An essential aspects of a life-changing experience abroad is learning how to bring the lessons home, keeping them alive and active in who I am permanently. Still, in these last three weeks being back in Jerz, with so much going on, its almost hard to believe Japan ever happened! But, I'm trying to keep it alive by talking about it, thinking about it... reminding myself of all that I accomplished, and how that can be a part of me, here, now. So, to close this blog, some reflections from JAPAN:
- Everyone knows a positive attitude is important. BUT, that's different from sincerely proving how an experience can be completely altered at the power of a changed perspective. Although this blog is filled with hot spring adventures and the like, the truth is that I didn't like Japan, not at the beginning. Its a place where an American quickly learns, "I am American." A culture so completely opposite in values, beliefs and way of life, one can't possibly become Japanized without sacrificing some essential elements of being American. This contradiction was hard at the beginning, and I found myself being antagonistic to the very-defined culture I was living in. Half way through my Japan experience, something startling occurred where I realized I needed to be a positive force in Japan, and I could do this by truly supporting the society: not criticising, but continually acknowledging the good and being a positive example of something different (a Marina the American approach). The easiest way I found to do this was through my classroom...
-Teaching. Believe it or not, I actually did come to Japan to teach. The great thing about teaching conversation classes is that the teacher can get away with anything. As long as the students are talking, they are learning. I was able to create a classroom geared towards analyzing, debating and sharing opinions in a relaxed atmosphere, very uncommon to the Japanese education system, where the line between teacher and student is very clearly drawn. I pushed the students to use English as a way to share their opinions, express themselves as individuals and develop relationships with their classmates. The last day of class, I realized how important all this was to their lives. The students gave me gifts, wrote thank you cards, and a few even cried as I forced them all to give me a hug (hugging is not a part of Japanese culture!) It was really touching to see the difference I was able to make.
- AYANO! I can't even begin to imagine these three months in Japan without my onsen bud, Ayano. Her cafe was my safe haven in this startling country. I feel so close to her, as not only my best friend in Japan but as the person I could go to with all my questions, and not need to censor my opinions, but speak deeply and sincerely about the cultural differences I was constantly confronted with. Saying goodbye to Ayano, we both knew it wasn't really goodbye and it was so inspiring to see how a three month friendship can go so deep. I needed her in my Japan adjustment, and I also opened up a whole world for her. Our friendship was really beautiful. My last day her grandmother gave me one of her own kimonos, made by her mother (Ayano's great-grandmother)! It was so amazing, communication being translated through Ayano as her grandmother dressed me up in the very kimono she wore for her "Japanese growing up ceremony" at age 19. Her brother and his family were there as well, everyone needing to talk through Ayano to connect with me. It was such a great send-off, being in the presence of a real Japanese family for the first time.
Now I'll close with an embarrassing story: So, as a culture the Japanese are shy. For example, if I smile at a boy my age, he gets flustered and walks the other way. Its quite amusing actually, I like to see how many boys I can scare. One time towards the beginning, I was waiting for an elevator and it opens to be stuffed with a group of drunk Japanese male 20ish year-olds. One motioned for me to come on, and I squeezed in, my back to everyone, and face up against the door. After a few minutes one guy in the back says, "Hi," with a little laughter, and I ignore it. Two seconds later, I get another "Hi," and so still facing the door I say "Hello," met with silence. All I can think is how this is so Japanese.... a guy finally is brave enough to say hello to a foreign girl and she responds, and hes speechless. Or so I thought. Minutes later as I walk down the street, I realize he wasn't saying hi to me at all. He was just whispering to his neighbor friend, saying "Hai," the Japanese word for yes. And I, the weird foreigner who doesn't speak Japanese, randomly out of nowhere yells out "hello" on the elevator. Please laugh at me.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Japanese Friends Equals Japanese Food
I went Thursday morning to the Tsukiji fish market in Tokyo with my new friend, Atsushi... yes, that is his name. At. Sushi. Together. By this I mean that I woke up at 4am to be on a 5am train, met him at 6am, walked through the world's largest and most sought-after fish, and was having a sushi breakfast by 6:45, only to make it back to work (an hour late!) by 10. Now that's how the Japanese do breakfast! And when I say sushi... I mean sushi. Atsushi ordered us 70 dollars worth of sushi. Yes, dollars. And we were in this narrow authentic sushi restaurant, Japanese bar-style, with the waitor thinking it was so funny because he kept handing me more and more sushi, when I thought I was done! A little scary for a non-fish eater like me, but I did it.
A famous Japanese singer even came in and everyone freaked out, of course I didn't know him, but still it was so fun. I was a little bummed to find out that three weeks ago a rule was passed that no more tourists are allowd in the daily 5am tuna auction--- where restaurant agents from the world round come to bid on the largest tuna from that day's catch. We are talking auctioning close to the millions here, seriously, for tuna! I'd had sushi less than five times in my life before this, and now I can say I had it for breakfast... before 7am. There's a first and a last time for everything...
There are some places you just can't go as a foreigner, alone. For example, a traditional Okonomiyaki restaurant. Sliding doors, with some mysterious noises inside, sounds of Japanese... Do I dare enter alone? No! But, last week my marvelous Japanese-Onsen friend, Ayano, took me to the most wonderful 80's restaurant ever. She took me to Kichijoji, her favorite area around Tokyo, and I had Okonomiyaki, Yakisoba and Manju for the first time.... food I have been hearing about from my students since day one. I made them so proud when I came to class and told them I loved it! You sit in low booths with no shoes and the table is a stove and they cook right in front of you... I'm not even going to pretend to explain what it is cause I certainly don't know, but its good! There were Japanese 80's photographs everywhere, this cool balance between traditional food and funky style that happens to be really hard to pull off in this country. Thank you, Ayano!
Japan likes to out-do the world. They take over our holidays, and do them bigger, louder, with more "illuminations" (a word now integrated into every Japanese brain).
Valentines Day made Japan so much money that they decided to also make "White Day," which should really just be called V-DayII, where only boys give girls candy in saying thanks for the candy from last month. A little extreme if you ask me. In addition to holidays, Japan decided to build Tokyo Tower, a copy of the Eiffel Tower. Only, its 12 metres taller. And, in the case that you neglect to notice it, its painted bright orange. Sexy. Not.
The 1st time I went was with my friend Andrew about 2 months ago, but we failed to make it up because we got lost inside the elevator. Yes, it was Willie Wonka style... floors missing from the elevator buttons, going up and then back down but coming out at a completely different place, no where bringing us to the famous view. I went back last weekend, declaring a need to see Mt. Fuji before leaving Japan. Seeing the 1 hr. long wait for the elevator, I opted for option number 2 (for the same price, mind you!): the stairs. Sure, why not? Well, hot damn I will tell you why not, I was out of breath just going up to the 4th floor where the stairs start. Dad, now you're not the only one who can run marathons! I took this picture to show the top stair, quite an accomplishment... 531! 531 what you may ask? Well, I don't quite know. Not important. 531 sounds like a pretty high number, whatever measurement they may be using in this crazy country, point being, it was high! But, well worth it, I saw the sun setting over Tokyo and Fuji-San, and it was unbelievable (picture above, Mt. Fuji to the right). Maybe in Chile and Guatemala I climb volcanoes, but in Tokyo, its an orange tower of metal. Very fitting.
I've also just discovered the joys of Kabuki. Getting day-of, nose bleed balcony seats to watch Japanese men dressed in traditional clothes, performing their version of Shakespeare. I love it... especially watching with a kimono-filled audience.
A famous Japanese singer even came in and everyone freaked out, of course I didn't know him, but still it was so fun. I was a little bummed to find out that three weeks ago a rule was passed that no more tourists are allowd in the daily 5am tuna auction--- where restaurant agents from the world round come to bid on the largest tuna from that day's catch. We are talking auctioning close to the millions here, seriously, for tuna! I'd had sushi less than five times in my life before this, and now I can say I had it for breakfast... before 7am. There's a first and a last time for everything...
There are some places you just can't go as a foreigner, alone. For example, a traditional Okonomiyaki restaurant. Sliding doors, with some mysterious noises inside, sounds of Japanese... Do I dare enter alone? No! But, last week my marvelous Japanese-Onsen friend, Ayano, took me to the most wonderful 80's restaurant ever. She took me to Kichijoji, her favorite area around Tokyo, and I had Okonomiyaki, Yakisoba and Manju for the first time.... food I have been hearing about from my students since day one. I made them so proud when I came to class and told them I loved it! You sit in low booths with no shoes and the table is a stove and they cook right in front of you... I'm not even going to pretend to explain what it is cause I certainly don't know, but its good! There were Japanese 80's photographs everywhere, this cool balance between traditional food and funky style that happens to be really hard to pull off in this country. Thank you, Ayano!
Japan likes to out-do the world. They take over our holidays, and do them bigger, louder, with more "illuminations" (a word now integrated into every Japanese brain).
Valentines Day made Japan so much money that they decided to also make "White Day," which should really just be called V-DayII, where only boys give girls candy in saying thanks for the candy from last month. A little extreme if you ask me. In addition to holidays, Japan decided to build Tokyo Tower, a copy of the Eiffel Tower. Only, its 12 metres taller. And, in the case that you neglect to notice it, its painted bright orange. Sexy. Not.
The 1st time I went was with my friend Andrew about 2 months ago, but we failed to make it up because we got lost inside the elevator. Yes, it was Willie Wonka style... floors missing from the elevator buttons, going up and then back down but coming out at a completely different place, no where bringing us to the famous view. I went back last weekend, declaring a need to see Mt. Fuji before leaving Japan. Seeing the 1 hr. long wait for the elevator, I opted for option number 2 (for the same price, mind you!): the stairs. Sure, why not? Well, hot damn I will tell you why not, I was out of breath just going up to the 4th floor where the stairs start. Dad, now you're not the only one who can run marathons! I took this picture to show the top stair, quite an accomplishment... 531! 531 what you may ask? Well, I don't quite know. Not important. 531 sounds like a pretty high number, whatever measurement they may be using in this crazy country, point being, it was high! But, well worth it, I saw the sun setting over Tokyo and Fuji-San, and it was unbelievable (picture above, Mt. Fuji to the right). Maybe in Chile and Guatemala I climb volcanoes, but in Tokyo, its an orange tower of metal. Very fitting.
I've also just discovered the joys of Kabuki. Getting day-of, nose bleed balcony seats to watch Japanese men dressed in traditional clothes, performing their version of Shakespeare. I love it... especially watching with a kimono-filled audience.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Livin' the Japan Life
There are two ways to understand a culture. The first involves constant action- going places. In the case of Japan; temples, Buddha statues, crazy Tokyo crosswalks with hundreds of people, fish markets, hot springs, etc. This is what I spent my first month and a half doing in hopes to understand Japan. This was back when I actually believed "Japan isn't that different." I've hit a new mark now, and my further growth in learning about this (very foreign!) culture has less to do with going places, as it does with real living in the place around me. I'll give two such recent examples.
Last week I went to a nearby park, looking for a good place to sit and read (yes, its still warm here!) There was a probably kindergarten class playing nearby-- throwing hand made boomerangs (pronounced boomeran-go), full body yelling as only children can do, etc. I was enjoying watching them, and felt pretty unnoticed. Suddenly, one brave little Japanese 5 year old marches her way over to me, her belly popping out of her shirt, and starts blabbering to me in Japanese. I mean, even after I said my typical "wakarimasen" (I don't understand), she kept going for another good three or four minutes, talking away. I finally realized she was (maybe?) asking where I am from. I questioningly said, "America?" Answer correct. My reward? She turns around, starts yelling at the top of her lungs in Japanese, the last word being America. That was the cue for the rest of the class to drop what they are doing and run full speed towards me, where I was then smothered in Japanese children shouts and laughter. The sun was blinding me, looking up at them, but still all I could see were the most adorable Japanese faces ever. I attempted a Japanese, "I'm an English teacher," which was enough to allow the shouts of "nice to meet you" and "my name is" repeatedly. Each kid yelled that at me probably a good ten times, each time as if it were the first- they were so proud! The boys started throwing grass on my head, the girls picking me flowers (which are on now my desk!) When one girl jumped on my back, nearly choking me in the process, the teacher didn't quite know what to do. I loved every minute of it. I would point to a girl's shirt and say "yellow" and that would be their sign to start yelling out the colors for all they could see. Then I pointed to a dog in the distance, and again the same- suddenly there they go, full energy, yelling and impersonating animals in English. It made me wish I were teaching children. But, more importantly, it was such a beautiful example to how "children are children."
As time goes on here I'm seeing more and more how the Japanese mentality, value structure, view of the world, way of living... is just so NOT American. (I refer to this as "the way of the tea," a phrase I jokingly use as the excuse to everything different. It's modelled after my tea ceremony teacher, who uses this phrase to answer each and every one of my questions beginning with "why.")
And I've spent a lot of time comparing these two contradictory systems and looking where my values lay and why, and also which best promotes the better individual (these conclusions will be in-person discussions when I return!) But, after all this recent thinking, it was so nice to have a completely natural encounter with the most unified of all this beautiful Earth-- that of children. Japanese children aren't yet Japanese in personality, mentality, and so forth. They aren't restricted by anything. They are free. And in that, they share something with all children of the world. It was simply glorious to witness this so clearly, so freely... and in the place that I live. It connects me to that park, that metro station... makes me feel that little bit less like an outsider and more a part of the community around me.
Another example is a few days ago when I went to Asakusa, an area of Tokyo with one of Japan's famous temples. I had been in the day but wanted to see it at night, lit up in the dark. I was standing there taking a picture of some beautiful lanterns when a business man says to me in almost perfect English, "do you know what you are taking a picture of?" He goes on to explain to me how back in the day lanterns were used as a source of light but now they are just advertisements. So, what I thought was so beautiful is nothing more than a beer company's ad! We had a good laugh. He ended up taking me around the whole temple telling me all kinds of things I wouldn't have known otherwise. Like, for example, on the entrance way there is a big hand-made shoe for a god (picture below) and if you touch it you are supposed to gain the qualities of being a good worker. But its high. So, he showed me how to climb, jump up, touch it, and jump back down. I think he was a little shocked when after he showed me I seriously said "ok, my turn!" We had a good talk about religion, as he is a Buddhist converted Christian. All these encounters just help me realize there is more to a place than marking off on a check-list the "must see" of a country.
Monday, November 10, 2008
JAPAN MEETS TWILIGHT ZONE
So, there is a big difference between living in a foreign country and living the active and ever-changing adventure mode of the traveler. Here in Japan, I am very much set in the "I live here and so want to do nothing but relax on my weekends" mode. I really like to spend my weekends in bed, emerging mid-morning to eat my favorite Japanese 'Curry Pan' (basically, a curry filled donut which I go 2 metro stops to get) maybe do a few errands, go sit by my temple, etc. And there is no one to stop me from spending my weekends this way. Well, except for the little traveler inside me going "you can do so much better than this. You are in Japan. Seek out adventure." So, in the name of my traveler-self, I sometimes push myself to seek out some little form of adventure. Last weekend I went above and beyond and did what while traveling would be quite normal. I heard someone talk about a place called Nikko a few hours outside of Tokyo, went online, found the cheapest hostel in this "touristy" mountain town outside of the city, made a reservation and decided to go.
I arrived in Nikko on a Friday evening and got right on my bus to the hostel. But what I didn't know was that my hostel was ON THE TOP of a mountain. Literally. I didn't quite know what was meant when the English voice recording in the bus loudly boomed, "take careful. bus sways. hold on to children." Ummm, ok?!?!? Literally, the bus drove alongside the edge of this mountain, going in upward circles with the destination: the lake. Can someone who is good at science please explain how there can be a decent-sized lake on top of a mountain? (I was left out in the cold bus stop... the wrong bus stop... half bewildered by this, half scared that I would be lost forever.) I finally found my hostel, 'Hotel Asian Garden: Classic Indian Accommodations.' I enter and they hand me a piece of paper with my name and reservation info on it. Magic... they know me? Then, they bring me into the 23-bedded room and, oh, not a single bed is taken. "Just me?" I ask them. "No, no no! One other person is coming." Great. Me, and all these hostel men. And one "other person." They all took me to the Japanese onsen, so I could know where to bathe naked. My thoughts exactly- I need to get out of here NOW. I leave, ready to take in the nightlife. I stroll down the street and what do you know... not only am I the only guest at the hostel- I am the only person in the whole freaking town! Everything was closed-- no, more like deserted-- except a few restaurants, with bored looking waiters. I walk in the nicest looking place, opting for a classy meal as a distraction from the fact that this could be the sketchiest place in all of Japan and what is my response, "uhhh, sorry, no... only for guest."
Three more restaurants, same response. They won't serve me because I don't stay at their corresponding hotel. And they know I don't stay at their corresponding hotel because they, too, have memorized the people (if any!) staying with them. Does this make any sense? I walked out on the dock of the lake and realized how eerie this place was. It was 6 o'clock on a Friday night but it literally felt like 2am, me all alone on this rickety dock, not a person in sight, the moon shining bright, wind blowing in my face. It was so eerie, total Twilight Zone material. Guess I am going to spend my evening at the Indian $16 buffet (their only option... therefore my only option.) Just as I walk in I meet eyes with the other traveler who has just shown up. The next chapter of my weekend: we meet Sophie. 25. English. Solo traveler for a year. Me likey. She runs up to me, "This place is so scary, I was about to call my mum and cry!"... we clung to each other while chatting all night, through to the next morning, and I will be meeting up with her soon when she comes to Tokyo and is forced to be my first house guest.
I must say, after all this madness, the next day I went back down the mountain and saw the most amazing temples and gardens. The temples of Nikko were constructed by "the warlord who took control of all Japan and established the shogunate that ruled for more than 250 years, until the Meiji Restoration ended the feudal era." (Lonely Planet, thanks). Basically, everything was covered in gold and bronze and elaborately lavished with anything screaming THIS WAS BUILT WITH MONEY. Plus, the 5-story pagoda was amazing. I was standing still at one of these temples, crowds of people swarming around me to get closer (at these moments I usually just stop and pretend to be a statue as people rush around me) and suddenly a Japanese woman with a purple flag passes me SPEAKING SPANISH, followed by about 20 people from Espana. Well, could anything have made me happier? I followed them in the back and understood what I could. It was the first encounter with Spanish I have had in 2 months, and it made me really happy.
To top this all off, on Sunday I met up with the Prin abroad group. It was so amazing to see people from camp. As Andrew said afterward, "I forgot what its like to talk for so long and be understood and
not constantly have to explain to people why what I just said was funny." Too true, too true. Shoutout to all you wonderful people who gave me my most social day in Japan yet!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Kimonos, smiling moons, and all things Japan
A few days before I left for Japan I read in a letter from a friend, "Don't forget to look up at the stars and moons, all are looking at you." Well, its true. Every morning and night I open my window, look outside and say hello to the day or goodnight to the moon, whispering "Goodnight Magic Japan Land." And it really is magic. I've spent more time looking out that window at the street ahead of me--- a huge neon-yellow sign advertising a "family-style" restaurant spinning in circles, quickly blinding me every fourth of a second, people walking to the train, people on their bikes, a busy intersection and the random house I live behind and can spy on. It was during the first week here that I caught a glimpse of the moon early one evening- say, around 5 o'clock, pm. I love those early moons, when its still light out. I realized it was 1am for my California people, the night before. I pictured them looking at the same moon, at that same moment, only, a day before. I still can't get over this, and can't seem to grasp my head around the moon's largeness. It's the biggest thing I think I have ever seen, yet I can't even see its bigness. So weird. One day last week my mom called me from skype (from the US,) it was 10am for me, and 9pm for her the night before. As we are talking my dear friend Reynolds skype-messaged her, thinking it was me. Reynolds is Indonesian but getting his masters in Scotland at the moment. So, at the same time the 3 of us were communicating from 3 different time zones- night for her in the US, middle of the night for him in Scotland, and the next day for me, Japan. I think it was a little mind boggling for all three of us.
I go to my favorite cafe about once a week to talk with my hot-springing waitress friend, Ayano. As I am leaving this week she says very nonchalant, "Oh I told my grandmother about you, and how you are interested in Japanese culture, and she wants to give you her kimono that she doesn't wear anymore. But its heavy, maybe you don't want it?" OK THAT IS THE MOST INCREDIBLE THING I HAVE EVER HEARD! I am going to adopt a kimono from my Japanese friend's grandmother in Japan. Killer.
So, the more I travel I have come to realize that cool-ness really is relative. I do believe that we are told what is cool, and then we think it is ourselves deciding it, opposed to the consumer culture we live in and support by buying, only continuing this process. Like, for example, doggie clothes. Yes, doggie clothes. Those grandmas in NYC who have little Chihuahuas and put clothes on them. And its not cool. BUT, they are grandmas, so they have an excuse. Can someone please tell me what is the excuse for the millions of Japanese people who think its cool to buy wardrobes for their animals??? I have seen everything... jean overalls with a red and white stripped shirt underneath, leather, yes yes LEATHER, its all here. People (everyone!) put clothes on their dogs. Its a scary version of 101 Dalmatians where the dogs match the owners- here, you will see a dude with slicked hair and dark sunglasses, a leather jacket to prove his toughness, and who is next to him but his little dog Binkie, with matching clothes. And he's cool for it.
Japan has a reputation for being technologically advanced. And, well, its true! Every cell phone in existence not only has internet, but you can watch TVs on your cellies. But, for my favorite example: so, there are different forms of payment for the subway/my above-ground train. You can put a little piece of paper in the machine and it spits it back out on the other side, or else you buy a pass that you keep re-charging and swipe as you walk into the subway. Just last weekend I was telling my friend-from-home-living-in-Tokyo-friend Andrew how I get this secret adrenaline rush every time I leave the train and I can feel eyes surprised that I am getting out in the middle of no-wheres-ville an hour outside of Tokyo and when I take out this pass and swipe it I feel like really I am yelling to everyone, "ha! I am no tourist- I live here, so there!!!!" Well, I got schooled, because not only do you not need to take the credit-card looking pass out of your bag at all, but I have discovered the machine seems to recognize it through all the millions of contents in your bag! So, instead of fumbling around in your bag looking for this one thing, you walk by, lift up your bag that has your whole life inside it, and MAGIC, the machine beeps and you can go through. I'm sorry but really- is this simple thing not so amazing? A machine that can detect a little piece of plastic inside your bag?????
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Japanese Tea Ceremony
"What did you do last night?"... I ask every student this, every day. Yes, it gets annoying. BUT, sometimes they tell me something cool. Like, 2 weeks ago, when a few students said in their (very!) broken English, "tea ceremony class in dormitory." Ohhhh realllly?!?!?!?!??! They weren't able to tell me much, but did mention that their tea-ceremony teacher speaks English. I mentioned that I would love to talk to her and the next day my student Yuka comes in all shy and quiet, looking into space deep in thought and finally says, "here is number, you call my teacher today, she wait for you call." Turns out I can't make calls on my phone, also turns out my student took out hers and called for me, I had a talk with their teacher and vwalla, magic, I have a plan to meet her.
I thought I was just going to meet her in the hallway before she taught the dorm class, have a quick convo about the logistics: how much she charges for a class, etc. No no, its never that simple in Japan. At the end of the day my students bring me into the dorms... great, no shoes aloud, not like I have a complex about my feet smelling or anything... then we go upstairs and there is a freakin TEA ROOM in the dorm. This is what I am talking about with the Japanese culture being hidden. Everything on surface level is pretty much the same- students walking in jeans and t-shirts with books, going to class, etc. But then amongst it all, hiding, secret, a tea room! The sliding doors are opened by the teacher in full out kimono, mats covering the floor, 7 students rehearsing how to run the ceremony and I spend the next hour and a half sitting with them watching, praying I don't miss the last bus and wondering why I never knew that it is this painful to sit on your knees for so long. The whole thing really was incredible- how serious the students took it, how everything is so about tradition. For example, when I got to try the (BITTER) tea that one of the students made (literally, made. Grounded tea in a bowl) my instructions are as follows: "First you hold with this hand, then you turn clockwise twice, then u bow your head and lift up the bowl in thanks, then you sip, then you turn it in your hands the other way and wipe where you touched it in this manner".... etc., etc.
So, at the end of class she tells me she would love to give me one-on-one classes 3 times a month. How is tomorrow to start? Apparently, I'm learning about Japanese tea. Last night after work I found myself wandering in the dark trying to find her house and when i finally take my chances and ring a doorbell, a sliding door opens with her in a now different kimono, bowing to me, as I look into a whole house of Japanese-ness. I mean, everything was screaming Japansese. It was like being at the MET for a Japanese exhibition, seriously.
Everything is a ceremony, and everything I do is wrong. The way you walk into a strangers house, the way you take your shoes off and how you make your first step into the hallway--- it all MUST be done in a certain way. And it all includes being really graceful and formal, bowing a lot and looking at the appropriate place at the appropriate time. It was amazing. I spent 2 hours with this woman, and she refuses to charge me for the first lesson. She mainly taught me the different ways to bow (very important to do the right one at the right time!), and the proper way to enter the room. Its very particular how you open the door and pull yourself onto the tatami mats, sliding your body on your knees to your established position in the room. The way to stand up and sit down is the best. Basically, its Japanese tea aerobics for me- you go from your knees (which fell asleep 20 minutes ago) to standing, all in one smooth motion, as if you are being pulled up by a string. Not easy.
She has been studying/ teaching tea for 48 years. 48 years! No wonder she can sit on her knees for 2 straight hours, 10 minutes for me and literally I am sore as I write this. I'm still so confused about so much, but what I gather from her is that "the way of tea" is a philosophy- a way of thinking- and the tea ceremony is just one reflection of this. She also showed me the Buddhist shrine in her house, which honestly looked just like any ordinary chest in a house, but when she opened it, I saw that its filled with little statues and offerings and a bell that she kneels under and dings every morning. I saw her rice offering from that morning. When it was time for me to leave, she walked me to her corner in her kimono, including the wooden shoes. As I left her in the misty rain, I kept turning around and there she was, still standing on the corner bowing continually until I was out of her sight. There is still so much to learn...
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Japanese Onsen (Hot Spring!)
When I started chatting with the Japanese waitress who speaks English at my fav nearby cafe, I felt lucky to have met her. Then, the 2nd time I go she mentions that we should hang. Wow, a Japanese friend in the making- I love it! What I didn't have in mind is that in Japan its very appropriate for newly found friends to travel to the mountains together to cleanse their body and soul in natural hot springs, and, well, of course- naked!... welcome to my day yesterday!
Ayano- my waitress friend- is basically the coolest Japanese woman in all of Japan. When she invited me to go to a hot spring with her, I had no idea what this meant, other than the fact that I would be bathing naked with small, flat, tiny Japanese women- clearly I'd fit in so nothing to worry about! Um, right. So, ok, this part turned out to be as expected. BUT, what I didn't know and was happily surprised to find out is that this place was what (I imagine!) a spa to be. We went to Hakone- the mountain region outside of Tokyo, and then took a bus up into the mountains. Everyone leaves their shoes outside, and you enter into this all wood and tsunami matted reception room--- incense burning, sounds of waterfalls, etc. First we hit up the restaurant- which was so Japanese. We sat on mats on the floor and I had my first sushi- salmon, not bad! We ordered shrimp and I nearly shrieked when what is placed in front of us but a plate full of little shrimp faces- with eyes, antennas and all and Ayano just plops the whole thing in her mouth! Me? Um, hell no.
Then we pass through all these corridors and rooms for people to sleep- literally, its just these open areas with mats for people to lay down and rest, and then finally, we get to the hot springs. You step outside and it was BEAUTIFUL. We were up against the bottom of a big, green, luscious mountain of moss, with natural hot water dripping down in little water falls into different pools, all made of natural rock sizing from a jacuzzi size to baby-pool size. People went from one bath to the next, each having their own unique atmosphere- for example one had a cave with crazy amounts of natural steam, since the water was so damn hot. Of course there are also benches around for cool-down breaks, where sadly I spent most of my time as the water was TOO hot! There were families, friends, old, young-- everyone very peaceful and quiet, having their own meditating experience amongst natural beauty, hot water and the naked bodies of strangers! It was really freeing and had a very Zen-esqu feeling, like everyone was one with nature. As if this wasn't enough, we ended the day with massage chairs and Hakone's famous dessert- basically, bean curd balls. Smushed between pancakes I can handle, but solo... I pretended to like it.
The best thing of all was spending time with my new friend. We spent hours cracking up at the random things we think are cool about each other's cultures, that to us seem ordinary. This is all started when I asked her if she has ever eaten outside. She got all excited, like a giddy school girl, "oh oh oh I want to do this so bad, I see in movies, it looks sooo fun" "Well, why don't you," I answer. Her response? "No, no, never... I just can't!" I was laughing for a good 10 minutes. (Reference to my previous entry). I told her about PB and J and mac and cheese, both of which she had never heard of--- I'm planning on making her both. She made a comment about my BIC pen and how there is a shop in Tokyo that sells American things and they sell the pens for 200 yen (2 dollars!) I told her they are cheap nothing pens in the US and she shrieked with shock. I asked her what else they sell and- get this- she says "you know... cute things... like, bathroom spray." I'm sorry but what??? "Yay, I love American bathroom spray, the packaging is so cute, not like Japan bathroom spray." I have no idea what the hell she is talking about.
Also, she took me to this store in Tokyo that is famous for their sweet potato (see pic to believe)- I ordered plain and purple flavored... the sweet potato ice cream they make in Kamakura is made from that purple "sweet potato." Oh, which reminds me, when I was talking to Ayano I did a quotation mark sign with my hands and she goes "I see people do this in the movies, what does it mean?" I couldn't quite explain but then became really, really aware of how often I lift my fingers and make quotation marks with my hands... hello weirdness that I never noticed before! Then she goes, "also, I see in the movies people have cluttered rooms with stuff everywhere! It looks cool to me so I tried it but I couldn't take it, I had to clean it!" Basically, the typical girls room in the US- posters everywhere, clothes on the floor, bottle collections and books piling up everywhere--- is so, so opposite to the Japanese standards of pure order and refinement, so it looks foreign, and therefore cool.
Oh man--- and the best part is that she is going home to her husband explaining equally weird things that I said about her culture. Like, when I told her that sushi is trendy in the US and people use sayonara as an alternative to peace out- she had no clue! And when I excitedly showed her my Japanese bookmark made of traditional paper thinking she would be impressed and she laughed and basically said that she would never buy something like that. So funny. The cafe she works at is owned by her mother and I'm going over on Monday after work because there is a temple ceremony that every Japanese baby experiences when they turn 3. Her niece is having hers on Monday and afterwards they are going to go to the cafe to take pictures of her in her $250 rented kimono and I'm invited!
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