light only about 100 feet(!) ahead of me, I did so.
And when he told me to hit the brakes, sometimes three times in quick succession, a few seconds after accelerating out of those turns, I did so.
And when he told me to hug the solid white line running along the curb, I did so.
And when he told me to hug the center line, I did so.
And when he told me to put on my "winker" (blinker) way before I planned to turn or change lanes, I did so.
And when he told me to count to three, out loud, while checking my rear-view (or, as the Japanese say, "room") mirror, side mirror, and blind spot, before changing lanes, I did so.
And when he told me to change lanes rapidly, in an "s" shape, rather than gradually gliding over, I did so.
And when he told me to stop within a foot of the pole at the side of the start/finish area, I did so. (If you don't, you fail the test. No matter how well you drove around the course.)
And when he told me to look both ways before opening the door to exit the v
ehicle, I did so. (Again, if you forget to do that, you automatically fail the test!)
All in the name of passing the test.
I drove two distinct routes around the closed course because the actual driving test I would be taking the following day would be on one of the two routes.
Taura-san told me that I wouldn't have to memorize the courses completely since, when I would be taking the actual test, the instructor would tell me where to turn. But he also told me that it was best to not rely on the instructor's help, because after I made each turn I had to know if I had to hug the left or right side of my lane and I would be on my own as far as that was concerned. And I had to know exactly where to change lanes, since the instructor wouldn't tell me that, either.
As the lessons went on, I kept wondering how memorizing a driving route and driving the way no one drives in reality proved I was a good/safe driver. But I guess that's just the way the Japanese think: If you can master the ritual, you are a success.
After a few of hours of driving practice, I felt that I was as ready for the driving test as I could be. I thanked Taura-san repeatedly, bowed several times, and thanked him again. He smiled, giggled some more, and wished me luck.
Since I've been driving on and off for about the past 25 years, the idea of taking driving lessons initially seemed a little absurd to me. But considering what the Japanese driving test entails, I decided that paying $65 each for two hours of driving lessons was a wise move.
I did a bit of research and found the names of two driving instructors in Miyazaki City who gave private lessons. I chose Taura-san over Hirabara-san simply because I got a good vibe when I read about him.
It turns out that I made a great decision.
Taura-san was a short guy with a bubbly personality. (I've got to meet him again some day so I can add his picture here). Even the way he laughed was kind of cute. The guy was so relaxed throughout the lessons that he put me completely at ease, too. And the guy was a master of his craft, putting my driving skills to shame.
Granted, we were practicing on a closed course that Taura-san must have driven on thousands of times. Furthermore, the speed limit was 40 kmh (25 mph) and there were probably no more than 10 cars on the entire course at any given time. Nevertheless, I had the feeling that Taura-san could have driven around the course with his eyes closed and no one would have ever noticed. Not only that, his composure and demeanor were so perfect, he could have won an Academy Award for Driving Mister Yama. Taura-san was the pro and I was the rookie. And I was determined to learn from him. Fast.
If you try to fight the Japanese system, you'll surely lose. Knowing that, I adopted the following mindset before my lessons began: "Don't ask why. Be humble. And be respectful." Or, in other words: "Kiss ass and ye shall pass."
So when Taura-san told me that before opening the door to get into the car I should look both ways while saying "Migi, okay. Hidari, okay," I did so.
And when he told me to say out loud what I was doing or thinking, such as "I'm putting on my seat belt," "I'm making sure no one is in my blind spot," or "I'm speeding up," I did so, in Japanese no l
ess!And when he told me to speed up almost immediately after coming out of a turn, even when there was a stop sign or red light only about 100 feet(!) ahead of me, I did so.
And when he told me to hit the brakes, sometimes three times in quick succession, a few seconds after accelerating out of those turns, I did so.
And when he told me to hug the solid white line running along the curb, I did so.
And when he told me to hug the center line, I did so.
And when he told me to put on my "winker" (blinker) way before I planned to turn or change lanes, I did so.
And when he told me to count to three, out loud, while checking my rear-view (or, as the Japanese say, "room") mirror, side mirror, and blind spot, before changing lanes, I did so.
And when he told me to change lanes rapidly, in an "s" shape, rather than gradually gliding over, I did so.
And when he told me to stop within a foot of the pole at the side of the start/finish area, I did so. (If you don't, you fail the test. No matter how well you drove around the course.)
And when he told me to look both ways before opening the door to exit the v
ehicle, I did so. (Again, if you forget to do that, you automatically fail the test!)All in the name of passing the test.
I drove two distinct routes around the closed course because the actual driving test I would be taking the following day would be on one of the two routes.
Taura-san told me that I wouldn't have to memorize the courses completely since, when I would be taking the actual test, the instructor would tell me where to turn. But he also told me that it was best to not rely on the instructor's help, because after I made each turn I had to know if I had to hug the left or right side of my lane and I would be on my own as far as that was concerned. And I had to know exactly where to change lanes, since the instructor wouldn't tell me that, either.
As the lessons went on, I kept wondering how memorizing a driving route and driving the way no one drives in reality proved I was a good/safe driver. But I guess that's just the way the Japanese think: If you can master the ritual, you are a success.
After a few of hours of driving practice, I felt that I was as ready for the driving test as I could be. I thanked Taura-san repeatedly, bowed several times, and thanked him again. He smiled, giggled some more, and wished me luck.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Applying for my Japanese Driver's License
According to Japanese law, an American driver's license, in combination with an International Driving Permit, is only valid for one year in Japan. So folks like me who drive and plan to reside in Japan for more than a year eventually have to get a Japanese driver's license. Because my first year over here ends in August and many foreigners supposedly fail the driving test at least once, I decided to get a jump-start on the application process.
The first step was to fork over about 30 bucks to the Japanese Automobile Federation for a translation of my American license. The price seemed a bit steep, since the only information on my American license is a bunch of numbers, such as my address, my date of birth, and the dates of issue and expiration. But the translation was required, so I sent away for it. A few days later, I received the document in the mail.
The next step was to drive to the licensing center so that the proper authority, a Ms. Kai, could look over my documentation to ensure that I was indeed eligible to apply for a Japanese license. I did that on a Friday afternoon, just over a week ago.
I had to bring my passport, alien registration card, American driver's license, and International Driving Permit, as well as, of course, the translation of my driver's license. Unfortunately, I had to drive the three-plus hours to Miyazaki City to take care of this, since that is the only licensing center in the prefecture that handles driver's licenses for Americans.
I figured the process would only take a few minutes, but it took a solid hour. Luckily, Ms. Kai was very kind.
The first question she asked me when I found her was, "Do you have an appointment?" Since I didn't, I thought, "Oh, no! Don't tell me I've come all the way here for nothing!" But it turns out Ms. Kai was at least sort of expecting me. See, my supervisor had talked to her on the phone earlier in the week to find out a bunch of information regarding the whole process I had to go through to get my Japanese license. So when I told her my name, she quickly put two and two together and, lucky for me, told me that she had time to help me. I, in turn, bowed to her a couple times and told her how sorry I was. Believe me, bowing and apologizing goes a long way in Japan.
Anyway, while Ms. Kai looked over my documents, she had me fill out a four-page form filled with questions having to do with how I obtained my American license:
Have you ever had a learner's permit? If so, how long was it good for and when did it expire? Have you ever taken lessons at a driving school? If so, how many hours of lessons did you have? What size engine did the car that you drove when you took your driving test have? Whose vehicle did you use for the driving test? Did you have your driving test on a closed course or on the open road? Did you take a written test as part of the licensing procedure? If so, how many questions were on it, what sort of questions were asked, and how long did you have to complete the test? How much did you pay to get your license? And on and on and on.
Whether or not how I answered any of those questions actually had anything to do with whether or not the Japanese authorities were willing to issue me a Japanese license is beyond me. I simply tried to be as truthful as possible. At the same time, however, I took a bit of poetic license so Ms. Kai wouldn't come to the conclusion that I got my driver's license just by opening up the right box of Cracker Jack.
In the meantime, Ms. Kai went over my documents with a fine-tooth comb, filling in one checklist after another.
The craziest and most nerve-wracking part of the whole process was when she was looking through my passport page by page, trying to piece together where I had been from the time my driver's license was issued until the day I had left the United States for Japan.
Apparently there's a law that states that a holder of an American driver's license who wants to obtain a Japanese license must have been in the United States for a period of at least three months after the license was issued or he or she will have to go through the entire process of obtaining a Japanese license (hours and hours of lessons, countless tests, a lengthy driving test, and so on), rather than the shortened process.
I knew darn well that I met that three-month condition, but I was still sweating bullets watching Ms. Kai create a timeline indicating where I had been over the past few years. I kept waiting for her to say, "Oh, I'm so sorry Yama-san. I see here that you went to Europe recently. Well, Rule 2.1.0.4 clearly states that ..."
I really had no reason to be fearful of such a statement. But you know how it is: The power that bureaucrats hold over you can drive you nuts. Alas, when Ms. Kai was finally finished looking over my documents, she indicated that they were all in order. Whew!
She then went over that other form with me line by line, made sure I understood everything I had filled in (the form was in both Japanese and broken English), and had me sign it on the last page.
Ms. Kai then collected all my paperwork, gave me a checklist of things to bring on Monday, when I planned to take my driving test, and wished me good luck.
So, after a three-hour drive and another hour at the licensing center, I was a little bit closer to getting my Japanese driver's license. Boy was I relieved!
The first step was to fork over about 30 bucks to the Japanese Automobile Federation for a translation of my American license. The price seemed a bit steep, since the only information on my American license is a bunch of numbers, such as my address, my date of birth, and the dates of issue and expiration. But the translation was required, so I sent away for it. A few days later, I received the document in the mail.
The next step was to drive to the licensing center so that the proper authority, a Ms. Kai, could look over my documentation to ensure that I was indeed eligible to apply for a Japanese license. I did that on a Friday afternoon, just over a week ago.
I had to bring my passport, alien registration card, American driver's license, and International Driving Permit, as well as, of course, the translation of my driver's license. Unfortunately, I had to drive the three-plus hours to Miyazaki City to take care of this, since that is the only licensing center in the prefecture that handles driver's licenses for Americans.
I figured the process would only take a few minutes, but it took a solid hour. Luckily, Ms. Kai was very kind.
The first question she asked me when I found her was, "Do you have an appointment?" Since I didn't, I thought, "Oh, no! Don't tell me I've come all the way here for nothing!" But it turns out Ms. Kai was at least sort of expecting me. See, my supervisor had talked to her on the phone earlier in the week to find out a bunch of information regarding the whole process I had to go through to get my Japanese license. So when I told her my name, she quickly put two and two together and, lucky for me, told me that she had time to help me. I, in turn, bowed to her a couple times and told her how sorry I was. Believe me, bowing and apologizing goes a long way in Japan.
Anyway, while Ms. Kai looked over my documents, she had me fill out a four-page form filled with questions having to do with how I obtained my American license:
Have you ever had a learner's permit? If so, how long was it good for and when did it expire? Have you ever taken lessons at a driving school? If so, how many hours of lessons did you have? What size engine did the car that you drove when you took your driving test have? Whose vehicle did you use for the driving test? Did you have your driving test on a closed course or on the open road? Did you take a written test as part of the licensing procedure? If so, how many questions were on it, what sort of questions were asked, and how long did you have to complete the test? How much did you pay to get your license? And on and on and on.
Whether or not how I answered any of those questions actually had anything to do with whether or not the Japanese authorities were willing to issue me a Japanese license is beyond me. I simply tried to be as truthful as possible. At the same time, however, I took a bit of poetic license so Ms. Kai wouldn't come to the conclusion that I got my driver's license just by opening up the right box of Cracker Jack.
In the meantime, Ms. Kai went over my documents with a fine-tooth comb, filling in one checklist after another.
The craziest and most nerve-wracking part of the whole process was when she was looking through my passport page by page, trying to piece together where I had been from the time my driver's license was issued until the day I had left the United States for Japan.
Apparently there's a law that states that a holder of an American driver's license who wants to obtain a Japanese license must have been in the United States for a period of at least three months after the license was issued or he or she will have to go through the entire process of obtaining a Japanese license (hours and hours of lessons, countless tests, a lengthy driving test, and so on), rather than the shortened process.
I knew darn well that I met that three-month condition, but I was still sweating bullets watching Ms. Kai create a timeline indicating where I had been over the past few years. I kept waiting for her to say, "Oh, I'm so sorry Yama-san. I see here that you went to Europe recently. Well, Rule 2.1.0.4 clearly states that ..."
I really had no reason to be fearful of such a statement. But you know how it is: The power that bureaucrats hold over you can drive you nuts. Alas, when Ms. Kai was finally finished looking over my documents, she indicated that they were all in order. Whew!
She then went over that other form with me line by line, made sure I understood everything I had filled in (the form was in both Japanese and broken English), and had me sign it on the last page.
Ms. Kai then collected all my paperwork, gave me a checklist of things to bring on Monday, when I planned to take my driving test, and wished me good luck.
So, after a three-hour drive and another hour at the licensing center, I was a little bit closer to getting my Japanese driver's license. Boy was I relieved!
Monday, June 2, 2008
Golden Week Photos
During Golden Week, I explored the southern part of Kyushu, from south of Miyazaki City all the way down to southern Kagoshima Prefecture. Below are some photographic highlights of the trip. (By the way, here and throughout my blog, all photos are clickable.)
My first stop on the trip was to get a close-up of the "Devil's Washboard" near Nichinan, an aptly-named, bizarre jagged rock formation that stretches along the coast.
The "Devil's Washboard" as seen from above.
A picture of a lantern at the beautiful Udo Shrine.
A woman taking aim at the shrine's "good-luck" target. Adding to the challenge, women are supposed to throw the pebbles with the right arm, and men are supposed to throw with the left arm.
The clay pebbles one throws at the target, on sale at 5 for 100 yen, are inscribed with the kanji for "luck." I'm proud to say that my very first shot landed with a "plop" smack dab in the middle of the pool of water. As did my second shot. My third shot missed the water but stayed within the rope circle, so that counts for something, too. My fourth shot made the water again. My fifth and final shot missed the water, but I'm pretty sure it stayed within the rope circle. (I couldn't quite keep track of it since a couple other pebbles landed about the same time.) I didn't wish for anything specific, but, yes, Harry, I do feel lucky!
The May 5 Golden Week holiday is called "kodomo no hi," or Children's Day. As early as April, people begin to fly carp-shaped kites in anticipation of the holiday. Sometimes, you see tens of kites strung together, whereas other times you see just three kites, symbolizing the father, the mother, and the children, top to bottom, flying together. (This is another example of how men and women are not considered equal in Japan.)
Nice vegetation.
Taking my first dip of the year in the ocean. The water was nice and refreshing!
One of the seven "samurai" gardens in Chiran, Kagoshima Prefecture. These small gardens are located on property where samurai used to live. Each of the gardens has several symbolic features, including a "waterless" waterfall. See it? What I want to know is, since there were exactly seven gardens, was each
one for one of the seven samurai in Kurosawa's movie?
I finally got to see Mt. Fuji. Or so I thought. That's actually Kaimon-dake, a Fuji replica near the southernmost tip of Kagoshima Prefecture. As a joke, I said something like, "Wow, Fuji-san," while I was looking at the mountain. My whimsical observation led to a conversation with a gentleman and his family. I think he said he worked for the mayor of a local town. I thought he might invite me to join him for dinner or something, but after a few minutes we each went our own way. Meeting them took me back to some of the stories I read in Hitching Rides with Buddha. Had I not had a car, I certainly would have asked them for a ride.
Another view of the "other" Fuji, proving that it's not the real deal, since it's on the edge of the water.
More beautiful vegetation.
As one ferry pulls in to Kagoshima City, I head out on another ferry to Sakurajima, the "island" across the bay that is home to an active (and I mean active) volcano. The weather wasn't ideal for sightseeing, but I was running out of days, so off I went. Look carefully and you can see five carp kites flying from atop the ferry. The roughly 20-minute ride cost 1070 yen for my size, i.e., length car. Additional passengers, as well as "walkers," pay 150 yen each.
A hiking path takes you past countless volcanic rocks along the shore.
I saw lots of people climbing on the rocks near the water's edge. In order to find out what they were searching for, I struck up a conversation with some (retired?) ladies who were on their way down toward the water. They told me that they were collecting seaweed, and that others were gathering "hijiki," a sea vegetable that you may recall from this blog. As the ladies were cutting the seaweed off the rocks, they were telling me how delicious and healthy it was, when prepared properly, that is. They had come from Miyakonojo, about 65 kilometers away, to haul in their booty.
I passed on the seaweed but took home some souvenirs of my own in the form of "fresh" pumice. You can't really tell by looking at this picture, but a bunch of those smaller rocks are indeed pumice. So if you have rough skin, this is the place to come.
If you don't feel like searching for the pumice yourself, you can purchase bags of the rocks at the gift shop for cheap.
I suspect this is a "lava road," built to provide a clear path for the hot stuff to flow directly to the water, rather than destroying part of the island on its way.
You'll have to take my word for it: That's the cone of the volcano in the background, lost among the rainclouds. If I remember correctly, as of the day I visited Sakurajima, the volcano had already erupted 25 times or so in 2008, including about 17 eruptions in March alone. Seeing some pictures of a few of those eruptions made me wonder why the heck anyone would want to live so close to a real live ash-spewing volcano. As much as half of me would have loved to have witnessed the old lady blow her top, the other half of me was hoping that she would stay in bed. I'm glad she listened to my wiser half.
The Japanese Navy obviously doesn't have many enemies or you wouldn't be able to practically touch one of the fleet's ships as it prepares to set sail from the Kagoshima port.
The last place I went on the trip was Aya, back in Miyazaki Prefecture, home to one of the world's longest pedestrian suspension bridges, among other sights. It's 250 meters long and 142 meters high. Good thing I'm not afraid of heights.
After I crossed the bridge, I noticed a sign pointing the way uphill to a shrine. So I climbed up the path and found this little gem, essentially tucked away in the middle of the forest.
My first stop on the trip was to get a close-up of the "Devil's Washboard" near Nichinan, an aptly-named, bizarre jagged rock formation that stretches along the coast.
The "Devil's Washboard" as seen from above.
A picture of a lantern at the beautiful Udo Shrine.
A woman taking aim at the shrine's "good-luck" target. Adding to the challenge, women are supposed to throw the pebbles with the right arm, and men are supposed to throw with the left arm.
The clay pebbles one throws at the target, on sale at 5 for 100 yen, are inscribed with the kanji for "luck." I'm proud to say that my very first shot landed with a "plop" smack dab in the middle of the pool of water. As did my second shot. My third shot missed the water but stayed within the rope circle, so that counts for something, too. My fourth shot made the water again. My fifth and final shot missed the water, but I'm pretty sure it stayed within the rope circle. (I couldn't quite keep track of it since a couple other pebbles landed about the same time.) I didn't wish for anything specific, but, yes, Harry, I do feel lucky!
The May 5 Golden Week holiday is called "kodomo no hi," or Children's Day. As early as April, people begin to fly carp-shaped kites in anticipation of the holiday. Sometimes, you see tens of kites strung together, whereas other times you see just three kites, symbolizing the father, the mother, and the children, top to bottom, flying together. (This is another example of how men and women are not considered equal in Japan.)
Nice vegetation.
Taking my first dip of the year in the ocean. The water was nice and refreshing!
One of the seven "samurai" gardens in Chiran, Kagoshima Prefecture. These small gardens are located on property where samurai used to live. Each of the gardens has several symbolic features, including a "waterless" waterfall. See it? What I want to know is, since there were exactly seven gardens, was each
one for one of the seven samurai in Kurosawa's movie?I finally got to see Mt. Fuji. Or so I thought. That's actually Kaimon-dake, a Fuji replica near the southernmost tip of Kagoshima Prefecture. As a joke, I said something like, "Wow, Fuji-san," while I was looking at the mountain. My whimsical observation led to a conversation with a gentleman and his family. I think he said he worked for the mayor of a local town. I thought he might invite me to join him for dinner or something, but after a few minutes we each went our own way. Meeting them took me back to some of the stories I read in Hitching Rides with Buddha. Had I not had a car, I certainly would have asked them for a ride.
Another view of the "other" Fuji, proving that it's not the real deal, since it's on the edge of the water.
More beautiful vegetation.
As one ferry pulls in to Kagoshima City, I head out on another ferry to Sakurajima, the "island" across the bay that is home to an active (and I mean active) volcano. The weather wasn't ideal for sightseeing, but I was running out of days, so off I went. Look carefully and you can see five carp kites flying from atop the ferry. The roughly 20-minute ride cost 1070 yen for my size, i.e., length car. Additional passengers, as well as "walkers," pay 150 yen each.
A hiking path takes you past countless volcanic rocks along the shore.
I saw lots of people climbing on the rocks near the water's edge. In order to find out what they were searching for, I struck up a conversation with some (retired?) ladies who were on their way down toward the water. They told me that they were collecting seaweed, and that others were gathering "hijiki," a sea vegetable that you may recall from this blog. As the ladies were cutting the seaweed off the rocks, they were telling me how delicious and healthy it was, when prepared properly, that is. They had come from Miyakonojo, about 65 kilometers away, to haul in their booty.
I passed on the seaweed but took home some souvenirs of my own in the form of "fresh" pumice. You can't really tell by looking at this picture, but a bunch of those smaller rocks are indeed pumice. So if you have rough skin, this is the place to come.
If you don't feel like searching for the pumice yourself, you can purchase bags of the rocks at the gift shop for cheap.
I suspect this is a "lava road," built to provide a clear path for the hot stuff to flow directly to the water, rather than destroying part of the island on its way.
You'll have to take my word for it: That's the cone of the volcano in the background, lost among the rainclouds. If I remember correctly, as of the day I visited Sakurajima, the volcano had already erupted 25 times or so in 2008, including about 17 eruptions in March alone. Seeing some pictures of a few of those eruptions made me wonder why the heck anyone would want to live so close to a real live ash-spewing volcano. As much as half of me would have loved to have witnessed the old lady blow her top, the other half of me was hoping that she would stay in bed. I'm glad she listened to my wiser half.
The Japanese Navy obviously doesn't have many enemies or you wouldn't be able to practically touch one of the fleet's ships as it prepares to set sail from the Kagoshima port.
The last place I went on the trip was Aya, back in Miyazaki Prefecture, home to one of the world's longest pedestrian suspension bridges, among other sights. It's 250 meters long and 142 meters high. Good thing I'm not afraid of heights.
After I crossed the bridge, I noticed a sign pointing the way uphill to a shrine. So I climbed up the path and found this little gem, essentially tucked away in the middle of the forest.
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