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