Kazekoshi-yama Pt. III: The Spirit of the Mountain

After leaving the point overlooking the valley, my companions and guides and I continued along the ridge towards the mountain's summit. We were well over halfway through our climb, but the last several hundred meters rose rather sharply and an easy hike actually involved some honest climbing. The trail became less of a straightforward path as it began to spiral around the mountaintop.

At this point, we began noticing an abundance of small stone statues, carved vaguely in the shape of humans, many of them with red cloths tied around their waists. Kubota-san explained they were there for spiritual purposes and served as guardians of the mountain spirit who was said to live near Kazekoshi-yama's peak. These tiny peacekeepers guided our way around the mountain, lining the paths and occupying makeshift staircases that had been hewn into the mountainside.

As we came around the bend, our path abruptly came to an end as we were faced with a tangle of tree roots that ran sharply upward interlaced like latticework. The roots provided many hand and footholds, making for an easy climb, but

Kazekoshi-yama Pt. II: Up, Up & Away

I'm going to start off this post with a small disclaimer - I'm not good at approximating distances. Never have been. Unless I know the exact length or height of something, my estimations have been, historically, inaccurate. 30 feet might be 60. A mile might be two. That being said, other than the exact height of the mountain, take my distance estimations with a grain of salt.

After we abandoned the mountain hermit, Yamashida-san's pickup truck, we started off past a faded sign making the trail, up a zigzagging path up the mountainside, with hairpin, near 180-degree turns every 200 meters or so. The degree of ascent was sharp, around 30-35 degrees by our guide's estimate, but the path would somewhat flatten out once the back and forth trail reached its end, he promised. Thankfully, I was in much better shape than I was back then, and the climb, while robust, ended shortly enough.

As the zigzags came to an end, I tried to see back down the mountainside from whence we came, but when I searched for the hermit's truck, it was long lost among the trees. As our guide, Yudai Kubota, promised, the path was a bit more level after that initial climb. As the trail widened,

Kazekoshi-yama Pt. I: Meeting the Mountain Hermit

That's it, I'm done! By that I mean I've finally finished submitting my application to the 2015 JET Program that has been the bane of my existence for the better part of the last month. Overnight shipping is significantly more expensive than I had originally thought. Hopefully I'll hear back in December that I landed an interview!

Now, back to tales from my life in Iida. This week's post begins yet another series about climbing mountains. This took place about a week after Joe, Sean and I climbed the Chuo Alps and we were still thirsty for more. Unfortunately, Sean couldn't join us this time. He had planned to leave the program early in order to visit his childhood friend in Germany. In his stead, our friend Kelly would join us.

As I've mentioned before, Iida is a town nestled in valley surrounded by mountains. To the northwest of the city loomed Kazekoshi-yama, whose peak stood over 1,500 meters high. Joe and I had been talking about conquering that summit since we first laid eyes on it when we arrived in the city. Other than the Tenryu River that ran through the city,

A Look into the Future: Becoming a Hikonebito

This week's post will be yet another suspended of my tales from Iida to talk about another of my favorite cities in Japan - Hikone, located along the shores of Lake Biwa in Shiga Prefecture. My time there began Sept. 3, 2012. It was a rainy Monday and a long drive with my koto instructor, Genda-sensei, who graciously offered to drive me to Hikone as it was on the way to Kyoto where she and her daughter were heading for a trip.

I would be spending the next academic year on the northern edge of the city, doing intensive Japanese language study at the Japan Center for Michigan Universities. In their website's own words, JCMU is "a study abroad program, a product of the strong  sister-state relationship between the State of Michigan and Shiga Prefecture." Life at JCMU did nothing but further prove that my time in Japan was the best of my life. That being said, the word "intensive" is a bit of an understatement. The study demands of the JCMU regimen made it seem as if my summer studies in Iida were a walk in the park. OK, maybe at times they were a literal walk through the park, but the studies at JCMU were rigorous, but rewarding in that you really learn the language.

This post was actually inspired by a recent video that came across my Facebook newsfeed. It's a promotional video created by students and staff at JCMU featuring current Resident Director Ben McCracken, who was also director during my time. If the video below doesn't play, it can also be found here.

The JET Program: Teaching English in Japan

I'll be taking a break in my narrative this week to talk about an important bit of information for recent college graduates interested in traveling to Japan and working there as an English teacher. My first thoughts when I got back home after spending nearly a year in Japan were immediately of ways that I could get back. I enjoyed my first experience so much and met so many incredible people that I could not imagine a future where I didn't get to visit such a great country ever again. One of the first methods I am planning on pursuing is rather common and that is to return to the country to teach English in Japanese public schools.

One of the more well-known programs which facilitates such opportunities is the Japan Exchange and Teaching Program, better known as JET. The JET program seeks to foster better international relations with Japan through foreign language and culture education and establishing relationships between Japanese youths and foreign teachers in the same generation. People who are interested may apply to be either Assistant Language Teachers (ALTs) or Coordinators for International Relations (CIRs). Most people are more familiar with the ALT aspect of JET, that is, the actual classroom teaching part of the program.

My goal is to become an ALT. I had several opportunities to work with Japanese students in a volunteer capacity, most often participating as part of

We Went Chasing Waterfalls

I'll be jumping a little ahead into my summer in Iida for this week's post. We're moving forward to some of the waning days of our 10-week summer program. By this time, most of the ongoing activities I've discussed in earlier posts had come to a close and all we had left was a few practices with the good people of the Imada Puppet Fest to fine-tune our puppetry before our debut on the international performing scene. As such, we went from days being as packed as a Calvin and Hobbes comic book to only one or two scheduled activities a week.

While the end of the summer was only the start of a new beginning in Japan for me, Aug. 8, 2012, meant for all but one of my fellow students the end of this particular stint in the country. Although I was going to be staying on during the coming academic year, I still more than wanted to make the most of the time I had left with people who had become some of my closest friends. To that end, many of us made it our goal to explore as much of Iida and the surrounding countryside to the fullest we could with our remaining time together.

Our professor, Martin Holman, had teased us all summer with his knowledge of several supposedly "off-the-beaten-path" waterfalls that made for both excellent scenery and an excellent hike along the way. In the final weeks of our stay, we made sure to finally call him on his claim. Despite several warnings from TLC, we were set to chase those waterfalls. On a rainy, overcast Friday, Holman-sensei was finally worn down and he rented a car for us to make a trip.

Despite all Holman-sensei's assurances that the mountains surrounding Iida had plenty of those beautiful natural wonders, we actually

The Chuo Alps Pt. II: The Summit

When we last left our three intrepid mountain-climbers, myself, Shawn and Joe had just taken a respite after climbing a set of mountainside stairs rivaling those Frodo climbed to Cirith Ungol in the Two Towers. We were rather close to the summit and so the surrounding pass was wreathed in a blanket comprised of fog and clouds alike. It reminded me of a scene from 2005's "The Fog," but I don't think there were any ghost pirates/lepers hidden in the mist. (A reference to both the greatest fantasy movie series of all time and one of the worst b-movie horror films in one paragraph? Check.)

After a few hundred yards, we came upon a small hot spring resort of sorts. Naturally occurring hot springs were fairly common in Japan, however I'm not sure if this one was man-made or not, but it offered hikers and climbers a chance to soak in a warm tub as well as food and drinks. Unfortunately all this cost money, of which we had little. So we decided to continue on.

Shortly after passing the hot spring, the path leading along the mountain ridge diverged, one way leading north, further along the ridge, and the other with a sign directing us to the summit. Time being short we opted for the summit path over exploration, though not for lack of interest. After turning south, some of the fog cleared and we got a better idea of where we were to go to finish our climb.

The southern ridge leading to the summit was significantly narrower

The Chuo Alps Pt. I: The Ascent

That's right, folks, it's another multi-post series! This will most likely be my format going forward, with each story having two or three different posts. I think this is probably the best way to tell the rest of my story as looking back, some of those tales that were kept to one post had so much story left untold. That being said, this week's post kicks off the saga of how three gaijin managed to conquer nearly three kilometers of mountain.

Despite my love of movies, music and books, I've always considered a part of myself an outdoorsman. I've always enjoyed hiking and nature walk and Japan's beautiful landscape provided just the spark to kick that interest up. Thankfully, another of my companions, Joe, was an equally avid nature-lover and wherever we went, we talked of the mountains in the area we'd like to try and climb. We'd hiked up the mountains in Ohdairajuku and climbed Arashiyama, better known as "Monkey Mountain" to the east of Kyoto. By the time we reached, Iida, our penchant for long hikes was well-known throughout the group and as our language skills developed, we were able to communicate our interest in mountain climbing to our host families.

Another friend of ours, Shawn, shared a host family for a time with Joe and unfortunately had to leave the program prematurely. If you remember, he also was one of the few who made the "best worst decision ever" and endured the Yamanobe no Michi, a 15 kilometer hike from Tenri to Nara. He clearly shared in our enthusiasm for mountains and long walks and so before he had to leave, Joe and Shawn's host family, the Nashidas, arranged for us to climb the Chuo Alps located north of Iida.

As luck would have it, my host mother was also

Ohdairajuku Pt. III: The Bottom of a Suntory Bottle

This will be the final installment in my saga over our weekend camping trip in the Edo-period mountain post town, Ohdairajuku, located just north of our home-stay city, Iida. When we last left off we were taking a midday respite after a day of hiking and wading in an ice-cold stream. After resting up, a few of us headed up the road with our professor in search of friendlier waters.

We came across a shallower creek with bubbling waters coming just above our ankles. The shallower water was still cool, but much less so than the turbulent, deep-running stream we'd been in before. We walked a ways up the water before rejoining the road and going in search of a waterfall our professor swore was nearby.

About a half mile up the road, we found a small pool just off the beaten path that did indeed have a small waterfall feeding into it. The pool was nearly as cold as the first stream, but the water was not running near as fast.There was a bit of rock face and undergrowth on either side the waterfall, just enough for someone, I don't remember who, suggested we might be able to climb it.

Suddenly the waterfall was a jungle gym and we were back in elementary school. Slowly but surely, several of us

Ohdairajuku Pt. II: A Mountain Hike and a Freezing River

After a long hiatus, from this week I will resume this blog chronicling my adventures during the year I spent in the great nation of Japan. For those reading this blog for the first time, which I assume is quite a few given the months it sat untouched, check out the beginning of my adventure here. I'll be resuming my story right where I left off with the rest of the weekend we spent in Ohdairajuku, a 200-year old post town nestled deep in the heart of the mountains to the north of Iida. The town was originally built during the Edo period and served as place for traders and travelers to stop while passing through the mountainside.

As ever, the sun was up bright and early to herald our second day in the mountains. Despite my propensity to sleep late, I was woken up by the rustlings of my traveling companions who didn't share my enthusiasm for sleep. I couldn't complain too much, though, as my professor had risen earlier than all of us and got a start on breakfast. We had bought plenty of fresh fruit from the earlier shopping trip and we also brought what we needed to make pancakes. That coupled with some cold milk from our "icebox" outside got our day started off right.

This day was much less rigorously scheduled and as long as we agreed not to do any crazy base jumping or anything, we were pretty much left to our own devices during the day. Some of our group said they were going to go exploring down south of the camp where there was a small running stream that we could wade and swim in. However, three of us, myself, Joe and Kelly, decided we wanted to go for a short hike deeper in the mountains than our guide had led us the day before.

Armed with a bottle of water each, we set off up the trail, picking up from where we'd left off earlier. For the better part of three hours we trekked through the mountains, taking in the sites from on high and enjoying the animals and colorful plants we found along the way. At that point Kelly and I decided to head back to camp because we also wanted a chance to play in the river and we heard rumblings of a possible rainstorm. Joe said he'd continue on for awhile alone and join us later.

Sure enough, not even a half hour into our return trip, the sky opened up and we were hit with a heavy deluge of rain as if the clouds were overfilled water balloons that had been pricked with a needle. We found ourselves wanting for a couple umbrellas, but I doubt it would have helped just with the sheer volume and intensity of the rain. Luckily, it was actually a short cloudburst, so it rained just long enough to soak us through to our socks and then leave us sopping wet to finish our journey back. We felt even worse for poor Joe who'd have a longer walk back then us.

In a nice little twist of irony, we got back to our campsite, changed out of our clothes, dried off and then got ready to head to the river to get soaked yet again. We had seen the stream the day before so we were able to find the others who were still in the water relatively easy, especially given the fact that we weren't exactly the quietest group of Americans in the mountain.

Much to our surprise, the river was freezing cold, despite the pervasive heat of summer sitting in the mountains. Being so deep in the hills kept the stream running just warmer than ice, almost too unbearable to stay in. But we endured for the fun of it and did some river exploration, finding out where different branches led. In my eagerness to get to the river, I realized I had neglected to put on socks and unfortunately my shoes were not the most forgiving. When wet, they rubbed my ankles raw and it made continuing somewhat painful. However, I realized we wouldn't be in the mountains for very long, so I soldiered on, much to my regret later.

After braving the cold (an odd phrase for summer, no?) for a while, we made our way back to camp for a chance to rest and grab some food. Although like a 6 year old at Disneyland, we couldn't sit still very long and went off to further explore the wilderness.

Next week: The conclusion of the Ohdairajuku saga entitled, "The Bottom of a Suntory Bottle"

Ohdairajuku Pt I: A Weekend in an Edo-period Outpost

One of the most memorable weekends I had during our summer in Iida was the weekend we spent in Ohdairajuku, a post town deep in the mountains to the north of the city. We left the city early on a Friday and weren't going to be coming back until late Sunday evening.  For three days and two nights we would be staying in buildings constructed in the Edo period more than 200 years ago. It served as a post town for travelers passing through the mountainside.

The night before we left, I met up with our professor, Martin Holman, to do the shopping for our trip. We would be cooking all our own meals in a small hearth in the cabin we would be staying in and without access to a refrigerator we had to buy non-perishable food. In total we spent upwards of 30,000 yen, roughly $300 dollars, on food and drinks. Although we didn't have a fridge, we were able to keep our drinks and fruit cold in a stream that ran through the town so deep in the mountains that the stream was ran cold enough to keep drinks and fruit cool. (Below [Top]: The stream we kept our drinks cool in. [Middle]: Our first night cooking in the hearth. Our sensei made a delicious chicken and dumpling soup. [Bottom] This cart was one of two filled with food that we brought for the weekend. Photos courtesy of Kelly Washatka).

One Year Later: Reflections

This week marked the first time in 12 months that I couldn't say, "This time last year, I was in Japan." I have a lot of mixed feelings about that. I try to keep true to the adage "Don't be sad because it's over, smile because it happened." But, every now and then, when looking through pictures on Facebook or photos for this blog, there happens this overwhelming wave of nostalgia and it's a shame to think that its all in the past.

Sure, I most definitely have plans to return, hopefully within the next two years, but by then it will be as part of the real world. Traveling abroad as a student is an entirely different experience from traveling as a part of a job. I think I was able to get a richer understanding of Japanese culture because I was able to simply be there and take it all in. 

Students have a unique opportunity when it comes to studying abroad. It's the one time in your life when you can take a trip to (almost) anywhere in the world and see a place completely different from your own and you can apply for student loans to do it. Don't get me wrong, studying abroad is not a cheap affair. When I landed back in the US, I had a wiped out bank account and $23 in my pocket. On top of that, the student loan debt I accrued won't be anything to sneeze at. But, I can honestly say, for the experience I had, it was worth every single yen.

Japanese Instruments Pt. III: Yokobue

The final installment in my mini-series on Japanese instruments will be about the third instrument we were introduced to that summer, yokobue, the art of the Japanese flute. This was the only instrument that came with an additional fee for participation, but being only 1,000 yen (approximately $10 USD), it was worth it. That small fee bought each of us our own flute for us to keep following the program.

This was the shortest set of lessons we had, only meeting four times in the latter half of our summer. We were scheduled for more lessons, but a few had to be cancelled. Our summer was packed to the point of overscheduling, so unfortunately some sacrifices had to be made. That being said, although our time was short, yokobue was actually a lot of fun. A lot of that had to do with the energy our sensei brought to our lessons. (Below: Our senseis gave a performance at our farewell ceremony, performing a few of the songs we learned. This also included a short taiko performance. Photos by David Parker).

Both were professional yokobue players and members of a taiko troupe, so their performances and abilities were beyond impressive.

Japanese Instruments Pt. II: Taiko Drums

Here we are at part two of my mini-series on Japanese instruments. While I have no musical background, I've always found myself thinking that if I was to learn one, it would be a string. This explains why the koto was my favorite instrument we learned. However, at a close second and near to my heart is the art of taiko, also known as Japanese drums. Taiko is used as a general term in Japanese for drums, while the authentic drums are known as wadaiko, and the performing art known as kumidaiko. Where the music of the koto is soft and serene, the pure adrenaline in a taiko performance is very intense. The beats can range from a light, quick hop to a frenzied pounding.

In case its not obvious in the name, taiko is a percussion instrument and for many, the seemingly-simple act of beating a drum doesn't appear to be as difficult as something more precise in the brass or woodwind section. But that is the distinction in the Japanese performing art. For someone like me, getting the rhythm of the drumbeats down in time with pace-setter, in conjunction with the heavy amount of movement involved in taiko, it could, at times, be as frustrating as kyuudo could be for a beginner. (Below: An example of the basic taiko drum, a chuu-daiko. Photo by Wikimedia Commons / Oiwake2727).

We started as everyone else does, from the basics. Before we learned any beats or movements, we had to practice proper stance and rhythm for playing the taiko. The drums themselves are rather massive, dual-side about 3 foot in diameter and could weigh upwards of 100 pounds, often requiring two people to carry them due to their bulky size. Drums are traditionally

Japanese Instruments Pt. I: The Koto

This post will be the first in a small, three-part mini-series talking about my experiences learning the basics of Japanese instruments. During the course of our summer program in Iida in the heart of the Nagano Prefecture of Japan, we were afforded the opportunity to deepen our cultural understanding of Japan through music. This involved taking lessons in a variety of Japanese instruments, namely the koto, taiko drums and yokobue, the Japanese flute. This first post will talk about my favorite instrument, the koto. (Below: A Japanese koto. Photo by Smgregory)

The koto is a long, stringed musical instrument generally close to 6 feet in length and made of a specialized wood, called kiri wood. This comes from a specialized tree traditionally reserved for ornamental purposes. The wood is lightweight and very delicate. We always had to take the utmost care in handling the koto during practice and our later performance. It is also the national instrument of Japan.

String pitch is achieved as a result of careful adjustment of bridges for each string. The koto is played in a seated position at a slight angle to the koto. The player

Kyudo: A Bow, Two Arrows and Self-Discovery

Cultural immersion was a central theme of our summer program through the University of Missouri. In order to give us a better understanding and appreciation of Japan's rich, historical culture, we were afforded a variety of opportunities to experience it first hand. This came in the form of our participation in a variety of Japanese cultural arts during our stay in Iida beyond our weekly puppet practice. This would include arts such as kendo, taiko and ikebana.Through this we were given the opportunity to practice perhaps my favorite, kyuudo - the Japanese martial art of archery. (Below: a snapshot of a photo which appeared with a story about our kyuudo studies. Photo courtesy of Sean Noble).

For some it may seem odd to consider archery an art, but the Japanese form of archery extends beyond simply drawing a bow and attempting to hit a target. As we learned during our lesson, each shot was more of a performance; a ceremony in its own right. Growing up around my family, I had been around guns and bows most of my life and knew how to use them in the more common sense, but that didn't necessarily translate to kyuudo prowess. It was actually somewhat frustrating for me that I didn't adapt as quickly to this different form, given my background with a bow and arrow. (Below: During our first lessons, we used a device similar to a slingshot to practice the draw-and-release technique).

As such, I might as well have been a fledgling archer

The Fourth of July: Japan Style

Just over a week into our time in Iida, we had to take a break from trying to embed ourselves in Japanese society and show off our American pride. The reason? While it may have just been a regular Wednesday in Japan, back home it was the Fourth of July and national pride wouldn't let us take it lying down.

Obviously we had been rather caught up trying to adjust to living with a host family, so admittedly, the holiday had slipped our minds until it was almost too late. Being the guests that we were, no one really had access to a barbecue and private swimming pools were too much of a rarity to have a traditional celebration of America's birthday. We were forced to improvise.

In a compromise, we decided to buy a couple cartloads of food from the supermarket that wasn't your typical holiday fair. Instead of hot dogs and hamburgers, we had some pre-made okonomiyaki and sushi along with some appetizer-esque dishes provided by some generous host families. We were able to load up on our American sodas and the Japan equivalent of some Lay's chips. Those of us that were of age also brought some beers to enjoy.

We had our food problem solved, sort of, but we still needed a location. We were all in favor of swimming, but it would have been rather difficult to celebrate in appropriate fashion at a public swimming pool. However, given the many years our professor, Martin Holman, had been conducting this program, he knew of a place

Host Families in Japan: Advantages and Daily Life

For today's post, I thought it might be a good idea to discuss what is one of the most important aspects one has to consider when planning a study abroad trip - host families. There are people with a lot of trepidation about living with a host family while studying in a foreign country. Will I be able to communicate with my family? What if they're too strict and don't allow me enough freedom? What if our cultural differences leads to arguments?

All of these are valid concerns, but what you have to consider when weighing the options of living with a host family is this - what is your purpose for studying abroad? If you're considering studying abroad, I'm inclined to believe you have an interest in foreign culture or language. There's some aspect that drew you to the country, and as my professor, Martin Holman, loves to say, the best way to learn a foreign language is to live with a foreign family. (Below is the second host family I stayed with, the Nashidas. To my right is my host mother and my host father on the left with two of their grandchildren in front. To his left is my good friend John, who also lived with the Nashidas during our program.)

Naturally, there is probably going to be a bit of a language barrier if you're studying in a foreign country, especially if you are choosing a country

Learning the Art of Bunraku and the Three-Man Puppet

Bunraku, or ningyo joruri, is the traditional japanese performing art of puppetry. In addition to the puppeteers and their tools, the puppets themselves, a usual bunraku performance will have two other key parts. One is the tayu, a narrator similar in practice to the Japanese performance art of Noh dramas, who, using a variety of voices and inflection, tells the tale the puppets are acting out on stage. In accompaniment to the tayu is the shamisen player, or players depending on the theatre. A shamisen is an instrument similar to a guitar or sitar, only with three strings and instead of using a normal pick or hand to play, a shamisen requires a specialized pick, called a bachi. (Examples of bachi (top) photo by KogeJoe. Examples of a shamisen (bottom) photo by Ryukei at the Chinese Wikipedia).

Usually, the tayu and shamisen player sit on their own small stage to the side of the main performance, remaining seated in the seiza position for nearly the entire performance. The pieces I saw performed by larger theatres would usually have multiple stories performed and the tayu and shamisen would swap out in between performances. Occasionally additional performers backstage handle other responsibilities such as playing on the taiko drums when required or assisting in quick scene changes.

We again watched taped past performances of the pieces we would be performing, Oshichi and Hidakagawa and began discussing who would be fulfilling each role. We had nine students and one student leader, just barely enough

First Days in Iida Pt. II: Meeting the Imada Puppet Troupe

The second set of introductions to be made in our first days in Iida were to the good people of the Imada Puppet Troupe. For the next seven weeks, while we were living Iida, we would be having bi-weekly lessons with troupe members to learn the ancient Japanese performing art of ningyou-joruri, or puppet theatre. (Below is what the Imada Puppet Theatre looked like inside and out. Photo courtesy of Kelly Washatka)

This would serve as the cultural studies portion of our summer program. Our ultimate goal was to perform at the Iida International Puppetry Fest, an annual festival during which performers of various types of puppetry gather from around the world to showcase their talents. Through this festival not only did we get exposed to Japanese culture but also a variety of other countries from Russia to Germany to France.

The main three Imada performers who would be working with us were the head puppet master, whom we called zachou-san, lead puppeteer, Kinoshita-san, and Kinoshita-san’s son, Yukihiko-san, who played the shamisen for our performances. Each performance also had its own tayu, a narrator for the story. (Below is one of the better group photos. Kinoshita-san is the woman on the far left, while her son Yukihiko-san is two people to the right of her [black t-shirt]. On the far left is our tayu, who narrated for both of our performances in the absence of a student. Just to the left of him is Zachou-san, the leader of the puppet troupe.)

Japanese puppets are unique for their size, which requires three people to operate it. In traditional theater, performers wear completely black uniforms,

Intermission: Introduction to Iida I

I think it wise to take a break before getting into my days in Iida and introduce this great city as it was seen through the eyes of foreign students. Unlike most of my fellow students, I was afforded the opportunity to live in the heart of the city with the Shimodas. Their home was a short 10 minute walk from the train station, which would serve as our central landmark.

As you might guess, with our language skills being what they were, we primarily had to use landmarks like specialty shops and statues to navigate the city over a street map. So forgive me if my directions aren’t as precise as some would like, but I think it’s how everyone familiarizes themselves with a new city.

So I’ll start with our lifeline, the train station. This was an easy location we all knew and so we used it extensively as the meeting place for activities. The station also provided us with the most important resource of all

Introduction to Iida Part I: Meeting the Host Families

The day had finally come to meet our host families, with whom we would be living for the next eight weeks in the great city of Iida in Nagano Prefecture. We walked from our hotel to the Iida kouminkan for a welcome party with our host families and a few people from the city building. We were welcomed to the city by Kumagai Fumiyo, the employee from the kouminkan who would be overseeing our stay and coordinating our program with the city.

During the course of our program in Iida, Kumagai-san was a tremendous help in making this summer run as smoothly as possible, while providing us with more opportunities for cultural enrichment than any of us could have imagined. This included lessons in Japanese martial arts, such as kyudo and kendo, as well as the performing arts like taiko and koto. I’ll talk more about those activities, however, in later posts.

After the welcome speech, students made a brief introduction speech, all of us at varying level of Japanese proficiency and some even electing to introduce themselves in English. Kumagai-san and Holman-sensei had worked for several months

Nagoya and Iida: First Impressions

After our day in Hikone, we again boarded the JR Line to Nagoya where we would be catching a bus. Nagoya was a city I never got to spend much time in, but it is definitely on the checklist for cities to visit during my next trip to Japan. Nagoya is one of the larger cities of the Honshu island of Japan, boasting not only a large JR station rivaling that of Kyoto, but also the Chūbu Centrair International Airport and the Meitetsu Bus Center. It is also the capital  of the Aichi Prefecture, making it a central port of Japan.

 Our business in Nagoya that day was at the Meitetsu Bus Center.  This is the central hub for the Meitetsu bus line, one of the largest lines in the country allowing you to take overnight or daytime buses to most anywhere in Honshu. We only had about 40 minutes to kill until the bus left for Iida, so we set down our luggage, grabbed some snacks from the convenience store located in the center itself and relaxed.

Hikone: An Interlude Between Kyoto and Iida

While I had hoped we would get to Iida in this post, there's still just too much story to tell before we got to our final destination. Between our time in Kyoto and moving in with our host families in Iida, we spent a brief, vibrant day in Hikone. We checked out of our youth hostel early Saturday morning and caught a bus to Kyoto station. From there we hopped on the Japan Railway (JR) Line and started making out way towards Nagoya, where we would be catching a bus bound for the Nagano Prefecture and the city of Iida.

However, as we rode up the eastern shore of Lake Biwa, our professor made the decision to stop off in Hikone, partially at my request. The reason being that following my summer program, I would be spending the academic year studying at the Japan Center for Michigan Universities (JCMU) located in the city of Hikone in Shiga Prefecture. In addition, Hikone is arguably the most important historical city in the prefecture. My professor used to be the Resident Director at JCMU before beginning his tenure at the University of Missouri.

First Kyoto Trip: Final Days

While next week, I intend for these posts to be about Iida, a city in Nagano Prefecture where we would be living for the next eight weeks, I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about my final day in Kyoto. The day following our adventures on Arashiyama (see previous post), we had a free day to explore Kyoto on our own. And I forgot it on my last post, but here's a picture of me feeding the monkey's on Arashiyama.

The majority of our group agreed that we should grab lunch at the kaitenzushi restaurant one more time and after we stuffed our faces full of sushi, we wanted to explore the twin rivers that join to form the Kamo River in the North of Kyoto. The bank of the river is a very popular spot in Kyoto, especially for couples, and that day was no exception. There was even one portion of the bank that was large enough to hold a few fields where people were playing ultimate Frisbee.

Onwards to Monkey Mountain!

Much like the first night, our week in Kyoto ran into a few more snags along the way. We were in the city during monsoon season and out of the seven days we stayed in Kyoto, three were drowned in a torrential downpour. Despite our trials and tribulations, it was tough to complain about the weather when we were staying at the top-ranked youth hostel in the world, the Utano Youth Hostel. At least, our sensei had informed us that it was the best, and after staying there I have no reason to doubt that ranking.

It was less of a hostel and more of a hotel, complete with a free breakfast buffet, and unlike the less-than-savory quality food you usually get at cheap hotels, this breakfast was actually delicious. The only hostel-esque quality, at least in my opinion, was that the rooms were small. But for students traveling light, fitting four people in this room was still quite comfortable.

Perhaps the best features of Utano, besides the free Wi-Fi, were the baths. It was a traditional open air bath; group bathing being commonplace in Japan. What made it so great was that you had the option to open a large bay window that overlooked the mountains behind the hostel and enjoy the air. Luckily we were staying in Kyoto during the summer, so the summer breeze as it rustled the trees and rolled in through the window, coupled with a warm bath, created a sensation I would probably closely associate with heaven.

A bright spot, in my opinion the brightest spot, of our trip to Kyoto was the day a group of us hiked to the top of Arashiyama, written using the kanji for storm and mountain. However, I will always affectionately call it “Monkey Mountain.” The reason for this is at the mountain’s lower peak, not only is there a fantastic view of nearly the whole of Kyoto, but it is also home to the Iwatayama Monkey Park.

This park is home to over 170 Japanese macaque monkeys, or saru. These monkeys are free to roam the mountain and have become somewhat accustomed to the presence of people. For a small fee, you can buy some food from the park shop and then feed the monkeys through the fencing that lined the shop. We were strictly instructed not to feed them outside the shop or we could agitate the group of them.

There were actually quite a few rules we had to follow. We could not make eye contact with the monkeys as they took it as a sign of aggression. We were also told not to cross their paths or get too close to the monkeys, as that was also a sign of aggression. Luckily, the monkeys were comfortable with pictures so we were able to interact somewhat. I had the misfortune of stumbling across a monkey I hadn’t noticed, inadvertently crossing his path and even worse, making eye contact. Sure enough he reared up on all fours, baring his fangs and hissing at me. I immediately backed off and made my way back to the rest of the group.

We had discovered that just past the monkey park, there was also a small playground. Suddenly we were all 10 years old again, swinging from monkey bars and riding a teeter-totter. The best attraction was a 30 ft. zip line, which we spent the better part of a half hour riding back and forth. When we’d had our fill of playing and monkeys we descended the mountain and of course, hit up the gift shop for some monkey stuff. At the base of the mountain there was also the scenic fork of the Oui River, which offered river boat rides that were unfortunately far out of our price range.

By this time the day was late, so we headed back to our hostel to enjoy that bath and relax in our rooms. We would only have a few more days in Kyoto before we would be heading to our final destination, Iida, a city in the Nagano prefecture.

Useful phrase in this week’s post:

Saru – さる – 猿 (commonly written using kana alone)

Meaning: monkey