Monday, December 15, 2008
Check out this Video
Check out this CNN video about Japanese fathers rarely seeing their children because they spend so much time at work.
Running with the Kids
On Friday, I participated in a 4.5 km race against 45 of my school's junior-high-school boys. Yeah, that's right: Old Man Yama running against a bunch of 12- to 15-year-olds. (This isn't the first time. Remember the mini-triathlon?)
I ran in the race last year, too, and ended up with a time of 19:58, which was good enough for a respectable sixth place, even though I crossed the finish line a good 1:33 behind the winner.
This year, I planned to run faster and finish at least one place higher. Well, things worked out just fine.
Just like last year, I got off to a slow start. Going around the first lap, I found myself trailing around 25 runners. Despite the fact that no one had taken a clear lead, I wondered if it maybe wasn't my day, especially since some kids were even passing me. (Last year's start was even worse, as I saw a few runners take off in such a hurry that
they easily distanced themselves from the pack and left me with no hope of winning. Furthermore, since so many runners were out of sight that time, I never knew what position I was in until after I finished the race.) But as the race progressed, many of the runners who were ahead of me ran into a wall, whereas I was able to maintain my pace.
Luckily, I was able to keep my eyes on all of the runners in front of me, so I quickly counted bodies and realized that I had managed to move up to 15th place about a third of the way through the race. Then I began to pick off the remaining guys who were in front of me one by one until I was in 8th place. That's when I knew I had a chance to finish better than 6th, so I kept pushing myself to keep the pace going.
With a little more than 1 km to go, I finally made it into 5th place, passing last year's third-place finisher. (I expected him to compete for the title, especially since he told me he that his goal was a top-three finish.) And on the final lap, I even had two more guys in my sights for quite some time. But I just didn't have enough gas left in the tank to pass them.
So how did I do?
Well, I finished in 5th place with an official time of 18:23, which is a big improvement over last year and two seconds faster than last year's winning time! Oh, and believe me, when I see last year's winner later today, I'm going to rub that in! You see, my unofficial time had me finishing with the exact same time as he ran last year. (He ran in a different race this year.) So after the race, he was giving me a hard time about the fact that I was this close to beating him but didn't. So I'll get the last laugh now!
I am a bit bummed that beating last year's winning time only moved me one step up the ladder. But this time I only finished 28 seconds off the lead, even with the school's second-fastest student in the race. (Yes, he won.) So, yeah, overall I'm very pleased with the results!
I must say, howe
ver, that last year's race-day temperature was probably about 35, whereas this year's temperature was closer to 50. So obviously that is one explanation for the faster times run this year. But I'm also in better shape now than I was a year ago. And once again I was able to push myself in competition, which is very satisfying.
One crazy thing about the day's events (there was a total of four races) was that there was no food or drinks on hand for the participants until afterward (when a bunch of the parents served some food and a red-bean soup called zenzai). I just don't understand how you can have a bunch of people exercising and not have water and bananas for everyone, for instance. (Actually, there was a water fountain, come to think of it. But if you ask me, that's not good enough.) I remembered that from last year, however, so I had plenty of my own supplies. But the poor kids. None of them seemed particularly thirsty or hungry, but fuel is important. Then again, as I've mentioned plenty of times before, the Japanese seem to like to suffer.
One more crazy thing: After the races, there was very limited support for the kids who were in obvious discomfort (probably because they pushed themselves well beyond their limit or they were severely dehydrated). Although I don't believe any of the kids got hurt, I found the lack of first-aid rather alarming.
Anyway, I'm happy that I was allowed to participate in the race and I'm already looking forward to my next athletic challenge, the road relay race in February. Ganbarimashou!
I ran in the race last year, too, and ended up with a time of 19:58, which was good enough for a respectable sixth place, even though I crossed the finish line a good 1:33 behind the winner.
This year, I planned to run faster and finish at least one place higher. Well, things worked out just fine.
Just like last year, I got off to a slow start. Going around the first lap, I found myself trailing around 25 runners. Despite the fact that no one had taken a clear lead, I wondered if it maybe wasn't my day, especially since some kids were even passing me. (Last year's start was even worse, as I saw a few runners take off in such a hurry that
they easily distanced themselves from the pack and left me with no hope of winning. Furthermore, since so many runners were out of sight that time, I never knew what position I was in until after I finished the race.) But as the race progressed, many of the runners who were ahead of me ran into a wall, whereas I was able to maintain my pace.Luckily, I was able to keep my eyes on all of the runners in front of me, so I quickly counted bodies and realized that I had managed to move up to 15th place about a third of the way through the race. Then I began to pick off the remaining guys who were in front of me one by one until I was in 8th place. That's when I knew I had a chance to finish better than 6th, so I kept pushing myself to keep the pace going.
With a little more than 1 km to go, I finally made it into 5th place, passing last year's third-place finisher. (I expected him to compete for the title, especially since he told me he that his goal was a top-three finish.) And on the final lap, I even had two more guys in my sights for quite some time. But I just didn't have enough gas left in the tank to pass them.
So how did I do?
Well, I finished in 5th place with an official time of 18:23, which is a big improvement over last year and two seconds faster than last year's winning time! Oh, and believe me, when I see last year's winner later today, I'm going to rub that in! You see, my unofficial time had me finishing with the exact same time as he ran last year. (He ran in a different race this year.) So after the race, he was giving me a hard time about the fact that I was this close to beating him but didn't. So I'll get the last laugh now!
I am a bit bummed that beating last year's winning time only moved me one step up the ladder. But this time I only finished 28 seconds off the lead, even with the school's second-fastest student in the race. (Yes, he won.) So, yeah, overall I'm very pleased with the results!
I must say, howe
ver, that last year's race-day temperature was probably about 35, whereas this year's temperature was closer to 50. So obviously that is one explanation for the faster times run this year. But I'm also in better shape now than I was a year ago. And once again I was able to push myself in competition, which is very satisfying.One crazy thing about the day's events (there was a total of four races) was that there was no food or drinks on hand for the participants until afterward (when a bunch of the parents served some food and a red-bean soup called zenzai). I just don't understand how you can have a bunch of people exercising and not have water and bananas for everyone, for instance. (Actually, there was a water fountain, come to think of it. But if you ask me, that's not good enough.) I remembered that from last year, however, so I had plenty of my own supplies. But the poor kids. None of them seemed particularly thirsty or hungry, but fuel is important. Then again, as I've mentioned plenty of times before, the Japanese seem to like to suffer.
One more crazy thing: After the races, there was very limited support for the kids who were in obvious discomfort (probably because they pushed themselves well beyond their limit or they were severely dehydrated). Although I don't believe any of the kids got hurt, I found the lack of first-aid rather alarming.
Anyway, I'm happy that I was allowed to participate in the race and I'm already looking forward to my next athletic challenge, the road relay race in February. Ganbarimashou!
Monday, December 8, 2008
This is No Way to Live!
(This wasn't exactly what I wanted to post first after my long hiatus, but this topic has been burning inside me and just had to come out. So here it is. Sumimasen.)
If I'm upsetting you by writing this, well, my apologies. Don't take it personally.
What I have to say is this: Japan, or at least my(!) Japan, is an utterly ridiculous place at times. Especially in the winter. Especially now.
Here's an example of what I'm talking about:
When I arrived at school today, I was in pretty good spirits. But as soon as entered the building, my mood changed for the worse. Why? Because the first thing I noticed was how cold everyone was. Students were shivering, teachers were sucking in air (as if that would help them warm up), and several people mentioned how cold it was. And then, when I entered the teachers' room, I saw a few teachers huddled around the pathetic little heaters we have. And I also noticed that a few teachers were either wearing or in the process of putting on heavy jackets.
This is no way to live.
Let me repeat that, with a little more gusto: This is no way to live!
If you've been following my blog, you already know that I walk to school, and that just about every other teacher at my school does not. And, well, seeing as it's winter, I can assure you, I am positively the lone walker these days. Because all the other teachers think it's too cold to walk to school.
Well, folks, let me clue you in: Walking is a form of exercise. Not only is it good for you, it warms your body up. So when you arrive at school, you're actually taking layers off, not putting them on. And while everyone else is bitching about how cold it is, you're feeling your natural body heat in action. Granted, that warmth goes away rather quickly on colder
days, but it's certainly a reminder that, if you're cold, there are several things you can do to warm up.
So let me list some of them, for all of my fellow comrades out there who haven't discovered the ways:
1) Motion. As the ol' physics saying goes, bodies in motion tend to stay ... warm.
2) Hat. A great deal of your body heat escapes through your noggin. Trap that heat by wearing a hat.
3) Gloves. Even those cut-off variety of gloves are useful, since they let you use your fingers (to type blogs, for instance) and also help to keep your hands at least semi-warm.
4) Layers. Look, it's winter. It's cold. Stop worrying about looking "professional" in your suit and tie and puts some more friggin' layers on. You'll feel much better. For instance, you could put on an extra T-shirt underneath your dress shirt. And how about adding a sweater? Or two. And a jacket. Or two. Come on, don't be shy!
5) Shoes. I've made the remarkable discovery that shoes keep your feet much warmer than beach sandals do. (Why didn't I realize that last year?)
6) Heater. It's amazing how much warmer a room can get if it's heated up. Duh!
7) Doors. Keep the doors closed and the building will stay warmer. A rocket scientist told me that and I believe him. (Pardon me while take a break and mosie on down the halls to do just that: close some doors... I'm back. Doors closed count: Three.)
(For those who can't remember my seven tips, here's a mnemonic: MHGLSHD. What does that stand for? Beats me! I think I need to buy some vowels.)
The problem with my tips is that most of them don't apply to the students. Their uniforms are simply way to skimpy for cold winters. For instance, from what I can tell, the poor bastards aren't allowed to wear hats, gloves (although I occasionally see a student or two wearing cut-off gloves), or coats (they are allowed to wear their coats in the hallways but not in the classrooms). And the only real addition to their uniform in the winter is a sweater and sport coat, both of which are rather flimsy. And they wear the same indoor slippers all year long. And they love to leave the sliding doors open when shuffling from class to class.
I often feel guilty walking around the school in my jacket(s), and even wearing one in class, especially when I see the kids obviously suffering from the cold, sometimes feebly trying to at least keep a bit warm by draping a big towel or small blanket or even their jacket around their legs. But why should I suffer just because the kids have to? I'm telling you, it's a crime that the kids' winter uniforms aren't designed to keep them warm. A crime!
By the way, today is December 8th. Which means, according to last year's schedule, this should only be the eighth day that we have had heat in the building. But this year, something remarkable happened. The heaters appeared on November 19th, nearly two weeks early!
"How the heck did that happen?" you ask? Well, it was pretty cold that morning and we saw our first snow, or rather sprinkling of snow, that day. And it was noticeably colder in the building than the previous few days. So I guess someone decided enough was enough.
I'm not sure who made the decision to bust out the heaters, but I think it was the new vice-principal (the one who arrived in April), because it was he who made an announcement using the intercom at around 12:15 p.m. I had no idea what he said, but before I knew it, a horde of students came pouring into the library, took the heaters out of storage, and immediately distributed them to the classrooms and offices.
What a difference a year makes. If you remember, last year the process of getting out the heat was slow and painful. This year it was instantaneous. Bam(!) and the heat was on! Well, thank goodness for that. It blows my mind that someone actually showed at least a tiny bit of reason this time regarding the use of heaters.
Now if I can only convince them to make the rest of the changes that are needed around here to make this place livable. Good luck to me with that!
If I'm upsetting you by writing this, well, my apologies. Don't take it personally.
What I have to say is this: Japan, or at least my(!) Japan, is an utterly ridiculous place at times. Especially in the winter. Especially now.
Here's an example of what I'm talking about:
When I arrived at school today, I was in pretty good spirits. But as soon as entered the building, my mood changed for the worse. Why? Because the first thing I noticed was how cold everyone was. Students were shivering, teachers were sucking in air (as if that would help them warm up), and several people mentioned how cold it was. And then, when I entered the teachers' room, I saw a few teachers huddled around the pathetic little heaters we have. And I also noticed that a few teachers were either wearing or in the process of putting on heavy jackets.
This is no way to live.
Let me repeat that, with a little more gusto: This is no way to live!
If you've been following my blog, you already know that I walk to school, and that just about every other teacher at my school does not. And, well, seeing as it's winter, I can assure you, I am positively the lone walker these days. Because all the other teachers think it's too cold to walk to school.
Well, folks, let me clue you in: Walking is a form of exercise. Not only is it good for you, it warms your body up. So when you arrive at school, you're actually taking layers off, not putting them on. And while everyone else is bitching about how cold it is, you're feeling your natural body heat in action. Granted, that warmth goes away rather quickly on colder
days, but it's certainly a reminder that, if you're cold, there are several things you can do to warm up.So let me list some of them, for all of my fellow comrades out there who haven't discovered the ways:
1) Motion. As the ol' physics saying goes, bodies in motion tend to stay ... warm.
2) Hat. A great deal of your body heat escapes through your noggin. Trap that heat by wearing a hat.
3) Gloves. Even those cut-off variety of gloves are useful, since they let you use your fingers (to type blogs, for instance) and also help to keep your hands at least semi-warm.
4) Layers. Look, it's winter. It's cold. Stop worrying about looking "professional" in your suit and tie and puts some more friggin' layers on. You'll feel much better. For instance, you could put on an extra T-shirt underneath your dress shirt. And how about adding a sweater? Or two. And a jacket. Or two. Come on, don't be shy!
5) Shoes. I've made the remarkable discovery that shoes keep your feet much warmer than beach sandals do. (Why didn't I realize that last year?)
6) Heater. It's amazing how much warmer a room can get if it's heated up. Duh!
7) Doors. Keep the doors closed and the building will stay warmer. A rocket scientist told me that and I believe him. (Pardon me while take a break and mosie on down the halls to do just that: close some doors... I'm back. Doors closed count: Three.)
(For those who can't remember my seven tips, here's a mnemonic: MHGLSHD. What does that stand for? Beats me! I think I need to buy some vowels.)
The problem with my tips is that most of them don't apply to the students. Their uniforms are simply way to skimpy for cold winters. For instance, from what I can tell, the poor bastards aren't allowed to wear hats, gloves (although I occasionally see a student or two wearing cut-off gloves), or coats (they are allowed to wear their coats in the hallways but not in the classrooms). And the only real addition to their uniform in the winter is a sweater and sport coat, both of which are rather flimsy. And they wear the same indoor slippers all year long. And they love to leave the sliding doors open when shuffling from class to class.
I often feel guilty walking around the school in my jacket(s), and even wearing one in class, especially when I see the kids obviously suffering from the cold, sometimes feebly trying to at least keep a bit warm by draping a big towel or small blanket or even their jacket around their legs. But why should I suffer just because the kids have to? I'm telling you, it's a crime that the kids' winter uniforms aren't designed to keep them warm. A crime!
By the way, today is December 8th. Which means, according to last year's schedule, this should only be the eighth day that we have had heat in the building. But this year, something remarkable happened. The heaters appeared on November 19th, nearly two weeks early!
"How the heck did that happen?" you ask? Well, it was pretty cold that morning and we saw our first snow, or rather sprinkling of snow, that day. And it was noticeably colder in the building than the previous few days. So I guess someone decided enough was enough.
I'm not sure who made the decision to bust out the heaters, but I think it was the new vice-principal (the one who arrived in April), because it was he who made an announcement using the intercom at around 12:15 p.m. I had no idea what he said, but before I knew it, a horde of students came pouring into the library, took the heaters out of storage, and immediately distributed them to the classrooms and offices.
What a difference a year makes. If you remember, last year the process of getting out the heat was slow and painful. This year it was instantaneous. Bam(!) and the heat was on! Well, thank goodness for that. It blows my mind that someone actually showed at least a tiny bit of reason this time regarding the use of heaters.
Now if I can only convince them to make the rest of the changes that are needed around here to make this place livable. Good luck to me with that!
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Hawks vs. Marines, Part 2
Now that I was in the seating area, my mission to get a batting practice ball was finally underway!
I hurried over to the left-field bleachers and was happy to see that there was very little competition, i.e., very few other people with gloves. For a couple of seconds, I tried to scout out the area and figure out where the best place to stand would be. But the reality was,
the batters can hit the balls anywhere, so I just parked myself in the front row and started the waiting game.
After about 10 minutes of nothing, a ball finally came my way. But it sailed well over my head and to my left, so there was no chance of me getting it. The weird thing was, nobody was scrambling for it. It was as if none of them cared at all about scooping up the souvenir, or, worse yet, as if everyone was actually trying to avoid the ball, like it was bad luck or something to touch it. And just as I was marveling at the fact that there no scrum battling for the ball, my radar told me that there was another ball on its way. Sure enough, I turned back toward the field and saw a ball heading right at me. Or so I thought. It landed a few rows behind me, basically right in the lap of this guy who was just sitting there with his friend, both of them minding his own business.
And that's when I found out what the restraint was all about.
You know why no one gave a damn about the balls?
Because as soon as the balls landed in the stands, ushers pounced on them and threw them back on the field. So even if I had caught the ball that was a bit out of my reach, an usher would have come over and taken the ball away from me. Heck, they even took balls away from kids who had caught some!
One word: Riiiiiiiiiiiiii-diculous!
(Before we headed to Fukuoka, I even asked my supervisor if I would be able to keep a ball if I got one during batting practice, because, for whatever reason, I was pretty sure I wouldn't get to keep such a ball. I have no idea where I had heard or read that, but that was my understanding. So, naturally, I was happy when my supervisor told me that of course I could keep it. Was something lost in translation yet again?)
So it was time to switch to Plan B. (Always have a Plan B.)
Plan B was to hound the players for balls. I was pretty darn sure that if I could get a player to chuck a ball my way, the ushers wouldn't take it away from me.
That thought was confirmed when a player threw a ball in the direction of a group of kids who were sitting in a special section along the left-field foul line. One of the kids caught the ball on a bounce, and the ushers kept their distance.
So I knew I had a chance for a ball, too. At the same time, I was also kicking myself in the tush for not having a cheap ball in my glove that I could throw back onto the field if I did catch a BP ball. (Next time, I'm bringing one!)
The only players on the field were the visiting Marines, which probably hurt my chances of getting my prize, since they weren't as likely to be fan-friendly as the hometown Hawks. (The Hawks didn't come out of the clubhouse until about 20 minutes before the game started, so the fans had very little time to interact with them before the game. I find that rather odd, but I guess that's just one more weird thing about Japanese baseball.)
But I tried my luck, anyway.
This one guy, Ohmatsu (I had no clue he was the starting left-fielder), was in my area, so I yelled down at him, "Hey, Ohmatsu, let me get a ball, man!" But he just ignored me, as I suspected he would. Over the span of the next 15 minutes or so, just about every time he had a ball in his hand or glove, I yelled something like, "C'mon, Ohmatsu, whaddya say, hook me up with a ball, man!" I even tried softening him up by calling him "O" and even "Big O" at one point, but that didn't matter. And I know he heard me, because one time he even looked up at me. My charm worked on Ohmatsu about as much as it did on the gate-girls!
And then it was Ohmatsu's turn to take BP, so off he went, heading toward home plate.
So I switched targets and started picking on a pitcher who was running slowly back and forth from one foul pole to the other along the warning track beneath me. But he hardly ever came by and never had a ball, anyway, so that strategy was quickly out the door.
I wanted to pick on the guy who was throwing the balls over to the kids every few minutes or so, but he was wearing a jacket so I had no clue what his name was.
Time was running out. It was about 4:50 and I figured BP would probably only last another ten minutes or so. I was slowly losing faith.
I had to choose another target quickly. So I picked on this guy wearing a jersey with the number 107(!) on it. (I spotted another guy with 111. No MLB players in their right mind would ever wear such high numbers,
but in Japan, from what I understand, those triple-digit numbers are often worn by benchwarmers or non-roster players or what not. I'll have to look into that a bit more closely.) His name: Ishinuki.
I had no clue if Ishinuki was a player or a waterboy or what. So I had no clue if he was even allowed to throw a ball to me. But I didn't care at that point. He was wearing a jersey with a name on it, so he was my target. And I was pretty relentless. Just about every time he touched a ball, I tried something.
"Hey, Ishinuki, can I get a ball, please?!"
"Come on, Ishinuki, toss me a ball, buddy!"
"Whaddya say, Ishinuki, right up here, man!"
"Ishinuki, can I please have a ball?"
For several minutes, my man Ishinuki pretty much ignored me.
But then, finally, he looked up at me and gave me the "okay" sign.
Holy crap! Was he really going to come through for me?
Or did he mean, "Okay, enough already."?
I got my answer about a minute later. A batter finally hit a ball to left and Ishinuki fielded it. He then turned to me, saw that I was waiting, and tossed the ball to me.
And I dropped it!
Just kidding! No way would I drop it.
"Thanks, man, thanks a lot!"
I finally had my ball.
When I peaked inside my glove, I expected to see something written on the ball like "Japanese Professional Baseball League" or "Japan Pro Ball" or whatever.
Nope.
Just a plain ol' "Sh," the SoftBank logo. Bummer.
But still, I got my ball. Mission accomplished.
(Next time, I've got to get a foul ball during the game so I can see if those balls are any different.)
I hurried over to the left-field bleachers and was happy to see that there was very little competition, i.e., very few other people with gloves. For a couple of seconds, I tried to scout out the area and figure out where the best place to stand would be. But the reality was,
the batters can hit the balls anywhere, so I just parked myself in the front row and started the waiting game.After about 10 minutes of nothing, a ball finally came my way. But it sailed well over my head and to my left, so there was no chance of me getting it. The weird thing was, nobody was scrambling for it. It was as if none of them cared at all about scooping up the souvenir, or, worse yet, as if everyone was actually trying to avoid the ball, like it was bad luck or something to touch it. And just as I was marveling at the fact that there no scrum battling for the ball, my radar told me that there was another ball on its way. Sure enough, I turned back toward the field and saw a ball heading right at me. Or so I thought. It landed a few rows behind me, basically right in the lap of this guy who was just sitting there with his friend, both of them minding his own business.
And that's when I found out what the restraint was all about.
You know why no one gave a damn about the balls?
Because as soon as the balls landed in the stands, ushers pounced on them and threw them back on the field. So even if I had caught the ball that was a bit out of my reach, an usher would have come over and taken the ball away from me. Heck, they even took balls away from kids who had caught some!
One word: Riiiiiiiiiiiiii-diculous!
(Before we headed to Fukuoka, I even asked my supervisor if I would be able to keep a ball if I got one during batting practice, because, for whatever reason, I was pretty sure I wouldn't get to keep such a ball. I have no idea where I had heard or read that, but that was my understanding. So, naturally, I was happy when my supervisor told me that of course I could keep it. Was something lost in translation yet again?)
So it was time to switch to Plan B. (Always have a Plan B.)
Plan B was to hound the players for balls. I was pretty darn sure that if I could get a player to chuck a ball my way, the ushers wouldn't take it away from me.
That thought was confirmed when a player threw a ball in the direction of a group of kids who were sitting in a special section along the left-field foul line. One of the kids caught the ball on a bounce, and the ushers kept their distance.
So I knew I had a chance for a ball, too. At the same time, I was also kicking myself in the tush for not having a cheap ball in my glove that I could throw back onto the field if I did catch a BP ball. (Next time, I'm bringing one!)The only players on the field were the visiting Marines, which probably hurt my chances of getting my prize, since they weren't as likely to be fan-friendly as the hometown Hawks. (The Hawks didn't come out of the clubhouse until about 20 minutes before the game started, so the fans had very little time to interact with them before the game. I find that rather odd, but I guess that's just one more weird thing about Japanese baseball.)
But I tried my luck, anyway.
This one guy, Ohmatsu (I had no clue he was the starting left-fielder), was in my area, so I yelled down at him, "Hey, Ohmatsu, let me get a ball, man!" But he just ignored me, as I suspected he would. Over the span of the next 15 minutes or so, just about every time he had a ball in his hand or glove, I yelled something like, "C'mon, Ohmatsu, whaddya say, hook me up with a ball, man!" I even tried softening him up by calling him "O" and even "Big O" at one point, but that didn't matter. And I know he heard me, because one time he even looked up at me. My charm worked on Ohmatsu about as much as it did on the gate-girls!
And then it was Ohmatsu's turn to take BP, so off he went, heading toward home plate.
So I switched targets and started picking on a pitcher who was running slowly back and forth from one foul pole to the other along the warning track beneath me. But he hardly ever came by and never had a ball, anyway, so that strategy was quickly out the door.
I wanted to pick on the guy who was throwing the balls over to the kids every few minutes or so, but he was wearing a jacket so I had no clue what his name was.
Time was running out. It was about 4:50 and I figured BP would probably only last another ten minutes or so. I was slowly losing faith.
I had to choose another target quickly. So I picked on this guy wearing a jersey with the number 107(!) on it. (I spotted another guy with 111. No MLB players in their right mind would ever wear such high numbers,
but in Japan, from what I understand, those triple-digit numbers are often worn by benchwarmers or non-roster players or what not. I'll have to look into that a bit more closely.) His name: Ishinuki.I had no clue if Ishinuki was a player or a waterboy or what. So I had no clue if he was even allowed to throw a ball to me. But I didn't care at that point. He was wearing a jersey with a name on it, so he was my target. And I was pretty relentless. Just about every time he touched a ball, I tried something.
"Hey, Ishinuki, can I get a ball, please?!"
"Come on, Ishinuki, toss me a ball, buddy!"
"Whaddya say, Ishinuki, right up here, man!"
"Ishinuki, can I please have a ball?"
For several minutes, my man Ishinuki pretty much ignored me.
But then, finally, he looked up at me and gave me the "okay" sign.
Holy crap! Was he really going to come through for me?
Or did he mean, "Okay, enough already."?
I got my answer about a minute later. A batter finally hit a ball to left and Ishinuki fielded it. He then turned to me, saw that I was waiting, and tossed the ball to me.
And I dropped it!
Just kidding! No way would I drop it.
"Thanks, man, thanks a lot!"
I finally had my ball.
When I peaked inside my glove, I expected to see something written on the ball like "Japanese Professional Baseball League" or "Japan Pro Ball" or whatever.
Nope.
Just a plain ol' "Sh," the SoftBank logo. Bummer.
But still, I got my ball. Mission accomplished.
(Next time, I've got to get a foul ball during the game so I can see if those balls are any different.)
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Batten Down the Hatches
A typhoon is on its way to mainland Japan. According to the current forecast, we should get hit some time on Friday.
The building I live in often loses water pressure, so, even though there's a chance that the problem was fixed a few weeks ago when some work was done on the building, I guess I'll be filling up the tub on Thursday. Since we are located well up into the mountains, relatively far from shore, I can't imagine that any damage that may result around here will be terribly serious. And hopefully, by the time the storm reaches us, if it indeed does, the winds will have died down considerably. Nevertheless, I will do my best to prepare for the worst.
Why? Well, because in 2005, a powerful typhoon rocked this area and damaged the private rail line between Nobeoka and Takachiho to such an extent that it has yet to be rebuilt! That my friends, is nuts!
Oh, and on a related note, our first baseball game of the season has already been postponed twice due to rain and it looks like it'll be postponed for a third time tomorrow. And even if it's not a rainout tomorrow, for some miraculous reason, well, the game that was originally scheduled for tomorrow has been pushed back to Friday. And judging by the weather forecast, you can bet your house that we won't be playing that one. So the rainouts continue.
I swear someone is out to sabotage our games. Starting with the end of our last season, back in May, I think we've now had about six rainouts in a row, if not seven! It's like if you want it to rain, simply schedule a game and you'll be granted your wish.
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Today at lunchtime, I made a big boo-boo. My mistake was going to lunch before looking at the lunch schedule. But I do that almost all the time, so I can't really consider that my mistake. What I guess you could say the real problem was is that I walked out of the cafeteria after I saw what was being served! That was a first, but I was so disheartened, I just knew I had no choice but to do a 180 and get the h
eck out of there. What was the meal, you ask? Rice (no, thanks), soup (edible), beans (no, thanks!), and the usual concoction that includes such ingredients as quail eggs, renkon, konnyaku, odd-tasting potatoes, and other assorted mostly not-so-delicious or nice-looking items (NO, thanks!).
Luckily for me, in such times of emergency, there's always Kajika-no-sato, a restaurant I mentioned in a previous blog. So I set off on my way, jogging at a slow pace so as not to get too sweaty but so that I could still make it to the restaurant, eat, and get back to school in time for the afternoon faculty meeting at 1:35.
And doubly lucky for me, another teacher who was also avoiding today's lunch (he wisely checked the menu!) and also on his way to Kajika picked me up on his way (and drove me back). So I had plenty of time to relax and have a nice, delicious lunch.
And believe me, paying the extra money for real food (I pay a monthly set fee for my lunches here at school, whether or not I eat them) is money well spent!
When I told the teacher about how I had entered the cafeteria and then turned around and left almost immediately, he told me that that was a bad move, that that was rude of me, and that the next time I just have to suck it up, take the food, eat it, and tell everyone how delicious it was.
Of course, he was only being half serious. And then I told him that I didn't mean to offend anyone, but that it offends me that I have to eat that food. Then he just laughed and told me to check out the menu more often before I go to lunch.
I'm just glad that some he has a good sense of humor. But believe me, I've highlighted today's lunch and will be on the lookout for it again so that I won't make the same mistake twice!
The building I live in often loses water pressure, so, even though there's a chance that the problem was fixed a few weeks ago when some work was done on the building, I guess I'll be filling up the tub on Thursday. Since we are located well up into the mountains, relatively far from shore, I can't imagine that any damage that may result around here will be terribly serious. And hopefully, by the time the storm reaches us, if it indeed does, the winds will have died down considerably. Nevertheless, I will do my best to prepare for the worst.
Why? Well, because in 2005, a powerful typhoon rocked this area and damaged the private rail line between Nobeoka and Takachiho to such an extent that it has yet to be rebuilt! That my friends, is nuts!
Oh, and on a related note, our first baseball game of the season has already been postponed twice due to rain and it looks like it'll be postponed for a third time tomorrow. And even if it's not a rainout tomorrow, for some miraculous reason, well, the game that was originally scheduled for tomorrow has been pushed back to Friday. And judging by the weather forecast, you can bet your house that we won't be playing that one. So the rainouts continue.
I swear someone is out to sabotage our games. Starting with the end of our last season, back in May, I think we've now had about six rainouts in a row, if not seven! It's like if you want it to rain, simply schedule a game and you'll be granted your wish.
*************************
Today at lunchtime, I made a big boo-boo. My mistake was going to lunch before looking at the lunch schedule. But I do that almost all the time, so I can't really consider that my mistake. What I guess you could say the real problem was is that I walked out of the cafeteria after I saw what was being served! That was a first, but I was so disheartened, I just knew I had no choice but to do a 180 and get the h
eck out of there. What was the meal, you ask? Rice (no, thanks), soup (edible), beans (no, thanks!), and the usual concoction that includes such ingredients as quail eggs, renkon, konnyaku, odd-tasting potatoes, and other assorted mostly not-so-delicious or nice-looking items (NO, thanks!).Luckily for me, in such times of emergency, there's always Kajika-no-sato, a restaurant I mentioned in a previous blog. So I set off on my way, jogging at a slow pace so as not to get too sweaty but so that I could still make it to the restaurant, eat, and get back to school in time for the afternoon faculty meeting at 1:35.
And doubly lucky for me, another teacher who was also avoiding today's lunch (he wisely checked the menu!) and also on his way to Kajika picked me up on his way (and drove me back). So I had plenty of time to relax and have a nice, delicious lunch.
And believe me, paying the extra money for real food (I pay a monthly set fee for my lunches here at school, whether or not I eat them) is money well spent!
When I told the teacher about how I had entered the cafeteria and then turned around and left almost immediately, he told me that that was a bad move, that that was rude of me, and that the next time I just have to suck it up, take the food, eat it, and tell everyone how delicious it was.
Of course, he was only being half serious. And then I told him that I didn't mean to offend anyone, but that it offends me that I have to eat that food. Then he just laughed and told me to check out the menu more often before I go to lunch.
I'm just glad that some he has a good sense of humor. But believe me, I've highlighted today's lunch and will be on the lookout for it again so that I won't make the same mistake twice!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Hawks vs. Marines, Part 1 (Updated)
Last Saturday, September 6th, Courtney and I went to Fukuoka with the other English teachers at my school, and their families, to see our very first professional baseball game in Japan, featuring the SoftBank Hawks and the visiting Chiba Lotte Marines.
(In case you're wondering, SoftBank is the name of one of the major cell phone providers in Japan, Chiba is southeast of Tokyo, and Lotte is apparently the name of a huge Japanese/South Korean company.)
The game was scheduled to start at 6 p.m., but Courtney and I arrived at the park just after they opened the gates at 4 p.m., since I wanted to watch batting practice and try to get a ball or two. (Everyone in our group made their own way up to Fukuoka.)
But just getting into the dome was more difficult that I could have imagined.
The first problem we encountered was that there were no entrances on street level. So we had to find a staircase to go up. When we finally did get to the upper level, we weren't allowed in at the first entrance we tried. Apparently, it was the entrance reserved exclusively for some sort of "club" members, which I
think means that that must have been the entrance to the bleacher seats, which is home to the massive cheering squads.
So we hurried over to the next-closest entrance and got in line. We only had to wait a few seconds to finally get in the stadium, but what struck me as quite odd, or rather, unbelievable, was the fact that the ticket takers were actually tearing off everyone's ticket stubs!
I was expecting the same high-tech treatment you get at stadiums in the U.S. nowadays, where you just pass your ticket under a bar-code reader and in you go. But, no, here in Japan they do things the old-fashioned way! Go figure! And to think that one of the first things I said to my supervisor when I got my ticket a couple weeks before the game was, "Boy, these tickets sure do look easy to forge." How right I was!
After we were finally inside the Dome, I was anxious to get down to the field so I could start trying to get balls. But that's where we met our next hurdle.
You see, at the entranc
e to every section of the stadium, there is a gate and a "gate-girl" manning it. In order to pass, you have to have a ticket for that particular section. So even though we were somewhere near the left-field bleachers, which was exactly where I wanted to be, we had to march all the way over to our section near third base before we could even see the field! How did I find that out? The hard way!
I walked right up to the first entrance I saw, showed the gate-girl my ticket, and got nowhere. I put up some resistance and gave the girl this look like, "Are you kidding?" But she wouldn't bend. She politely pointed me to my left and said something in Japanese like, "Just a little bit further."
So I tried at the next gate. Rejected again! And at another gate. Rejection! Nothing but rejection.
I was flabbergasted. The thoughts that passed through my brain at that moment were things like: "Don't tell me that when we get down to the seating area, we're going to have to stay in our section. That would be ridiculous! What are these people thinking? That better not be the case. But why else would they not let us in anywhere we wanted? I don't get it."
So I tried yet again at another gate. And guess what? Yes, rejected again
!
But I was in a hurry to finally get down to the bleacher seats and try my luck at getting a ball, so I made my next half-hearted attempt to get past the gate-girl at the next section I came upon. Still no luck. The gate-girl pointed at my ticket, showed me that it was marked "Section 18," and politely pointed me in the right direction. Then I said, in Japanese, "Only?" while giving her this incredulous "You've got to be kidding me" look. But she didn't care and again pointed me to my left. Ugh!
It was only then that I realized we were only at Section 8 (Ha! Ha! Section 8! How appropriate!) or something like that and still had to go past ten sections. Ahhhhhh! I'll let you imagine for yourself what fabulous thoughts were then in my brain!
So when we finally did get to pass the gate-girl, guess what? Yup, just as I suspected: We were free to walk around wherever we wanted to. In other words, the gate-girls served no purpose whatsoever. Except
to drive me crazy, that is!
Note to you Japanese: Enough with your orderliness!
Besides, the next time I go to a Hawks game, I'm going to beat the system. How? Well, I'm just going to pretend that I was already at my seat and that I left my ticket with a friend or whatever. That is apparently what happened to a lady that I saw on her way in at one of the gates. At first it seemed like the gate-girl wasn't going to let her back in, but in she went. So I'm going to steal her idea. And my backup plan will be in my back pocket, if you get my drift! Hah! Take that!
(Heck, come to think of it, why did they even let us in at Gate 1 when our seats were closer to Gate 5?)
(In case you're wondering, SoftBank is the name of one of the major cell phone providers in Japan, Chiba is southeast of Tokyo, and Lotte is apparently the name of a huge Japanese/South Korean company.)
The game was scheduled to start at 6 p.m., but Courtney and I arrived at the park just after they opened the gates at 4 p.m., since I wanted to watch batting practice and try to get a ball or two. (Everyone in our group made their own way up to Fukuoka.)
But just getting into the dome was more difficult that I could have imagined.
The first problem we encountered was that there were no entrances on street level. So we had to find a staircase to go up. When we finally did get to the upper level, we weren't allowed in at the first entrance we tried. Apparently, it was the entrance reserved exclusively for some sort of "club" members, which I
think means that that must have been the entrance to the bleacher seats, which is home to the massive cheering squads.So we hurried over to the next-closest entrance and got in line. We only had to wait a few seconds to finally get in the stadium, but what struck me as quite odd, or rather, unbelievable, was the fact that the ticket takers were actually tearing off everyone's ticket stubs!
I was expecting the same high-tech treatment you get at stadiums in the U.S. nowadays, where you just pass your ticket under a bar-code reader and in you go. But, no, here in Japan they do things the old-fashioned way! Go figure! And to think that one of the first things I said to my supervisor when I got my ticket a couple weeks before the game was, "Boy, these tickets sure do look easy to forge." How right I was!
After we were finally inside the Dome, I was anxious to get down to the field so I could start trying to get balls. But that's where we met our next hurdle.
You see, at the entranc
e to every section of the stadium, there is a gate and a "gate-girl" manning it. In order to pass, you have to have a ticket for that particular section. So even though we were somewhere near the left-field bleachers, which was exactly where I wanted to be, we had to march all the way over to our section near third base before we could even see the field! How did I find that out? The hard way!I walked right up to the first entrance I saw, showed the gate-girl my ticket, and got nowhere. I put up some resistance and gave the girl this look like, "Are you kidding?" But she wouldn't bend. She politely pointed me to my left and said something in Japanese like, "Just a little bit further."
So I tried at the next gate. Rejected again! And at another gate. Rejection! Nothing but rejection.
I was flabbergasted. The thoughts that passed through my brain at that moment were things like: "Don't tell me that when we get down to the seating area, we're going to have to stay in our section. That would be ridiculous! What are these people thinking? That better not be the case. But why else would they not let us in anywhere we wanted? I don't get it."
So I tried yet again at another gate. And guess what? Yes, rejected again
!But I was in a hurry to finally get down to the bleacher seats and try my luck at getting a ball, so I made my next half-hearted attempt to get past the gate-girl at the next section I came upon. Still no luck. The gate-girl pointed at my ticket, showed me that it was marked "Section 18," and politely pointed me in the right direction. Then I said, in Japanese, "Only?" while giving her this incredulous "You've got to be kidding me" look. But she didn't care and again pointed me to my left. Ugh!
It was only then that I realized we were only at Section 8 (Ha! Ha! Section 8! How appropriate!) or something like that and still had to go past ten sections. Ahhhhhh! I'll let you imagine for yourself what fabulous thoughts were then in my brain!
So when we finally did get to pass the gate-girl, guess what? Yup, just as I suspected: We were free to walk around wherever we wanted to. In other words, the gate-girls served no purpose whatsoever. Except
to drive me crazy, that is!Note to you Japanese: Enough with your orderliness!
Besides, the next time I go to a Hawks game, I'm going to beat the system. How? Well, I'm just going to pretend that I was already at my seat and that I left my ticket with a friend or whatever. That is apparently what happened to a lady that I saw on her way in at one of the gates. At first it seemed like the gate-girl wasn't going to let her back in, but in she went. So I'm going to steal her idea. And my backup plan will be in my back pocket, if you get my drift! Hah! Take that!
(Heck, come to think of it, why did they even let us in at Gate 1 when our seats were closer to Gate 5?)
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Nagasaki Sightseeing
From Hiroshima, I traveled to Nagasaki. There were three reasons why I wanted to go to Nagasaki: I had yet to go there, I was pretty sur
e it would be a nice place to visit, and, most of all, I wanted to see the peace ceremony on August 9.
As a matter of fact, when I first found out that I would be arriving in Takachiho on August 8 last year, I contacted my supervisor (to be) and asked him if there was any way I could get to Nagasaki by the 9th (yes, the day after I was supposed to arrive in town!). He told me that that wouldn't be possible and that I should go there in 2008 instead. And this July my supervisor was good enough to remind me about Nagasaki. So I had to save face and make the trip. (Ha ha!)
Since I had missed the ceremony in Hiroshima, I was determined to at least make it to Nagasaki in time. So I left Hiroshima on August 8, giving myself plenty of time to get there.
Instead of traveling by shinkansen once again, I opted to travel by highway bus. Even though the ride to Fukuoka, my first stop, took about four hours, as opposed to the one hour plus that it would have taken by train, it only put me back 4000 yen, instead of the 8500 or so I would have spent had I taken the train. I certainly could have afforded to pay the extra 4500 yen (about $40) that the shinkansen would have cost, but I was in no hurry, I wanted to see wh
at riding a bus across part of Japan was like, and I didn't see anything wrong with trying to save a little money. So I went with the cheaper option.
Besides being affordable, the highway buses in Japan are surprisingly comfortable and convenient. If you're not sure exactly what I mean, think Greyhound versus a privately chartered tour bus. Here, no one riding the bus is rude, noisy, smelly, or scary, and the drivers are polite and smartly dressed (they even often wear white gloves!) and actually know where they are going.
Another thing about the highway buses is that en-route, all the bus stops are located along the highway (except for perhaps the first and last few stops). So rather than constantly pulling off the highway, heading over to a bus station, and then making its way back onto the highway, the bus simply pulls over at the designated stopping points along the (high)way, drops off and/or picks up passengers, and continues on its way. Nice, eh?
Oh and by the way, I have discovered that if you want to travel a long distance by train in Japan, unlike in several European countries, you have only two options: Either fork out for the bullet train (bite the bullet!) or be prepared for a tortuous ordeal involving endless transfers from one agonizingly slow train to another. So the highway buses are a very popular third option for long-distance, and even short-distance, travel.
Anyway, the bus ride wasn't really that exciting, except maybe for the 20 or 30 seconds it took us to cross the bridge from Honshu to Kyushu.
Shortly after I arrived in Fukuoka, I caught another highway bus south down to Kumamoto. That trip took another 2 hours and cost another 2000 yen, but talk about convenient! Throughout the day, buses run along the route nearly every 20 minutes! I couldn't believe it.
(Well, actually I could believe it, since I had looked up the schedule before I left Hiroshima. But still, I'm amazed at how often the buses run! Then again, I know from personal experience that the subways in major cities come as often as every 3 minutes at times, even on weekends and holidays, so I should stop being amazed at the efficiency of Japan's public transportation networks.)
Buying my ticket was also easy as pie, since there were plenty of automated ticket machines at the bus station, meaning I didn't have to stress out waiting in a line. That was great! I'm telling you, the Japanese really are good at this transportation thing.
When I arrived in Kumamoto, Courtney picked me up and then we drove west to the ferry terminal. Lucky for us, since we didn't have a schedule (some things I planned well, other things I didn't), we arrived in time to catch the last ferry of the day. (If we had miss
ed that ferry, we would have had to drive north and then back west and south all the way around Omura Bay. What a pain that would have been!) And doubly lucky for us, we were able to buy our round-trip tickets for 50% off.
The next day, we got up early and made our way to the Nagasaki Peace Park. We got there about an hour before the peace ceremony was to begin and were able to get great seats that were only several rows from the front and just to the left of where the VIPs were going to sit.
The ceremony started at 10:50 a.m., lasted for about an hour, and included such things as the moment of silence at 11:02, wreath laying, a speech from a survivor of the bombing, a short speech by the then Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda (he has since resigned!), doves (or were they pigeons?) being re
leased, and children singing.
Besides experiencing the ceremony itself, I also enjoyed chatting with the two charming ladies whom we sat next to, as well as the schoolchildren I met while I was walking around before the ceremony. (It's usually very easy to get into a conversation with little kids over here, since they are often awestruck at the sight of foreigners.) I had read that Americans would be more than welcome at the ceremony, and indeed we were.
After the ceremony, Courtney and I walked around the Peace Park. Near the Atomic Bomb Museum, we were invited by some college students to make origami cranes. Luckily, they gave us step-by-step (or rather "fold-by-fold") instructions! We finished our cranes, taped them to a memorial, took some pictures, and went on our way.
Then, we met a strange lady. I had asked her if she happened to know of a place nearby where we could eat and the next thing we knew, she had invited herself to tag along with us for lunch. In the course of our casual conversation while waiting for a table, I asked her where she worked. All she could come up with was a really strange non-answer. I guess I've read too many crazy stories in the news, but I got some really weird vibes from that lady and decided that the best thing to do was to bail on her. So we got up, left the restaurant, and continued on our own.
The rest of the day we spent visiting the Atomic Bomb Museum, riding the streetcars (since we had bought a one-day pass and wanted to make the most of it), walking around the harbor, and otherwise just relaxing.
And around 7 p.m., we returned to the Peace Park so we could take part in the lantern festival. We each picked up a lantern and proceeded to walk with a bunch of other people for about ten minutes until we reached the river. There, we handed over our lanterns to the organizers and watched as they finished preparing the floats and eventually sent them down the river. And thus ended our first night in Nagasaki.
(For the record, the Hiroshima lantern festival was a lot more impressive, since there was live music and a ton of people, the lanterns were put in the river one by one as opposed to being connected to each other, and the location was more central.)
The next morning, we skipped the traditional Japanese breakfast (good ol' rice balls, called onigiri, and miso soup) that we could have had for free at our hotel and instead went to a restaurant that we had spotted the day before called "Royal Host." And guess what we ordered? Pancakes! Yes, that's right: Pancakes, with butter and (fake) maple syrup! What a treat! It just goes to show that the food in Japan isn't all that bad after all, as long as you can get away from the Japanese food often enough!
After breakfast, we did a little bit of sightseeing in southern Nagasaki prefecture. The coolest thing we came across was a mini torii perched atop a big rock along the shoreline. The next-coolest thing we saw was Hashima Island, located a couple of kilometers off in the distance. At first g
lance, we thought the island was a container ship heading out to sea. But then we realized that what we were looking at was the deserted coal mining island that we had heard about. What an odd sight that was!
The last place we went sightseeing was Shimabara, a town located about 45 km east of Nagasaki. There, we killed some time on the grounds of Shimabara castle, mostly just goofing off by taking pictures of ourselves in front of statues, before driving over to the port and catching the ferry back to Kumamoto.
The next day, Courtney and I both headed back to school. The funny thing was, though, that just about no other teachers were there, since there was still one week of vacation left. But this being Japan, well, just about the only way to avoid being at school during vacation (unless there's a national holiday, for instance) is to take nenkyu, or paid vacation (we get 20 days of nenkyu per year). And since we both decided to save our nenkyu for some other time, it was off to school we went.
Spending my days in the teachers room all by myself actually went better than I expected. I could pretty much come and go as I pleased (i.e., long lunch break), I could do whatever I wanted (I even watched the Olympics on TV for a few minutes), and I wasn't bothered by anyone (or anyone making annoying noises for that matter!).
So all in all, that week of "work" was really equal to a week of free nenkyu, if you know what I mean. Not a bad way to end my second exciting and relaxing vacation in Japan!
e it would be a nice place to visit, and, most of all, I wanted to see the peace ceremony on August 9.As a matter of fact, when I first found out that I would be arriving in Takachiho on August 8 last year, I contacted my supervisor (to be) and asked him if there was any way I could get to Nagasaki by the 9th (yes, the day after I was supposed to arrive in town!). He told me that that wouldn't be possible and that I should go there in 2008 instead. And this July my supervisor was good enough to remind me about Nagasaki. So I had to save face and make the trip. (Ha ha!)
Since I had missed the ceremony in Hiroshima, I was determined to at least make it to Nagasaki in time. So I left Hiroshima on August 8, giving myself plenty of time to get there.
Instead of traveling by shinkansen once again, I opted to travel by highway bus. Even though the ride to Fukuoka, my first stop, took about four hours, as opposed to the one hour plus that it would have taken by train, it only put me back 4000 yen, instead of the 8500 or so I would have spent had I taken the train. I certainly could have afforded to pay the extra 4500 yen (about $40) that the shinkansen would have cost, but I was in no hurry, I wanted to see wh
at riding a bus across part of Japan was like, and I didn't see anything wrong with trying to save a little money. So I went with the cheaper option.Besides being affordable, the highway buses in Japan are surprisingly comfortable and convenient. If you're not sure exactly what I mean, think Greyhound versus a privately chartered tour bus. Here, no one riding the bus is rude, noisy, smelly, or scary, and the drivers are polite and smartly dressed (they even often wear white gloves!) and actually know where they are going.
Another thing about the highway buses is that en-route, all the bus stops are located along the highway (except for perhaps the first and last few stops). So rather than constantly pulling off the highway, heading over to a bus station, and then making its way back onto the highway, the bus simply pulls over at the designated stopping points along the (high)way, drops off and/or picks up passengers, and continues on its way. Nice, eh?
Oh and by the way, I have discovered that if you want to travel a long distance by train in Japan, unlike in several European countries, you have only two options: Either fork out for the bullet train (bite the bullet!) or be prepared for a tortuous ordeal involving endless transfers from one agonizingly slow train to another. So the highway buses are a very popular third option for long-distance, and even short-distance, travel.
Anyway, the bus ride wasn't really that exciting, except maybe for the 20 or 30 seconds it took us to cross the bridge from Honshu to Kyushu.
Shortly after I arrived in Fukuoka, I caught another highway bus south down to Kumamoto. That trip took another 2 hours and cost another 2000 yen, but talk about convenient! Throughout the day, buses run along the route nearly every 20 minutes! I couldn't believe it.
(Well, actually I could believe it, since I had looked up the schedule before I left Hiroshima. But still, I'm amazed at how often the buses run! Then again, I know from personal experience that the subways in major cities come as often as every 3 minutes at times, even on weekends and holidays, so I should stop being amazed at the efficiency of Japan's public transportation networks.)
Buying my ticket was also easy as pie, since there were plenty of automated ticket machines at the bus station, meaning I didn't have to stress out waiting in a line. That was great! I'm telling you, the Japanese really are good at this transportation thing.
When I arrived in Kumamoto, Courtney picked me up and then we drove west to the ferry terminal. Lucky for us, since we didn't have a schedule (some things I planned well, other things I didn't), we arrived in time to catch the last ferry of the day. (If we had miss
ed that ferry, we would have had to drive north and then back west and south all the way around Omura Bay. What a pain that would have been!) And doubly lucky for us, we were able to buy our round-trip tickets for 50% off.The next day, we got up early and made our way to the Nagasaki Peace Park. We got there about an hour before the peace ceremony was to begin and were able to get great seats that were only several rows from the front and just to the left of where the VIPs were going to sit.
The ceremony started at 10:50 a.m., lasted for about an hour, and included such things as the moment of silence at 11:02, wreath laying, a speech from a survivor of the bombing, a short speech by the then Prime Minister Yasuo Fukuda (he has since resigned!), doves (or were they pigeons?) being re
leased, and children singing.Besides experiencing the ceremony itself, I also enjoyed chatting with the two charming ladies whom we sat next to, as well as the schoolchildren I met while I was walking around before the ceremony. (It's usually very easy to get into a conversation with little kids over here, since they are often awestruck at the sight of foreigners.) I had read that Americans would be more than welcome at the ceremony, and indeed we were.
After the ceremony, Courtney and I walked around the Peace Park. Near the Atomic Bomb Museum, we were invited by some college students to make origami cranes. Luckily, they gave us step-by-step (or rather "fold-by-fold") instructions! We finished our cranes, taped them to a memorial, took some pictures, and went on our way.
Then, we met a strange lady. I had asked her if she happened to know of a place nearby where we could eat and the next thing we knew, she had invited herself to tag along with us for lunch. In the course of our casual conversation while waiting for a table, I asked her where she worked. All she could come up with was a really strange non-answer. I guess I've read too many crazy stories in the news, but I got some really weird vibes from that lady and decided that the best thing to do was to bail on her. So we got up, left the restaurant, and continued on our own.
The rest of the day we spent visiting the Atomic Bomb Museum, riding the streetcars (since we had bought a one-day pass and wanted to make the most of it), walking around the harbor, and otherwise just relaxing.
And around 7 p.m., we returned to the Peace Park so we could take part in the lantern festival. We each picked up a lantern and proceeded to walk with a bunch of other people for about ten minutes until we reached the river. There, we handed over our lanterns to the organizers and watched as they finished preparing the floats and eventually sent them down the river. And thus ended our first night in Nagasaki.
(For the record, the Hiroshima lantern festival was a lot more impressive, since there was live music and a ton of people, the lanterns were put in the river one by one as opposed to being connected to each other, and the location was more central.)
The next morning, we skipped the traditional Japanese breakfast (good ol' rice balls, called onigiri, and miso soup) that we could have had for free at our hotel and instead went to a restaurant that we had spotted the day before called "Royal Host." And guess what we ordered? Pancakes! Yes, that's right: Pancakes, with butter and (fake) maple syrup! What a treat! It just goes to show that the food in Japan isn't all that bad after all, as long as you can get away from the Japanese food often enough!
After breakfast, we did a little bit of sightseeing in southern Nagasaki prefecture. The coolest thing we came across was a mini torii perched atop a big rock along the shoreline. The next-coolest thing we saw was Hashima Island, located a couple of kilometers off in the distance. At first g
lance, we thought the island was a container ship heading out to sea. But then we realized that what we were looking at was the deserted coal mining island that we had heard about. What an odd sight that was!The last place we went sightseeing was Shimabara, a town located about 45 km east of Nagasaki. There, we killed some time on the grounds of Shimabara castle, mostly just goofing off by taking pictures of ourselves in front of statues, before driving over to the port and catching the ferry back to Kumamoto.
The next day, Courtney and I both headed back to school. The funny thing was, though, that just about no other teachers were there, since there was still one week of vacation left. But this being Japan, well, just about the only way to avoid being at school during vacation (unless there's a national holiday, for instance) is to take nenkyu, or paid vacation (we get 20 days of nenkyu per year). And since we both decided to save our nenkyu for some other time, it was off to school we went.
Spending my days in the teachers room all by myself actually went better than I expected. I could pretty much come and go as I pleased (i.e., long lunch break), I could do whatever I wanted (I even watched the Olympics on TV for a few minutes), and I wasn't bothered by anyone (or anyone making annoying noises for that matter!).
So all in all, that week of "work" was really equal to a week of free nenkyu, if you know what I mean. Not a bad way to end my second exciting and relaxing vacation in Japan!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Various Updates
Cockroach update: You may remember that I caught a cockroach in the kitchen back in early July. He didn't check in to the roach motel that I so kindly left for him, but I did nab him nonetheless. I wasn't surprised that the roach motel didn't lure the sucker, because I reme
mber seeing several of the exact same motels placed in various spots around the apartment that I first lived in, and, even though the cockroaches there were out in force, all of the motels were vacant.
So what a surprise it was to find that a customer had checked in a few days later! Holy cow! The motels work! Either that, or I just caught the dumbest cockroach in Japan. And guess what? Ever since that second bug bit the dust, I haven't spotted or caught any more. So I hope that's the end of them. But who knows? Maybe they have avoided detection. Or maybe I just jinxed myself by writing about their demise. Stay tuned.
**********************
Weather update: The rainy season supposedly ended in early July, but it's still raining quite a bit. I think the Japanese need to re-define what they consider the rainy
season. Oh, and when I got back from my recent trip, all of a sudden the humidity in Gokase had all but disappeared. Amazing! So I'm back to walking to work, and I'm barely sweating when I arrive. How nice. And instead of the temperature hovering around 30 degrees C (86 F) in the morning, it's now usually around 20 C (68 F)! What a difference that makes! The temperature in Gokase had dropped so much, I feared that summer was over. Heck, one night when several of us teachers were drinking at the beer garden, we were actually a bit cold sitting there in our shorts and T-shirts. But, alas, all it took was a trip back to the lowlands to realize that summer was still here. I tell you, down along the coast, it's much hotter and much more humid. I certainly wish I could live near the beaches so I could go swimming or surfing more often, but I like the trade-off of the cooler weather.
And on a related note: It's getting closer and closer to rice harvesting time. It's probably just my imagination, but it seems like the rice has spurted in the past few weeks. Time sure flies.
**********************
Mini-triathlon update: It turns out I was right, that I did finish in third place. So I got the (non-existent) bronze medal. Amazingly, the first- and second-place finishers crossed the finish line only one second a
part! I was approximately 1:29 behind them. Even though my time is unofficial and based on my watch, the fourth-place finisher came in a good 45 seconds after me, so I'm sure I got third place. As far as I know, the results have yet to be officially announced, and I have no idea if they ever will be. But what will probably happen is the that maybe in another month or two the top finishers will receive some sort of certificate or award in front of the other students. You see, at school they are often in no hurry to pass out certificates. It's a shame, because by now, everyone has forgotten about the race, anyway. By the way, I know how the students fared because I got the times from a P.E. teacher, upon my request. (The first marked column has the swim times, the second one the bike times, the third one the run times, and the last one has the total times.)
mber seeing several of the exact same motels placed in various spots around the apartment that I first lived in, and, even though the cockroaches there were out in force, all of the motels were vacant.So what a surprise it was to find that a customer had checked in a few days later! Holy cow! The motels work! Either that, or I just caught the dumbest cockroach in Japan. And guess what? Ever since that second bug bit the dust, I haven't spotted or caught any more. So I hope that's the end of them. But who knows? Maybe they have avoided detection. Or maybe I just jinxed myself by writing about their demise. Stay tuned.
**********************
Weather update: The rainy season supposedly ended in early July, but it's still raining quite a bit. I think the Japanese need to re-define what they consider the rainy
season. Oh, and when I got back from my recent trip, all of a sudden the humidity in Gokase had all but disappeared. Amazing! So I'm back to walking to work, and I'm barely sweating when I arrive. How nice. And instead of the temperature hovering around 30 degrees C (86 F) in the morning, it's now usually around 20 C (68 F)! What a difference that makes! The temperature in Gokase had dropped so much, I feared that summer was over. Heck, one night when several of us teachers were drinking at the beer garden, we were actually a bit cold sitting there in our shorts and T-shirts. But, alas, all it took was a trip back to the lowlands to realize that summer was still here. I tell you, down along the coast, it's much hotter and much more humid. I certainly wish I could live near the beaches so I could go swimming or surfing more often, but I like the trade-off of the cooler weather.And on a related note: It's getting closer and closer to rice harvesting time. It's probably just my imagination, but it seems like the rice has spurted in the past few weeks. Time sure flies.
**********************
Mini-triathlon update: It turns out I was right, that I did finish in third place. So I got the (non-existent) bronze medal. Amazingly, the first- and second-place finishers crossed the finish line only one second a
part! I was approximately 1:29 behind them. Even though my time is unofficial and based on my watch, the fourth-place finisher came in a good 45 seconds after me, so I'm sure I got third place. As far as I know, the results have yet to be officially announced, and I have no idea if they ever will be. But what will probably happen is the that maybe in another month or two the top finishers will receive some sort of certificate or award in front of the other students. You see, at school they are often in no hurry to pass out certificates. It's a shame, because by now, everyone has forgotten about the race, anyway. By the way, I know how the students fared because I got the times from a P.E. teacher, upon my request. (The first marked column has the swim times, the second one the bike times, the third one the run times, and the last one has the total times.)
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Sightseeing: Hiroshima
I rested in Nagoya for about a day after hiking and then took the shinkansen to Hiroshima.
In the past, I've ridden two other famous high-speed trains: France's TGV and Germany's ICE. The two best things that I remember about the TGV are that it was relatively inexpensive and extremely quiet. The worst thing that I remember about the TGV was that the legroom was rather limited.
The ICE also brings back good as well as bad memories. The good: The ICE is comfortable, roomy, and fast, and there is a handy display showing the train's speed. The bad: The ICE is expensive, often runs behind schedule or even breaks down, and travels over certain routes barely faster than the cheaper trains.
My shinkansen experience was a completely different story. The train was fast and on-time, and I had plenty of legroom, there were lots of seats, since the rows were in a 3-2 format, rather than the usual 2-2, and the aisle down the middle was wider than the aisle on most trains I've been on. The most impressive thing about the shinkansen, however, is that there seems to be a train every 10-15 minutes. Incredible!
Of course, Japan's high-speed train is a little pricey: I paid 14,030 yen for the roughly 420 km ride, although I easily could have saved a few hundred yen if I hadn't taken the nozomi superfast shinkansen plus another 1,100 yen or so by not reserving a seat (live and learn!). But you can't beat the comfort and the speed: 2:20! T
he nod clearly goes to the shinkansen!
I arrived in Hiroshima at about 1:30 p.m. on August 6, the day of the anniversary of the A-bomb.
Unfortunately, I missed out on the remembrance ceremony, since that was held early in the morning. But I did get to see the lantern festival at night. Hundreds of lanterns were decorated and then floated down the river, making for a lovely sight. And there was music, too, that a
dded a nice touch to the celebration of peace.
The next day I spent a lot of time at and near the Peace Memorial Park. There were lots of memorials and monuments, as well as a museum.
One of the most impressive sights in the peace park area was the thousands and thousands of origami cranes that people had made and donated to the Children's Peace Monument. As a matter of fact, while I was looking around and taking pictures, several people showed up with their "vines" of folded cranes and added them to the exhibit, something that the public is encouraged to do.
Of course, I also saw the so-called A-Bomb Dome that is one of the symbols of Hiroshima. Like practically everyone else who was there, I took tons of pictures of the destroyed building. And I did a lot of thinking, trying to imagine what it must
have been like to have been present when the bomb went off.
Sometimes, when I see something famous with my own eyes, I'm not overly impressed and I think to myself, "Well, at least now I can say I've seen it." But the A-Bomb Dome had a greater effect on me. The people who decided not to tear it down knew what they were doing.
Another really cool place in Hiroshima is Miyajima, an island off the southwest coast of the city that takes only 15 minutes to reach by ferry (but it took about 45 minutes to reach the ferry terminal by streetcar!).
The most famous site on the island is undoubtedly the Itsukushima shrine and its fantastic red torii, both of which are surrounded by water(!) at high tide.
When I happened to visit, the tide was out. Perhaps the view wasn't quite as spectacular as it could have been, but I at least had an opportunity to get a really good look at the torii. I'll have to go back someday to see the place during high tide to see what is more impressive.
Just like in Nara, there are also wild deer roaming about. I saw them from the moment I stepped off of the ferry. One deer was especially brave and came right up to me and started sniffing at my shorts, clearly in search of food.
My first night in Hiroshima, I stayed in a capsule hotel. That was quite an experience. I knew the place would probably only be of the 1 or 2 star variety, but "Spend a night at a capsule hotel" was one of the things on my "To Do While Living In Japan" list.
So I showed up a little after 4 p.m., when check-in starts. I paid my 2300 yen (those are some pretty cheap accommodations) and the strange man behind the counter handed me a couple of keys, one for my shoe locker and the other for my clothes locker. Then he asked me if I wanted a yukata-like robe. I had seen a guy already wearing one, but I didn't see the point of that, so I declined. (I guess in some capsule hotels, you are supposed to wear the robe.) Once I was all set, I took a tour of the place. It was about what I expected: Not very clean, but not very dirty. I guess you could say it reminded me a little of my college days living in a dormitory.
Downstairs, that is on the first floor, there was a small communal area with vending machines and a television set. Just next to that, there was a locker room, which included some sinks, a bathroom, and a shower room/mini-onsen.
The capsules were upstairs. Mine was on the second floor. The capsules were pretty much just that: fairly small sleeping compartments, stacked two high. I tried mine out and found it to be roomier than I expected and actually relatively comfortable. There was even a tiny air-conditioning unit inside, so I wasn't worried about sweating to death at night, as well as a tiny light, a 12-inch television set (you had to put coins in a slot to use the TV), a small clock that probably had an alarm setting, and a little radio, all seemingly from the 1970's. And the area was so quiet that I barely noticed several guys resting or even sleeping in their capsules.
There were also luggage lockers, but I didn't bother schlepping my bags with me to the hotel. Instead, I left them at the train station.
The one thing that struck me the most about the capsules was that they didn't have a door, per se, but more of a sliding panel. Since I couldn't figure out how to lock mine and was actually worried that I might lock myself in, when I went to bed all I did was slide the thing shut. Even though the place was male-only, I wasn't worried in the least that some freak would try to open my compartment while I was sleeping. The place was a bit shady, but not that shady.
I guess there are some nicer capsule hotels around Japan, so maybe I'll try one out again someday. Heck, it was cheap and conveniently-located, and I slept much better than I expected.
One more thing I did while I was in Hiroshima was take a tour of the bas
eball stadium where the Hiroshima Carp play. The Carp weren't in town, but there happened to be a college tournament going on, so I was fortunate enough to have gotten a chance to go inside the stadium. I'm not sure if the place is going to be torn down after this season, but the Carp are moving into a new stadium next season, so I cherished the opportunity to get a close look at the old stadium.
Oddly enough, the new stadium is being built far from downtown, whereas the old stadium that the Carp currently play in is located smack-dab in the middle of town, right across the street from the A-Bomb Do
me. It's hard to believe that the team thinks it's a good idea to move away from the city, when most teams, at least in the United States, do their best to build their new stadiums as close to downtown as possible.
And finally, what trip to Hiroshima would be complete without okonomiyake? Okonomiyake is kind of a cross between a deluxe pancake and a deluxe omelet. And the two places in Japan that are famous for the dish are Osaka and Hiroshima. I'm not exactly sure what the main difference between the two styles of okonomiyake is, but I think it's this: In Osaka, the ingredients are all mixed together before the okonomiyake is
fried up and in Hiroshima, the okonomiyake is made one layer at a time. In any case, that's as much as I understood when I asked the young lady who served me to explain the difference. I may be sick of some Japanese food, but I still find okonomiyake to be rather delicious, especially since you can have just about anything you want on it. Besides (as I believe I mentioned in an earlier blog), okonomiyake was the first meal I had in Miyazaki, so it holds a special place in my heart.
I didn't experience all of what Hiroshima has to offer, but I had a great time there and I wanted to save something for another time.
Thanks, Hiroshima!
In the past, I've ridden two other famous high-speed trains: France's TGV and Germany's ICE. The two best things that I remember about the TGV are that it was relatively inexpensive and extremely quiet. The worst thing that I remember about the TGV was that the legroom was rather limited.
The ICE also brings back good as well as bad memories. The good: The ICE is comfortable, roomy, and fast, and there is a handy display showing the train's speed. The bad: The ICE is expensive, often runs behind schedule or even breaks down, and travels over certain routes barely faster than the cheaper trains.
My shinkansen experience was a completely different story. The train was fast and on-time, and I had plenty of legroom, there were lots of seats, since the rows were in a 3-2 format, rather than the usual 2-2, and the aisle down the middle was wider than the aisle on most trains I've been on. The most impressive thing about the shinkansen, however, is that there seems to be a train every 10-15 minutes. Incredible!
Of course, Japan's high-speed train is a little pricey: I paid 14,030 yen for the roughly 420 km ride, although I easily could have saved a few hundred yen if I hadn't taken the nozomi superfast shinkansen plus another 1,100 yen or so by not reserving a seat (live and learn!). But you can't beat the comfort and the speed: 2:20! T
he nod clearly goes to the shinkansen!I arrived in Hiroshima at about 1:30 p.m. on August 6, the day of the anniversary of the A-bomb.
Unfortunately, I missed out on the remembrance ceremony, since that was held early in the morning. But I did get to see the lantern festival at night. Hundreds of lanterns were decorated and then floated down the river, making for a lovely sight. And there was music, too, that a
dded a nice touch to the celebration of peace.The next day I spent a lot of time at and near the Peace Memorial Park. There were lots of memorials and monuments, as well as a museum.
One of the most impressive sights in the peace park area was the thousands and thousands of origami cranes that people had made and donated to the Children's Peace Monument. As a matter of fact, while I was looking around and taking pictures, several people showed up with their "vines" of folded cranes and added them to the exhibit, something that the public is encouraged to do.
Of course, I also saw the so-called A-Bomb Dome that is one of the symbols of Hiroshima. Like practically everyone else who was there, I took tons of pictures of the destroyed building. And I did a lot of thinking, trying to imagine what it must
have been like to have been present when the bomb went off.Sometimes, when I see something famous with my own eyes, I'm not overly impressed and I think to myself, "Well, at least now I can say I've seen it." But the A-Bomb Dome had a greater effect on me. The people who decided not to tear it down knew what they were doing.
Another really cool place in Hiroshima is Miyajima, an island off the southwest coast of the city that takes only 15 minutes to reach by ferry (but it took about 45 minutes to reach the ferry terminal by streetcar!).
The most famous site on the island is undoubtedly the Itsukushima shrine and its fantastic red torii, both of which are surrounded by water(!) at high tide.
When I happened to visit, the tide was out. Perhaps the view wasn't quite as spectacular as it could have been, but I at least had an opportunity to get a really good look at the torii. I'll have to go back someday to see the place during high tide to see what is more impressive.Just like in Nara, there are also wild deer roaming about. I saw them from the moment I stepped off of the ferry. One deer was especially brave and came right up to me and started sniffing at my shorts, clearly in search of food.
My first night in Hiroshima, I stayed in a capsule hotel. That was quite an experience. I knew the place would probably only be of the 1 or 2 star variety, but "Spend a night at a capsule hotel" was one of the things on my "To Do While Living In Japan" list.
So I showed up a little after 4 p.m., when check-in starts. I paid my 2300 yen (those are some pretty cheap accommodations) and the strange man behind the counter handed me a couple of keys, one for my shoe locker and the other for my clothes locker. Then he asked me if I wanted a yukata-like robe. I had seen a guy already wearing one, but I didn't see the point of that, so I declined. (I guess in some capsule hotels, you are supposed to wear the robe.) Once I was all set, I took a tour of the place. It was about what I expected: Not very clean, but not very dirty. I guess you could say it reminded me a little of my college days living in a dormitory.
Downstairs, that is on the first floor, there was a small communal area with vending machines and a television set. Just next to that, there was a locker room, which included some sinks, a bathroom, and a shower room/mini-onsen.
The capsules were upstairs. Mine was on the second floor. The capsules were pretty much just that: fairly small sleeping compartments, stacked two high. I tried mine out and found it to be roomier than I expected and actually relatively comfortable. There was even a tiny air-conditioning unit inside, so I wasn't worried about sweating to death at night, as well as a tiny light, a 12-inch television set (you had to put coins in a slot to use the TV), a small clock that probably had an alarm setting, and a little radio, all seemingly from the 1970's. And the area was so quiet that I barely noticed several guys resting or even sleeping in their capsules.
There were also luggage lockers, but I didn't bother schlepping my bags with me to the hotel. Instead, I left them at the train station.
The one thing that struck me the most about the capsules was that they didn't have a door, per se, but more of a sliding panel. Since I couldn't figure out how to lock mine and was actually worried that I might lock myself in, when I went to bed all I did was slide the thing shut. Even though the place was male-only, I wasn't worried in the least that some freak would try to open my compartment while I was sleeping. The place was a bit shady, but not that shady.
I guess there are some nicer capsule hotels around Japan, so maybe I'll try one out again someday. Heck, it was cheap and conveniently-located, and I slept much better than I expected.
One more thing I did while I was in Hiroshima was take a tour of the bas
eball stadium where the Hiroshima Carp play. The Carp weren't in town, but there happened to be a college tournament going on, so I was fortunate enough to have gotten a chance to go inside the stadium. I'm not sure if the place is going to be torn down after this season, but the Carp are moving into a new stadium next season, so I cherished the opportunity to get a close look at the old stadium.Oddly enough, the new stadium is being built far from downtown, whereas the old stadium that the Carp currently play in is located smack-dab in the middle of town, right across the street from the A-Bomb Do
me. It's hard to believe that the team thinks it's a good idea to move away from the city, when most teams, at least in the United States, do their best to build their new stadiums as close to downtown as possible.And finally, what trip to Hiroshima would be complete without okonomiyake? Okonomiyake is kind of a cross between a deluxe pancake and a deluxe omelet. And the two places in Japan that are famous for the dish are Osaka and Hiroshima. I'm not exactly sure what the main difference between the two styles of okonomiyake is, but I think it's this: In Osaka, the ingredients are all mixed together before the okonomiyake is
fried up and in Hiroshima, the okonomiyake is made one layer at a time. In any case, that's as much as I understood when I asked the young lady who served me to explain the difference. I may be sick of some Japanese food, but I still find okonomiyake to be rather delicious, especially since you can have just about anything you want on it. Besides (as I believe I mentioned in an earlier blog), okonomiyake was the first meal I had in Miyazaki, so it holds a special place in my heart.I didn't experience all of what Hiroshima has to offer, but I had a great time there and I wanted to save something for another time.
Thanks, Hiroshima!
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
What a Waste!
A few minutes ago, I tried to finally watch one of Michael Phelps' races, the 200-meter butterfly, live, so I could see this amazing swimmer compete.
I mean, this guy must be the story of the Olympics, at least so far. But when I turned on the television set, guess what I saw: Women's gymnastics.
Women's gymnastics? Yes, women's gymnastics.
But we're not talking just any women's gymnastics, mind you. No, we're talking the Japanese National Team women's gymnastics.
Ugh!
I waited patiently, hoping that the broadcast would switch to swimming.
The race was supposed to start at 11:21 local time.
11:20 rolled along.
Nothing.
11:21.
Still nothing.
11:22.
Still nothing.
No swimming.
And then, a news flash appeared on the screen.
The first thing I deciphered was: 200-meter butterfly.
Could this mean they are about to switch to the race? Please, please, please, switch to the damn race before it's too late!
But then I saw the word "medal." Oh, no. The race is over. Crap!
What's with this damn Japanese television station!? Sure, Michael Phelps isn't Japanese. But who cares? He's maybe the best athlete at the Olympic Games and I want to see him. Come on! Don't the Japanese want to see this guy in action?
And then I saw a Japanese swimmer's name: Matsuda.
And something about him winning the bronze medal.
Oh, hooray for Japan! Your guy won the stinkin' bronze medal.
What about Phelps???
I waited a couple more minutes to see if they would announce the winner of the race.
No such luck.
Maybe they planned to show the race after all, perhaps a few minutes later.
But I didn't care.
I wanted to see the race live. I wanted to see history in the making, not on tape-delay.
So I switched off the TV.
And pulled up ESPN.com on my laptop.
Gold medal #4 for Phelps. And I missed it.
Thank you NHK. You suck!
I mean, this guy must be the story of the Olympics, at least so far. But when I turned on the television set, guess what I saw: Women's gymnastics.
Women's gymnastics? Yes, women's gymnastics.
But we're not talking just any women's gymnastics, mind you. No, we're talking the Japanese National Team women's gymnastics.
Ugh!
I waited patiently, hoping that the broadcast would switch to swimming.
The race was supposed to start at 11:21 local time.
11:20 rolled along.
Nothing.
11:21.
Still nothing.
11:22.
Still nothing.
No swimming.
And then, a news flash appeared on the screen.
The first thing I deciphered was: 200-meter butterfly.
Could this mean they are about to switch to the race? Please, please, please, switch to the damn race before it's too late!
But then I saw the word "medal." Oh, no. The race is over. Crap!
What's with this damn Japanese television station!? Sure, Michael Phelps isn't Japanese. But who cares? He's maybe the best athlete at the Olympic Games and I want to see him. Come on! Don't the Japanese want to see this guy in action?
And then I saw a Japanese swimmer's name: Matsuda.
And something about him winning the bronze medal.
Oh, hooray for Japan! Your guy won the stinkin' bronze medal.
What about Phelps???
I waited a couple more minutes to see if they would announce the winner of the race.
No such luck.
Maybe they planned to show the race after all, perhaps a few minutes later.
But I didn't care.
I wanted to see the race live. I wanted to see history in the making, not on tape-delay.
So I switched off the TV.
And pulled up ESPN.com on my laptop.
Gold medal #4 for Phelps. And I missed it.
Thank you NHK. You suck!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Take a Hike! Part 2
After we admired Mt. Fuji for a while, we finally packed up our tent, had some breakfast, and started on our next hike.
Whereas the hike on Day 1 was mostly up, up, up, the hike on Day 2 was mostly flat.
The first peak we stopped at was Ai-no-dake, Japan's fourth-highest mountain, just a few meters lower than Kita-dake at 3189 meters. We took our time getting to the summit, arriving at around 10:45 a.m. We had great views of Mt. Fuji most of the way over to her and also from the top, so we paused quite a bit to admire Japan's highest mountain.
After we relaxed at the summit for a while, Akinori continued on to our next campsite, whereas Eric and I took a side trip to hit up two more peaks.
It turns out that just as we passed the first peak, the very nondescript Nishi-Notori-dake (3051 meters and #16 on the list of Japan's highest mountains), Eric decided he
didn't want to go on. So he turned around, hiked back to where we had left our backpacks at the last lodge that we had passed, and waited for me there.
In the meantime, I continued on by myself to the second peak, Notori-dake (3026 meters and #21 on the list), which was only about 30 minutes farther along the ridge.
Eventually, I made it back down to the lodge, bought two drinks, and found Eric. Unfortunately for Eric, he was sleeping in the sunshine, which was a big mistake, as that led to him getting a bad case of sunburn.
By the way, the lodges have a great supply of food and drinks, provided via helicopter delivery. Of course, y
ou have to pay an arm and a leg for the supplies (e.g., a 500 ml bottle of water or a sports drink costs about 400 or 500 yen instead of the 150 that one normally pays if one's not on a mountain), but you can't beat the convenience!
I didn't realize how fatigued I was at that point until I was pouring the two 500 ml drinks I had just bought into my 1000 ml drink bottle. You see, I started with about 200 ml and ended up with about 900 ml instead of 1200 ml. How is that possible? Well, just after I poured about 300 ml worth of one of the drinks into my big bottle, I dumped it back out reaching down for the other half-liter bottle. Nice job, Yama!
We both laughed off my mistake and then took off on a kind of shortcut back to the main trail that Akinori had hiked along. And we eventually made our way to the lodge/cam
psite where Akinori was waiting for us.
That's where we met Toshiro, the manager of the place.
Toshiro was a riot. For example, when we asked him where he was from, this was his answer: "I'm Korean... I mean, I'm Chinese... I'm actually Vietnamese."
And the guy was so nice! He tried to repair my hiking boots, which were coming apart at the back of the soles. And he gave us some free food and drinks that night and the next morning before we took off on Day 3.
We got along so well from the moment we met Toshiro, it was as if he was our long-lost friend. I really enjoyed hanging out with him and hope to see him again some day up at his lodge.
Day 3 was the big trudge to the end.
I was fairly eager to continue down the Southern Alps chain for at least another day, but my boots probably weren't going to last much longer and Eric's sunburn was pretty bad. So we decided to stick with the plan we had made before we started the hike on Saturday morning: Two nights, three days. (Both nights, before going to bed, my legs were so tired, I wasn't sure what kind of shape I'd be in the next day. But when I woke up the next day, I felt completely refreshed and was raring to go.)
So this was our last day, and it was going to be a long one. We had to cover about 20 km! Ugh! (Had we decided to keep hiking, we would have stopped at a campsite after 15 km.)
There were two highlights that day: The first was when Eric and I saw a bunch of wild monkeys! (Akinori left the campsite at 5 a.m., whereas Eric and I left at 7 a.m., so Akinori wasn't with us at the time.)
We had driven quickly past two monkeys on the way to the bus stop on Saturday, but this time we were just sitting on the trail, taking a break, when Eric spotted a monkey up ahead, relaxing in the sunshine and having a snack. Soon, we saw some more monkeys. They kept their distance, and we weren't about to interfere with them, so I didn't get any great pictures of them, unfortunately. But it was still exciting to see them.
The second highlight was making it to the top of Shiomi-dake (3047 m or 3052 m, and #17 or #16 on the list, depending on the source). And even though the weather was so overcast that the mountain didn't live up to it's name, which means something like "Mt. See-the-
Salt," i.e., "Mt. See-the-Ocean" (the only salt that I saw was the salt that I rubbed off of my forehead), I was still happy to have climbed her!
And it was also good to see Akinori again! I found him resting next to the peak's western summit. (Eric caught up to us about 20 minutes later.)
From there, it was all down, down, down. We did encounter our first bit of bad weather of the trip, not counting the gusting wind on Kita-dake and Ai-no-dake, as it started to rain in the afternoon. But all of us were prepared for that situation and kept dry for the most part. And at 7 p.m., we made it back down to about 1000 meters and the parking lot where, thankfully, Akinori's dad was waiting for us!
And thus ended my first hike in the Japanese Alps.
Whereas the hike on Day 1 was mostly up, up, up, the hike on Day 2 was mostly flat.
The first peak we stopped at was Ai-no-dake, Japan's fourth-highest mountain, just a few meters lower than Kita-dake at 3189 meters. We took our time getting to the summit, arriving at around 10:45 a.m. We had great views of Mt. Fuji most of the way over to her and also from the top, so we paused quite a bit to admire Japan's highest mountain.
After we relaxed at the summit for a while, Akinori continued on to our next campsite, whereas Eric and I took a side trip to hit up two more peaks.
It turns out that just as we passed the first peak, the very nondescript Nishi-Notori-dake (3051 meters and #16 on the list of Japan's highest mountains), Eric decided he
didn't want to go on. So he turned around, hiked back to where we had left our backpacks at the last lodge that we had passed, and waited for me there.In the meantime, I continued on by myself to the second peak, Notori-dake (3026 meters and #21 on the list), which was only about 30 minutes farther along the ridge.
Eventually, I made it back down to the lodge, bought two drinks, and found Eric. Unfortunately for Eric, he was sleeping in the sunshine, which was a big mistake, as that led to him getting a bad case of sunburn.
By the way, the lodges have a great supply of food and drinks, provided via helicopter delivery. Of course, y
ou have to pay an arm and a leg for the supplies (e.g., a 500 ml bottle of water or a sports drink costs about 400 or 500 yen instead of the 150 that one normally pays if one's not on a mountain), but you can't beat the convenience!I didn't realize how fatigued I was at that point until I was pouring the two 500 ml drinks I had just bought into my 1000 ml drink bottle. You see, I started with about 200 ml and ended up with about 900 ml instead of 1200 ml. How is that possible? Well, just after I poured about 300 ml worth of one of the drinks into my big bottle, I dumped it back out reaching down for the other half-liter bottle. Nice job, Yama!
We both laughed off my mistake and then took off on a kind of shortcut back to the main trail that Akinori had hiked along. And we eventually made our way to the lodge/cam
psite where Akinori was waiting for us.That's where we met Toshiro, the manager of the place.
Toshiro was a riot. For example, when we asked him where he was from, this was his answer: "I'm Korean... I mean, I'm Chinese... I'm actually Vietnamese."
And the guy was so nice! He tried to repair my hiking boots, which were coming apart at the back of the soles. And he gave us some free food and drinks that night and the next morning before we took off on Day 3.
We got along so well from the moment we met Toshiro, it was as if he was our long-lost friend. I really enjoyed hanging out with him and hope to see him again some day up at his lodge.
Day 3 was the big trudge to the end.
I was fairly eager to continue down the Southern Alps chain for at least another day, but my boots probably weren't going to last much longer and Eric's sunburn was pretty bad. So we decided to stick with the plan we had made before we started the hike on Saturday morning: Two nights, three days. (Both nights, before going to bed, my legs were so tired, I wasn't sure what kind of shape I'd be in the next day. But when I woke up the next day, I felt completely refreshed and was raring to go.)
So this was our last day, and it was going to be a long one. We had to cover about 20 km! Ugh! (Had we decided to keep hiking, we would have stopped at a campsite after 15 km.)
There were two highlights that day: The first was when Eric and I saw a bunch of wild monkeys! (Akinori left the campsite at 5 a.m., whereas Eric and I left at 7 a.m., so Akinori wasn't with us at the time.)
We had driven quickly past two monkeys on the way to the bus stop on Saturday, but this time we were just sitting on the trail, taking a break, when Eric spotted a monkey up ahead, relaxing in the sunshine and having a snack. Soon, we saw some more monkeys. They kept their distance, and we weren't about to interfere with them, so I didn't get any great pictures of them, unfortunately. But it was still exciting to see them.
The second highlight was making it to the top of Shiomi-dake (3047 m or 3052 m, and #17 or #16 on the list, depending on the source). And even though the weather was so overcast that the mountain didn't live up to it's name, which means something like "Mt. See-the-
Salt," i.e., "Mt. See-the-Ocean" (the only salt that I saw was the salt that I rubbed off of my forehead), I was still happy to have climbed her!And it was also good to see Akinori again! I found him resting next to the peak's western summit. (Eric caught up to us about 20 minutes later.)
From there, it was all down, down, down. We did encounter our first bit of bad weather of the trip, not counting the gusting wind on Kita-dake and Ai-no-dake, as it started to rain in the afternoon. But all of us were prepared for that situation and kept dry for the most part. And at 7 p.m., we made it back down to about 1000 meters and the parking lot where, thankfully, Akinori's dad was waiting for us!
And thus ended my first hike in the Japanese Alps.
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