Saturday, June 27, Evening, with Perry

The night was completely clear for once. Nagasaki is supposed to have the second best night view in the world. So before we left for Kyoto, I was determined to get up to Mount Inasa. Tonight was that night.

I asked the hotel front desk for walking directions to the ropeway that would take us up the mountain. I did this a couple years ago; I knew it could be done.

But when I asked the concierge, I don't think she understood what I was asking, and I don't think I fully understood her response. She told me we needed a bus reservation to go up, but it was too late tonight. But she said we could take a taxi to get up there. This was at least a five minute conversation, exchanging several confused looks with explanations ending in ellipses.

I was tempted to try again to get directions to walk to the ropeway, or just try to remember the route from my previous visit but that may take a lot of time...

NO TIME! I decided. Off we went to get a cab. There was no way I was going to miss Mount Inasa. 

No. Way.

The concierge gave me a flyer, all in Japanese, about Mount Inasa. So, predicting that we would not be able to fully communicate with the driver, I whipped out the flyer, "Mount Inasa."

Driver: (pointing at the flyer) "Inasa?"

Me: "Hai!"

Driver: (mumbling something, then looked at me) "Inasa??"

Me: (resolutely) "Hai."

He gave me the flyer back and started driving. He was speaking in the clearest Japanese possible. We understand not even a syllable of what he's saying.

"Nani?" I ask cautiously.

Then he did something that I thought only Americans did: he spoke to us in Japanese louder. He was definitely trying to explain a concern he had about our ride, but we couldn't understand. At stoplights on the way, he continued to help us understand.

I started to get a bad feeling. This man was trying so hard to help us get up a mountain and we were sitting in the backseat thinking, "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. WHAT DO WE DO NOW?!" The inconvenience for him was too much for our consciences to handle. And it is not okay in any way to tip in Japan, so we couldn't pay him extra for his effort. I forgot all of my small gifts at the hotel, so I had nothing to give him as thanks.

But the ride didn't stop there because then he CALLED A FRIEND to ask for directions and possibly to find out if he can, in fact, drive us up a mountain.

After a few minutes he hung up, and halfway up the mountain, he pulled over asking for the flyer back. Then he started explaining something to us again. He pointed at a time table on the paper, then waited for us to respond.

Perry: "What should we do?"

Me: (as calmly as possible) "I don't know what our options are." (Translation: "I am flipping out inside too f@$#ing much right now to make that decision.")

Perry calmly explained to me the options because he understood.

Me: "That's what he said?"

Perry: "I don't know but it sounds right."

Me: "It sounds right?"

Perry: "Well I don't know either!"

Me: "I thought you understood him?"

Perry: "I never said that."

Me: "Ugh...." (to the driver) "...gomenasai, gomenasai." (Translates to: "I'm sorry, we are young and stupid; we thought we could do anything.")

The driver repeated what seem to be the same options.

We got wrapped up in a short irritated back and forth in hushed whispers, with frequent "gomenasai" and "I'm sorry" to the driver.

Finally, it was said.

Perry: "Should we just go back to the hotel?"

Me: "...fine."

Perry told the driver to go back to the hotel.

Driver: "JR Hotel?"

Perry: "Hai."

Me: "GOMENASAAAIIIIII!" I was fighting back tears.

The driver laughed and said something in Japanese that sounded like I don't need to apologize. He turned the car around and headed back down the mountain.

But he didn't take us back to the hotel. He dropped us off at the bus station that takes people to Mount Inasa. He laughed some more. We got out of the taxi and went to look at a time table that was completely in Japanese. After a minute:

Me: "Is he gone yet?"

Perry: "Yes, but it's not a big deal. He still got paid and now he has a good story to tell his friends. Let's go back."

We headed back, but Perry stopped, "Let's go the other way so we don't have to see him again and embarrass ourselves more."

It cost us $18 to go halfway up a mountain.

Sunday, June 28, Late Afternoon with Perry

Today is our last day in Nagasaki.

After visiting Sachiko-san, Etsuko-san insisted on a visit to her house. This was my first time in a Japanese home. It was small. It made our house look like a mansion. There was little to no property, aside from the driveway.

We entered and she laid out slippers in front of us. She even had slippers that fit Perry's feet, a "feet" in and of itself if you will. I cannot believe I just typed that.

We sat down in her dining room and she fed us Japanese cherries and a snack that is popular someplace east of Nagasaki.

She talked about the plants covering her windows. It was a soft vine of some sort. She explained that it was a plant that the Japanese use because it absorbed the heat during summer, keeping buildings cooler and thus conserving energy. She said she didn't have an air conditioner in her home, but it was a comfortable temperature inside.

She showed us little shot glass sized bottles of American liquor, explaining the significance of each one. And then began pulling out other very small things that held so much meaning to her. 

She wanted to take us out to dinner so much, but we already made plans to meet Kaho later. I started to catch on that Etsuko-san was attempting to thank us for some reason. I had a nice gift for her as gratitude for taking the time to meet with us for almost an entire day. But I hesitated giving it to her at that point. I didn't want to make her feel obligated to reciprocate even more.

Gift-giving can be really tricky in Japan. A small gift costing a couple dollars at most is expected for those who help. But, give too much of a gift, the obligation to reciprocate could throw two people into a unending gifting trap.

Finally, I decided to give her a small gift instead. It was a small log cabin incense burner that smelled of the trees in northern Minnesota. I'm not a fan, but I thought it would be a good gift for people who don't frequent Minnesota. It has the smell and included the history of settlers in the state. This was one of my tiny gifts I brought for people who helped us. I had several in my suitcase and had to battle the smell off my clothes.

But they were worth the smelly clothes. Etsuko-san loved it. She tore off the tape and sat it on her small buffet. Then she wanted to know how to get more. She even made Fumiko-san use her tablet to look up the website from where we ordered them.

Then, she decided to thank us even though we inconvenienced her. Etsuko-san ran to another room. I started to panic. I messed up. I shouldn't have given her anything. I asked her if I gave too much, but Fumiko-san said that it was fine, that she wanted to do it. I should accept her gifts. She seemed to suggest this is just how Etsuko-san is.

She came back with an antique necklace with a magnifying glass. I felt uncomfortable. Again Fumiko-san waved it off. But Etsuko-san left again only to come back with more.

They were two tiny stuffed bunnies with long ears, wearing a kimono. Etsuko-san explained that the kimono fabric was originally a human one from the Edo period (1603 - 1868). Meaning that the fabric was possibly as old as a Shakespeare play and maybe as new as the US Civil War.

I said that was amazing, but did not make a move to touch them. She pushed them across the table towards Perry and I, "Please take."

There was a melt down in my head at that moment. It was way too much. I couldn't give her another gift because then she'd want to give more, but it would be terribly rude to decline.

I looked at Fumiko-san hoping she would intervene. Without looking up from the tablet, she said, "Such a great gift to remember this day!" Maybe she noticed the sweat running down my face. She finally looked up and added, "She wants you to remember her and her sister."

It was then that I finally got it; I misunderstood the entire afternoon. This would have happened regardless of the incense cabin. It wasn't that she was thankful for that. It was that this day meant  so much to her. I realized that she was happy that I wanted to meet Sachiko-san and present the cranes from my students. In her eyes, I already provided a gift.

I still did not want to accept those bunnies. I didn't deserve that much.

....we ended up leaving with them anyway, mostly because Fumiko-san forced us to.

As we left, I thought about Etsuko-san's house. It was small. But because it was small, it made the things inside her home much more meaningful. The things she kept in her home had to be the most important things in her life.

What things in my house are most important to me? What do I keep as memories of my life? If I only had so much space, what are the most valuable things I would keep to remember my friends and family?

Sunday, June 28, Afternoon with Perry

This afternoon, we went to meet Sachiko-san. Sachiko-san is a woman who survived the atomic bomb in Nagasaki. She was under 10 years old and playing outside with friends. She was nearly killed, by inhalation and suffocation, from the dirt and debris that piled on top of her.

My friend, Caren, is writing a book about her life. She has been working on it for many, many years. She allowed my after school students to read a copy of the manuscript she sent to the publisher. I planned to visit Sachiko-san on behalf of my students. I'll get to that later.

But first, we ran into Anne Prescott and John Frank! These two guided me through my first tour of Japan in 2013. They are staying at the same hotel we are. I felt bad for Perry because just as we got on the up escalator, Anne was half way down, I quickly pushed Perry back off with no explanation, then started waving wildly at the escalator. We talked a bit about our trips and tried to set up time to meet later next week. I don't think it will be possible though. We both figured since Perry and I are leaving for Narita on July 4th, and they had rigid schedules for the first and second days they arrived (the 3rd and 4th). It's too bad; it would have been fun to see each other again later.

In the afternoon, we went with Miyanishi-san to the Nagasaki Symphony Orchestra concert. Miyanishi-san is in the orchestra!  He plays the clarinet. It was an amazing experience with such talented musicians.

Miyanishi-san had us sit next to a woman we did not know, but she quickly started talking to us. She knew who I was. This woman was Etsuko-san (sp?), Sachiko-san's younger sister. She seemed happy to take us to see her sister.

After the concert, we went to see see Sachiko-san at the assisted care building she lives at. We, literally, went up a mountain to get to her.

Etsuko-san was very nice, but was a bit surprised by my age. I think she was expecting someone at least 30 years older. I hope I did okay. I was very grateful to her for spending so much of the day with me. Fumiko-san drove us, and conversed in a lot of Japanese with Etsuko-san. I heard "Maggie-san" a lot, but I'm not sure why.

Meeting Sachiko-san was more overwhelming than I thought it would be. She does not read or speak English; I asked a friend of mine, Keiko - who is also working with Caren on translating Sachiko-san's story into Japanese - to translate a letter I wrote to her. The letter is as follows:

Dear Sachiko,

I am a teacher at a school in St. Paul, Minnesota. This was the first year we created the peace club at Hmong Academy. Caren gave us a manuscript of your story. She said that she wanted to know what young people thought about it. So, last fall the students read your story.

I would like to share some information about our students. They are children and grandchildren of the Vietnam war. Their families fought for the United States in Laos. The Lao government ordered for all Hmong to be killed. Their families ran from their homes through the jungles hiding from the Lao military. The United States did not help them. Many people died escaping while crossing the Mekong River where Lao military sat in trees and shot them. They went to refugee camps in Thailand.

Then they came to the US to live. Their families knew no English. Again, the US did not help. Many Americans were, and still are, mean to them. They think the Hmong are somehow poor and stupid people. St. Paul has one of the highest populations of Hmong people. The Hmong are adapting and  rising to success, but they are losing their language and culture. This year is the 40th anniversary of their migration to the US. This same year it has been 70 years since the atomic bombing in Nagasaki.

I wanted to share this with you because I think one of the reasons our students loved your story was because it was very personal. They too lost many loved ones, their homes completely destroyed and confronted discrimination. They had to start over in a place that was completely different than before.

Thank you so much, Sachiko, for teaching our students about strength and resilience, about overcoming terrible things. After reading your story, I think many of the students started the healing process for their families' and the school. You have truly inspired a group of children across the ocean and helped them envision a world of friendship-making.

Please accept these 1000 cranes. After reading about you, the students decided this was the one thing they could do to thank you. The students worked on them throughout the winter and spring. They recruited friends, family and classmates. They shared your story and started the healing process for other families in their community. Although only a few have read your story, it has reached so many people. You have become such a large part of these students' lives in a way that has forever transformed them into leaders, peacekeepers and global friends to you and Nagasaki.

Thank you so very much for doing what so few can.

Many of my students do not enjoy reading. But most students read Sachiko in one night. One stayed in for Halloween so he could finish it. I cannot communicate how much these kids loved and appreciated the story of Sachiko-san's life. Some students wrote her letters that Keiko also translated. Fumiko-san read those too. We did not stay long, but it still makes me feel lightening bolts of excitement when I think about it.

The journey of the cranes was a worrysome one. In Ueno, I had to send the cranes ahead to Nagasaki in a flimsy travel bag with the rest of my luggage due to the limited space on the trains between Tokyo, Kyoto and Nagasaki. The man working for the delivery company came to pick up the bags, but spoke absolutely no English. The one person in our group who could interpret was drowning in questions by the other travel members.

After an increasingly frustrating conversation between two people who did not understand each other at all, I finally just ripped the bag open and showed him the paper cranes. The carrier nodded, took the bag from my hands and put it on his pile.

I wasn't sure we were able to communicate our thoughts. But when we arrived in our hotel room, on the table sat a box. I opened it and there was the bag of cranes in perfect condition. The delivery guy had packed them for us, free of charge.

I'm not sure what it is about paper cranes. They are just folded pieces of paper but create so much understanding that it doesn't matter if anything was ever spoken at all.

The cranes now hang in Sachiko-san's shared room.

Sunday, June 28, Morning with Perry

My first post of this morning did not save, so I had to write it again. Forgive me for being short.

This morning we went to the Nagasaki Peace Park. It was already hot with 80% humidity at 8:30 AM. But it was sunny. It wasn't raining so the park was perfect. I forgot my umbrella back at the hotel in Ueno, which seems like months ago now. I finally bought another on our first day in Nagasaki. It was one for both rain and sun. And, since I forgot my sun glasses at a restaurant back in Kyoto, the umbrella provided some shade for my eyes this morning.

We got "Nagasaki ice cream." It was so good! The man scooped it in a way that, by the time he was finished, it looked like a rose. Then he made a second one for Perry. It was just a scoop. He smiled and said, "ladies only."

We walked around the the park, looking at the different statues and structures that were donated to the city of Nagasaki as a symbol of friendship. The one from the US was made by a St. Paul artist. He made two identical structures: One for Minnesota and one for Nagasaki.

We approached one statue in the park. It had a drawn color picture taped to it. There were two vases of flowers next to it. There was a bucket of water beside the vases. An old man, who we assumed was a gardener for the park, approached the display. He smiled like he was happy to see people stopping to look at the picture. In Japanese, he said "good morning."

From the little Japanese I know, this is what I think he was telling us. The statue was made for him. He survived the atomic bombing because of some metal poles that mostly shielded him from the blast. The posts on the statue represent the ones that saved him. The picture was something that he created to show what he most remembers of that day. He was outside walking to work when it happened; he just happened to be next to the poles that mostly shielded him, but was knocked out. When he woke up he saw every building around him in flames. People's clothes had been burned off or melted into their skin, if their skin had not melted off of their bodies already. He was 15 years old when it happened.

He said he comes every day to water the flowers. He invited us to water the flowers too. We were lucky to have met him and to have heard his story of survival.

Saturday, June 27, with Perry

After the dance recital, we went to the Atomic Bomb Museum. Perry went through it twice in one day: Once on his own, and once with me. It must have been hard to go through it alone, yet I think it's something that must be done alone. But knowing there are familiar people nearby sharing the same experience is comforting.

On his second tour, we went with a couple other people, including an 11 year old. Even she stayed as long as she could. She said the most important part for her was listening to the survivors of those who were exposed to radiation. They had interviews of Americans who were exposed to radiation during the Cold War too.

I don't know if the second time around was just as difficult for Perry. He is not great at expressing his thoughts and feelings with me. But it was something, I think, that he was still processing. He did say the science and technology exhibits were most important to him.

It is interesting that in America we feel the need to protect children from historic violence. They never grow up fully understanding the full depth and effects of real violence. We don't read narratives of survivors of WWI and II or the Vietnam War (aside from The Things They Carried, which is usually read in 11th grade). We say it is too scary for them. Their first and closest exposure comes from the joy and satisfaction of graphically violent video games. Globally, the US, for other reasons as well, has a shocking amount of violent crime.

In Japan, students are exposed to the historical trauma of war at very young ages. We saw many elementary and middle school age students at the museums. My Japanese friend, at a workshop I co-lead on peace education, told us that she was five years old when she went to an atomic bomb museum for the first time. Japan, for other reasons as well, has one on the lowest crime rates and they play the same video games our children play.

But Japan is a very different place compared to the US. It is not so simple. One of the biggest challenges I faced the first time I visited was all the questions. To Japan, peace is a way of life. To the US, it is an old and impossible fantasy.

I think it will be a while until Perry is able to fully communicate his ideas and response.

Friday, June 26, with Perry

The day began with a trip to HamaCross Mall. Kaho met us there and took us shopping. As a gift, she gave Perry a yukata with geta. She took us to Daiso and another $1 store. Kaho helped us buy a child's yukata for a friend of Perry's. She made us get a mask to put on geisha makeup so we can send her a picture. The mask is kind of like a fake tattoo: put it on your skin and get it wet, remove the paper. I'm not sure how I feel about this.

We had lunch with the group at a place her mom likes a lot. It was buffet style with sushi and other Japanese dishes.

In the afternoon, Kaho joined us as we visited Sakuramachi Primary School. The students were about 6th grade age. I gave a 10 minute presentation on school in Minnesota, but I focused on snow days and what students at my school are interested in. A lot of people in the group said I did well. Some people from the group felt the need to interrupt my  presentation from the audience because they knew my presentation better than I did.

I may have been popular though. When it came time to split up into small groups, a group of girls started calling me over.

They taught us the Nagasaki Bura Bura. This was Perry's first time attempting Japanese dance.  He struggled. It didn't help that the boys who were teaching him exaggerated the moves. But we were pretty strong dancers by the end. We brought small gifts from home for the students. From my job: a lanyard, magnet and notepad with my school logo on each one. Perry brought from his job sweat headbands and wristbands. By far the best gift was from Perry. The boys all wanted the headbands and the girls all wanted the wristbands. They wore it all for the rest of the visit. The place we were at had no air conditioning and was hotter inside than it was outside. Those kids must have been melting under those bands.

The students all said good-bye many times. We enjoyed the time we spent together.

Dinner was on our own. Fumiko-san guided the entire group to a mall to find food. Then she told me and Perry that she wanted to show us something.

She brought us to the Nagasaki Library. There was either a replica or remains (I'm not sure) of Shinkozan Primary School. It became a relief center, or makeshift hospital, for several months after the bombing. The room was set up with medical supplies and a video documenting the initial days and months after the bombing. It was called On That Fateful Day.

This was Perry's first exposure to anything related to the atomic bomb exhibits. I think it was a shock to him. He wasn't prepared. I don't think he expected to see something so graphic. He asked a few questions, but that was all he spoke.

I think it's hard seeing something one way and then being forced to confront another side in a more personal and painful way. It's easy for us to see the bombing as a means to an end. But we don't confront the lasting impact it had, and has, on the people.

Saturday, June 27

Today was the day of the dance recital. Practice had been cancelled three weeks prior to the trip and we practiced different dances while we were in Ueno.

We watched the rehearsal and the women were amazing. They were beautiful. The props and their movements made even the monotone songs beautiful. Japanese dance, I think, is all about stage presence: not too bright but not dim either. The face and movements must present both confidence and a deeper understanding of the music and movements. The eyes look so far beyond the audience that it seems like they really are in a completely different time period.

Needless to say, I was terrified. Chizuko-san, a woman who will be visiting as a singer in August, donated many kimonos to Linda, our dance teacher. I have a black and pink yukata and a lavender and a pink kimono. I was given a blue and gold kimono from the donation to borrow for the recital. I was told I looked great in it.

The morning was very stressful. It was difficult to dress in new kimono, half did not even have their kimono because one of the packs was forgotten. But we managed to pull it off with some quick practices. I messed up on one of the final moves.

I'm sorry everyone!

In the evening after dinner, we met the middle school students who will be visiting in August. We practiced the Nagasaki Burs Bura again. This time we had to teach it to them. Luckily, a teacher was there to help. The students are excited to visit. I'm hoping I can recruit some of my students to help out. So many people are coming! I'm going to need a bigger car.

Thursday, June 25

This morning, my hair was straight for about 10 minutes before it started to curl.

The president of the Japan-America Society of Nagasaki requested to see me today at 8:30 AM. Miyanishi-san, president of the Nagasaki-St. Paul Sister City Committee, did not tell me why exactly. 

When I arrived at the office, it wasn't just the president, but a panel of four men. They were four of the 50 some people visiting St. Paul for the mayoral delegation this coming August. They wanted to know what to expect and who they were expecting to see. I told them that I will most likely be escorting them to the Mall of America and working as JoAnn's right hand.

JoAnn is president of the St. Paul-Nagasaki Sister City Committee. She has been working so hard to make this a successful 60th anniversary of the sister city relationship, and honoring the 70th anniversary of the atomic bombing.

The four men took turns asking me questions about my background and involvement with the organization and previous visit to Nagasaki. They were very kind men who seemed to look forward to seeing Minnesota. Although most could not speak it, they seemed to understand English well. I hope they enjoy their stay.

The weather has been humid and raining. The moment I stepped outside the office, I felt like I needed a shower.

After that, Miyanishi-san took us to a tea house. It only opens twice in a year. But they made a special exception for our group. The top students learning tea ceremony prepared and lead the experience. There were 19 of us inside this tiny tea house. We were packed in along the wall and given a series of candies. They were delicious.

 Of the two kids on our trip, one received a candy in the shape of a Nagasaki cat. They are distinct from other cats because of their shortened tail. It is about half  the size of a normal cat tail.

We received our tea, which was prepared from scratch by the students, followed by more sweets.

The purpose of the candy is to clear the palate for maximum tea goodness. I've heard that tea ceremony tea does not taste good. But the tea was good. Definitely a more bitter flavor than most, but still good.

There was a Japanese garden outside the house that we walked through. It was here I met another guest coming in August. She will be joining Sister Hamada and the girls' choir from the Junshin schools in early August.

Next, we (me and the group I've been traveling with) had a Chinese lunch at an old  hall built for government and trade meetings long ago. One of the travelers is Chinese and talked a lot about growing up, family culture and tradition. She said she found Japan to be organized with the future and past; she said China struggles to do this.

Then we went to Deijima. It was raining a lot, but seemed to calm down by afternoon.

At around 4, we met with more delegates. This included Mayor Taue and several of his aids. The group I am with has not been known for being prompt or efficient or concise. One of his aids who apparently organized the mayor's schedule was especially frustrated, but in the most polite and funny way possible. Mayor Taue received a gift bag from our group. It had many small things that the mayor would pull out individually and comment on them. Each time it seemed the mayor was done looking through the bag, his aid would stand proud and start a slight gesture towards the door. But ultimately, Mayor Taue would again reach his hand into the bag. When this happened the aid would make a face that suggested he wanted to interrupt the mayor loudly and escort him away. His cheeks would puff out and he'd lean forward as if to prevent the words from coming out. But he continued to wait in silence.

I brought my own gift since part of the reason I was there was because of my students. I brought a paj ntaub, or Hmong story cloth. I explained that the students in my after school club learned a great deal about Caren and the story of Nagasaki resident Sachiko, a hibakusha (survivor of the A-bomb). The students wanted to offer friendship to the city of Nagasaki by presenting their story of finding a home in Asia and in the U.S. Luckily, one of the others group travelers is Hmong. She spoke on behalf of the Hmong community in St. Paul and the personal connection she felt between Nagasaki and Minnesota.

Mayor Taue received the gift and messages, stating that he will be hanging the paj ntaub in the Nagasaki Museum. It was the best thing he could have offered, I think. My school and students have a place in Nagasaki now.

Wednesday, June 24, with Perry

Today, we left Kyoto. We thought we were lucky because it was cloudy and rainy. Our train was not the bullet train this time, but still fast.

The group we have been traveling with has not been committed on group traveling, so Perry and I bought our tickets for a time that sounded good. At the station, we met one of the group members. They were taking a train 20 minutes before us.

On the train, Perry ate his first real bento. Bento is a word for "lunch box". Sort of. Anyway,  it's possible to buy these on long distance train rides. Perry got a sushi bento. I got a beef bento. They were both good, although Perry's looked more like a snack with less than 5 pieces of sushi.

We transferred a couple of times, our stations getting smaller and smaller. After one of the transfers, we spotted someone from our trip heading to the bathroom. Everyone was on the same final train to Nagasaki.

On the last leg of our trip, we realized that the rain in Kyoto followed us to Nagasaki, where it rained even more.

Arriving early afternoon, Takayuki-san met us at the train station with Fumiko-san, and Chizuko-san. All three will be visiting Minnesota in August for the mayoral delegation visit.

Giving us an hour or two to settle into our rooms, we all met back at the mall for dinner. 

Unfortunately, this was the only time the whole group did anything together.

The food was very fresh tasting and and the room looked like an IKEA advertisement. I provided sweets from Kyoto for dessert since the castilla was a little dry.

After dinner, we met with our friend Kaho. She took us to an Izakaya restaurant. Izakaya just means it's a Japanese bar and restaurant. It was great catching up with her.

We went back to our hotel and slept soundly.

Tuesday, June 23, with Perry

Today is our one day in Kyoto. We will return to Kyoto next week, but for now it is just one day.

Because I didn't learn from the last time, I suggested the Philosopher's Path temple walk. In my defense, the first time I walked it a couple years before I was working on about five hours of sleep and feeling subpar because there was the traditional Kyoto meal, and the Westin...it's a long story. Ask me and I'll tell you about it.

Anyway, the Philosopher's Path is still unreasonable. It was ridiculously hot and sunny. I don't even want to address the humidity. The first time I did philosopher's path, I was all about making the best of the situation I put myself in and attempted to enjoy everything, "It's all so new and awesome," and. "It's not worse than Minnesota in July."

It's totally worse than Minnesota in July. I understand that now. I accidentally forgot my umbrella (for both sun and rain) at the hotel in Ueno. Please see my former posts on remembering things. So we were openly exposed to the sun and heat most of the day.

We spent the better part of the day lost and climbing a mountain...because what could be better than doing that in unbearable heat? We climbed Mount Yoshida. We weren't quite sure where were going or what we were doing until we were near the top and smelled temple incense. I am pretty sure this was where I lost the bulk of my weight on that trip.

Perry still seemed refreshed at the top. He walked around the shrine slowly, interested in everything. It was silent and in the middle of the woods. It was perfect to sit in peace and observe the mood. The only sound was the trees and a small breeze that felt nice when we sat down.

Since we took so hidden steps up the hill, we decided to walk down it by a much easier route: the main entrance/exit to the temple.

We found a small restaurant that served very healthy meals. We had our first taste of Japanese egg salad sandwich and we got correct directions to the beginning of our walking tour.

After leaving the hotel at 8:30 AM and arriving at the beginning of the Philosopher's Path at 1:30 PM, We began our 55 minute walk.

Perry has liked collecting calligraphy and stamps in his temple seal book. I think it was a good investment. I think he is aiming to have it full by the time he leaves. It's fun watching his first time here. It has shown me how ridiculously optimistic I was my first time here. It's also awesome to watch people learn and change and be eager to understand the world. It's fun because it is nice to see that someone else enjoys doing the same things I do. I'm not particularly good at anything, but learning is something we can all do together.

We finished our walk about 2 hours later, headed back to the hotel and crashed after having hamburger steak(!) for dinner.

Monday, June 22, with Perry

Again, just a reminder that I am typing this on my phone. I'm marathon texting, really.  Errors will be corrected in a week or so.

We left Ueno today. I'm happy; I wasn't especially fond of Ueno or Tokyo. We accidentally took a bullet train to Kyoto. We wanted to take a regular one, but signed up for the fast (and more expensive) one. From my memory of the weather in Kyoto, it was like a July Minnesota day: hot, humid and sunny. And that is exactly what we got.

We arrived in Kyoto much earlier than we anticipated. Check in time at the New Miyako Hotel was at 2:00 PM and we were there before 1:00. We left our bag at the hotel and went in search for lunch. After dance practice on Friday, we'd been craving hamburger steak like nothing else. Unfortunately we found no hamburger steak. We ended up having a typical Japanese lunch: beef, salad and rice.

After wandering around the station, we headed back to check in. We relaxed a little bit, but decided to make the most of our time and visit the temples in walking distance.

I'm happy we did it. The two temples were not really tourist temples. It was so quiet and we were alone for a bit at one of them.

I think for Perry this was the turning point. All at once, he got to experience the history, atmosphere and tradition of Japan. He was excited to see the architecture and read about the history of each one. The temples we visited today had very few translated signs. He did a lot of speculating and asked a lot of questions I couldn't answer.

On the way back to our hotel, we stopped for dinner at a place where we grilled our own small pieces of meat. Basically, we purchased a plate of meat and vegetables. There is a small grill, like a charcoal grill, sitting on the table at which we were eating. The grill heated up quickly. The plate of raw food was served. Then we grilled  the meat and vegetables. It was so delicious! All the meat was marinated in a bright red sauce. We weren't sure what it was because all of pictures on the menu showed plain meat.

We went for it anyway. We almost ordered another plate of meat. I wanted the recipe for that marinade.

In order to get back to the hotel, we had to go through Kyoto Station. This was easy enough when we left, but nearly impossible coming back. We couldn't remember where to go. We knew there were two escalators involved. Every hallway led to an exit to a mall or hotel that was not ours. I thought we would have to sleep in the station tonight.

Finally back at the entrance of the station, Perry looks around and sees a sign, in large English words, lit up with an arrow, pointing the way back to our hotel. I can't make this stuff up. It turns out there were many signs directing us that WE DID NOT SEE.

We got out of the station 45 minutes later. We. Were. So. Stupid. Before crossing the street to the hotel, we looked at each other, "Let us never speak of this again."

Sunday, June 21, with Perry

The rainy season does not disappoint in Tokyo. I bought an umbrella the day before, because hell would freeze over before I remembered to pack everything I need on a trip.

Perry had yet to buy one at this point. We went off to the Imperial Palace, overcast and all. In Japan, the world doesn't slow down during rainy weather. Perry and I felt tired all day. Maybe it's an aquired American feeling.

We walked all the way to the opposite corner from the entrance before it began to pour. Perry ended up having to buy an umbrella at the gift shop so we could get out of the park without getting too wet.

He joined me in Harajuku. Luckily, his arms are long. Initially, he held the umbrella just over his head. As we were shuffling across the street with dozens of other people, Perry made eye contact with a girl walking toward us whose umbrella was held at the same height as Perry's. Her face looked like this: o_o

The two of them were stuck with so many people around. It seemed like the only thing they could do was watch as they destroyed their umbrellas,  or worse, their eyes.

In slow motion, Perry raised his umbrella higher at the last second. The two crossed each other without a problem. But it was tense for a moment.

I was getting peopled out after leaving Harajuku so went off on my own to shop back in Ueno. Perry decided, after such a life-threatening event, to stay at the hotel and watch Netflix on his tablet.

Once I bought only the most critical necessities at Daiso, I ended up walking across the street to Hub, a British-themed pub. I ordered a light snack and a drink. I emailed Perry and he joined me.

We didn't stay long. We decided to walk back to the restaurant we were at last night. It is apparently an izakaya restaurant (not quite sure what that means yet. I could Google it, but I wanted to learn this without cheating). The owner came to see us again. We got there just before closing and had a drink. It was his favorite sake. We bought him a drink and he talked about living in Canada and his collection of action figures and models.

Before we left, he gave us an apron from his restaurant. It has the title of the restaurant and he seemed very exited to give it to us so we decided to keep it. We took a picture together next to one of his cases of action figures. It's a great picture except we're standing underneath the sign for the bathrooms. I think it may have been intentional though. In the picture he has his index finger pointing up.

Sunday, June 21

Today I went to see the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. It took me an entire morning to figure out that the castle itself no longer exists and that I was exploring the buildings and land that remain.

The landscape was beautiful. My friend gave me a crash course in photography before I left so I got to try taking pictures with different settings. Hopefully in the future it won't take 10 minutes to take a picture.

After, I went to Harajuku (the fashion district) of Tokyo. It was overwhelming how many people were there. It was rainy all day so everyone had their umbrellas out. But there were so many people that it was difficult to get anywhere, all I could see was umbrellas. I finally just put mine away and was perfectly covered and dry since there were layers of umbrellas over my head.

I strolled off the main road into the alleyways looking at tiny shops and studios. There were less people, but it was very expensive and too bold for my taste. I ended up returning to the hotel empty handed.

I went on my own to do a little shopping back in Ueno. I wanted to get a few new outfits since everything fits me so well here.

I ended up spending most of my money at Daiso instead. Daiso is a dollar store on crack. It has so many quality things: notebooks, food containers, towels, EVERYTHING for 100 yen (with the exchange rate, it's less than $1.00).

The problem is that I sent my suitcase ahead to Nagasaki this morning; I had to choose the most necessary items if I were to buy anything at this point.

I don't remember everything I bought.

All I know now is that my bag is difficult to shut with a pack of drinking straws in it.

Saturday, June 20, with Perry

I was with Perry the entire day. After only a couple of days, he quickly mastered the public transit system and can confidently have a conversation with someone who only speaks Japanese.

I think there's going to be a Japanese child in his suitcase coming home. While we were at the zoo, he spent a lot of time watching the "cuuuuuute" kids. Not as interested in the museum, he really enjoyed the zoo despite initial doubts.

Although he wanted to go to Akihabara, I think it has been the place he has liked least. It was very loud, even by American standards. There were so many people with microphones and so many speakers playing music.

Once we got back to our hotel, we went shopping since Perry had very few comfortable clothes. Even though most associates spoke only Japanese, the ones who did help us were amazing. They completely made the experience for Perry.  Here's why:

We stopped at Gap first, thinking it may have large enough sizes for Perry. Once he found lightweight pants, he looked through the sizes. Someone who worked there asked for his size and informed him that pants there only went up to 32 x 32. We left and went to the department store, feeling sure we would not find anything he would fit into.

There were 3 floors dedicated to men's clothing. Perry needed a dress shirt. A man working in that part of the store approached us. We couldn't convert centimeters to inches easily. Speaking in only Japanese, he held out a measuring tape. He took Perry's measurements in centimeters; shirts are sized by both neck and arm length here. He found a shirt, tried it on and it was the best fitting dress shirt I've ever seen. The men then took his waist measurement too. Dress pants are sold only by waist with long pant legs. Then they hem the pants for free to your personal length. It takes only 60 minutes to complete the whole thing.

Everyone store-wide was so nice and accommodating even though we were clearly the only foreigners there, which can be burdensome on places that don't normally serve that population.

I felt really uncomfortable at Gap. I haven't quite figured it out yet. One of the things I noticed immediately was that all signs were still in English. Sizes were American sizes. Japanese clarification in small print was on some labels, but very few. Interestingly enough, the employees spoke only in Japanese, except when talking about sizes or fit. So it was kind of like, "Japanese Japanese 32-32 slim Japanese." For some reason I found the store unsettling. I'm not sure if it was the overly forced American-ness or considering how difficult it must be to be to work there when absolutely everything was in a language they did not know. The people who worked there were nice. They tried to help, but it seemed like they couldn't have full knowledge of the products due to a language difference. The care instructions on the clothes were entirely in English. The last shirt I got from the American Gap had a thick and giant tag in five different languages. Maybe this is just how the Japanese like Gap. I don't know.

Anyway, in the evening we wandered the streets near our hotel looking for a place to have a couple drinks. For so many hotels in the area, there were very few signs that seemed like they were willing to take in foreigners, which is understandable if a place doesn't have the resources to do so.

We finally found a place that advertised an English menu. It was crazy! Instead of fake memorabilia nailed to the wall, it seemed like a man's collection of action figures and toys. There was a PlayStation near our table and behind me was the largest collection I've seen of robot action figures from the Gundam Wing series.

Our middle aged server seemed excited to see us and quickly sat us down. He wanted us to have drinks at that moment. There was no running to get us water to give time to look over the menu. Perry ordered a beer, but wasn't sure what kind he was getting. I ordered a glass of sake.

Once our drinks were brought out, we were given tiny bowls of breaded squid. No one else had them (and the place was busy).

We looked at the menu for a possible snack. It was entirely in Japanese, but it had some pictures of food. Perry and I exchanged confused looks: "there was a sign for English menus, right?" The server returns speaking in broken English. "Menu." He opens it. "Picture only." Then pointing. "Roast beef, chicken, pork." He smiled innocently and then walked away. We immediately heard two men laughing loudly from behind a wall.

The server returns, laughing, along with the owner, also laughing. Both men spoke English well. They took the Japanese menus and replaced them with English ones. It was the. best. prank. ever. 

The subject quickly went from where we were from to what to eat. The owner opens the menu and suggests a few different things, but then highly recommends the okonomiyaki, and states that's what we will be eating. Then he brought out a bowl of stew-styled miso soup.

While we ate and drank, the owner brought both of his sons out to introduce us. Then he pushed his wife and daughter out to meet us. His boys looked unsure and slightly embarrassed. They ran away quickly. His wife was embarrassed too. His daughter seemed curious but confused. She waved a few times and then silently said bye-bye. She was so cute.

We got the bill about an hour later. It was my turn to pay. I'm not sure what we paid for. It was a little over 2200 yen. I had two 1000 yen on the bill clip and was fishing for some 100 yen coins, but the server came back and grabbed the check. We tried to stop him; we didn't pay the full amount. He held up his hand and said it was okay. I think that was the best time we've ever had at a bar.

Saturday, June 20, exhausted

I started the morning around 9 AM, walking to Ueno park. There was a festival of sorts, but I wasn't sure of what kind. The lines for the food stalls were insanely long and in direct sunlight. It was hot. I haven't been able to find a rain/sun umbrella under 3000 yen (~$28). I found some hats with varying sizes, but the only one in my head size was flimsy and difficult to see through. I'll find something.

We went to the zoo and it was a learning experience. Kids are loud here. But also stronger and more respectful of things. There was a small girl, maybe three years old at most, who ran off and completely ate it tripping over the cobblestone. She got up, looking a little dazed and went back to her mom with no issue. There was no crying, no yelling.

At the zoo, I saw a panda bear. It was the first one I've ever seen. It was smaller than I imagined, but absolutely adorable. There were a mix of interesting animals and they were kept up nicely. The elephants were healthy looking and the polar bear was white. No animals were pacing.

Because of the level of respect for the animals, I didn't see anyone taking flash photography or pounding on the windows. I think that is why people are able to get so close to the exhibits. The polar bear swam directly over to the window I was looking through. It was giant. Overwhelmingly so.

They had a lion and a tiger. Again, huge and able to be seen at a shockingly close range. One the most interesting things there was a display of 12 feline skulls in order from smallest (house cat) to largest (lion, I think). So. Big.

They also have some western animals. A friend who is Japanese told me that zoos here have squirrel exhibits. I didn't see any. But they had a North American brown bear. Once again, seen less than 5 feet away. It was scary to see an animal that size can be found not too far from where I live.

After the zoo, I went to the National Museum of Tokyo. I learned that the MIA has an impressive collection of Asian art. I skimmed some of the artifacts because I've seen similar ones back home. The Buddhist sculptures were similar and the MIA really captures the art of Buddhism as it spread across China and Japan around the 6th century. I visited two temples in Ueno Park. They were so small compared to the famous ones I saw the last time I was in Japan. I had to get a new temple book since I forgot mine at home.

Almost everything has been translated into English. But, I found three places where paper cranes were strung, but none of the memorials were in English so I wasn't sure what they were specifically for.

Next I went to Tokyo University. It was quiet aside from the kendo competition. There is a Japanese garden in the center of campus that is beautiful. Their university gift shop sells products that were actually developed at the school. The stores found near the university are mostly supply stores for students. My favorite was the microscope store. So many microscopes.

Finally, I went to Akihabara, the tech district. There were so many people. I wasn't sure where to go or what to see, so my trip ended up being a brief walk through a store that combines Best Buy and Staples. It was 8 floors. The top one was filled with restaurants, but they even had a floor for modern furniture. 

The culture in Ueno and Tokyo, I am finding, is significantly different from the rest of Japan. People are loud here. The music is played loud. It is still quieter than America in many places. But people yell in the streets walking home from the bar. Teenagers and college students are just as loud as those in America.

I am sunburn personified.

Friday, June 19, 11:00 PM

Today turned out to be a really impressive day. I practiced Japanese dance. And learned five new dances. The two women were old dance instructors who helped us get dressed in kimono. Their own dance group helped us learn the dances. They were talented women that had been dancing for decades. Yoko was the one who helped me most. She taught me how to properly use rectangle pieces of cloth in dance. How to hold them and swing them for the best effect while moving.

She even told me I was good. Nobody's ever said that to me regarding Japanese dance. Whether this was sincere or not, it made me feel great and it gave me a lot of energy to dance as long as I did yesterday.

In the evening, they conducted a workshop on a the dances we learned. There were so many dancers. In a massive gym, we had to form multiple circles so everyone had room to dance. It was such an inspiring and unique experience, I feel like this trip was worthwhile just from today.

Now to the most important part: the food! 

For lunch, the volunteer chefs made hamburger steak. It was pretty much Salisbury steak, only not frozen. It tasted so good! From my understanding, hamburger steak is kind of like the macaroni and cheese of Japan. Everyone likes it, but they're embarrassed to say so because it's such a homey meal. But it was incredible. I don't even remember what was served with it. Rice? Salad? It doesn't matter. I want hamburger steak! 

Friday, June 19, 8 AM

This will be edited at a later time. Please note: I'm using my phone to type this right now.

Today is really the first day of Japan. I flew in yesterday afternoon, got to my hotel around 5 PM, and passed out by 7. Needless to say it was a rough night. Other people in my party arrived around 11 PM yesterday.  I know because they were loud. Woke up at 3 AM and struggled to sleep until 5.

There is a lot near us in Ueno, though it's not the cutest place.

I was out the door by 7 and looking for breakfast. I. Was. Hungry. I wanted to stumble upon a cute cafe and get some omurice and coffee (yes, in Japan I drink coffee; it doesn't taste like burnt food there). But as it turned out, Lawson was the first thing I saw, so I had a convenient store pastry. It was like lefse made with Hawaiian bread. Delicious.

As I was walking back to the hotel, I saw someone, clearly white, standing outside the hotel. A Japanese woman walking her dog dodged the person by several feet, all the while her face stuck like this: O.O

I soon realized that I was associated with this person through my travel group, a regular visitor to Japan. He was standing outside, peaceful as you please, in a yukata.

Now, I'm not talking about the heavy dark mens kimono-like yukata. I'm talking about the bathrobe yukata that's mostly white.

So there he was: in a soft white cotton yukata, basking in the beautiful overcast and rainy weather of Ueno, Tokyo.

I wish it ended there, but it doesn't. As I reached the door to the hotel, three men in business suits are approaching. They take one look at breezy-pleasey, make eye contact with me and all four our our eyes hit the ground.

That was my first hour outside in Japan. Oh, there will be more to come.