Of autumn, adventure and assistance

The time is slipping away like the fall leaves. Today was a raining day and with the puddles I found my car waiting for me in a pool of yellow gingko leaves. I try not to let it get to me but I realize that I won't see Japan green again as I'll be leaving just as the sakura blooms. But onto less nostalgic thoughts, I present November in a nutshell!

It's been steadily getting colder and I celebrated the first of November by winter proofing my house with a heated carpet and kotatsu and even eventually brought out the electric blanket. The cold can get so brutal here. I've been steadily keeping up with iaido and have even begun to practice in Otsuki with some old men on Saturdays. I'm learning a lot from them. I went out to dinner with Saori and her friend Mirei. Went to Costco! Bought tonnes of delicious western food: pumpkin pie, muffins and cheese~ Had a tea party with the Fuji ladies at Lauru's. Celebrated American thanksgiving with Lena and Stewart and some fun gaming times. And just generally enjoyed autumn.

On one of the weekends, I packed up Kevin and we went to Fujiyoshida to pick up Sarah and Chelsea to go to Minobu. The weather wasn't great, it never seems to be when I go there, but we had a lot of fun anyway, and the drive their was gorgeous as we wove through the multicoloured hills and down into the lower valleys of southern Yamanashi. Climbing the nearly 300 stairs to enlightenment was optional but after a lot of humming and hawing we tackled them with success and some fun. Kevin and I played Japanese batsu games where we jankened and loser had to ascend the next set of steps backwards. It began to rain just as we got to the top so we escaped into the shelter of the large temple complex. I took some time to just kneel and take in the beautiful main altar room with my favourite dragon painting on the ceiling and then I caught up with the others who had gotten themselves lost in the march of the monks going to pray. The music was breathtaking and it was a really cool moment where I could let the culture wash over me. As a group we explored the rest together as the heavens opened up and the rain pounded against the painted roofs. We got a bit lost and following the smell of pizza (I'm pretty sure monks aren't allowed pizza) we accidentally ended up in the living quarters and were shooed off. (We think because they didn't want us to discover the secret of the pizza!) In the rain we stole back down the stairs, did a bit of shopping in the little town and headed for lunch at Moose Hills!

 

 

With the bad weather I was thwarted my chance to get a picture of Fuji with the fall leaves, as I was last year, so on a Thursday afternoon that I was randomly given off I headed over to that giant beautiful mountain. I awoke to lovely weather but it clouded over and by the time I left Otsuki it was nearly raining but I pressed on with a hopeful heart and was rewarded for the clouds cleared off just as I got to the momiji tunnel. All these amazing leaves lined the road that curves around Lake Kawaguchiko and fighting off a hundred other photographers I was captivated by the breathtaking view. Sneaking away from the crowds, I found myself under this little red tree on the lake sure that perfectly framed Fuji and I did a little dance to count my blessing in the warm sun as the beauty nearly brought me to tears! After I had coffee and cake with Sheena and Ken! ^_^

Oh in there somewhere was a school festival of Kowaze where the kids put on a really fun flea market and at Hatsukari where they had a study party and put on plays and puppet shows! it was really nice and I had a lovely bike ride to the former on a fabulous Saturday morning! Then there was this fancy dinner with Tami with a seven course meal and an awesome evening spent at our favourite Okinawa izakaya in this little corner booth with comfy pillows that made me feel like a Persian princess!

Yamanashi day granted us with a Tuesday off and under a blue sky I dragged Kevin, Lena and Stewart to Mt. Takao to enjoy the leaves. The cable car had a massive que as everyone seemed to have the same idea as me so we took the chairlift! It was really cool. At the top it was a bit chilly but we remedied that by the hike to the peak, passing through the temple complex and the pretty shrine which overlooked Tokyo for the day was clear enough to see where mountain met plateau. For the first time going there it was clear enough that we could go all the way to the top and look out over Yamanashi but the sun was too bright over the ranges to clearly make out Fuji. We found a quiet little place amongst the leaves to picnic on leftover turkey sandwiches and mikans and then headed home at sunset.

 

I don't really go on weekend trips like I used to and this is partly because of money, not having Rhee about and because I want to spend my time off going to Tohoku to volunteer. Kevin and I had such a good time last month in Miyagi that I contacted Habitat for Humanity on my own and asked if they'd have us again. They had no room in Miyagi on the long weekend but asked if we wouldn't mind going further north to Ofunato as not many people volunteer there for it's so far from everything. of course because of the tsunami, their are no trains in the area, so people by cars are most welcomed. We obliged and though it was a long drive dotted with detours, getting lost, traffic and getting pulled over by the police at one in the morning, we were glad we went!

Unlike last time when we got to wreck things, this time was dedicated to building. We spent both days working at temporary housing complexes building shelves and shelters from the rain and the ladies, Lena, myself and Yoshiko spent Saturday working on painting the temporary storefronts of a fish, stove and seaweed shop. In the evening we onsened for we slept in a community hall without bathing facilities, and feasted in a restaurant complex where businesses that were destroyed can find a little home in the temporary stalls that have been made incredibly cozy!

Ofunato is near one of the most damaged areas in Iwate and thus the community has had to rebuild more than I'd seen previously. What took me off guard was the inexhaustible kindness of the locals. We were brought apple slices and offered tea, persimmon treats and a bagful of goodies on the first day alone.  On the second day we were granted free access to an onsen (all the onsens in the area were free after the disaster so that those displaced could bathe and have a little reprieve of luxury) with a bath on the ocean so that outdoors, in a little rock garden, I could lean my head on the oak wood of the tub and listen to the waves. We also were blessed with a feast for lunch in the little community hall of sashimi, from our friends at the fish shop, pound cake, rice sweets, figs, yams and bento boxes. Their kindness was so touching I found myself wondering how they could all be so nice. I naively rationalized that they had been through a disaster, of course they are nice, but if anyone has a right in this world do be miserable and hateful it's these people who have lost their homes and not to mention family and in cases entire livelihoods. There are no words to express my affection for the warm people I met in Ofunato and I cherished each meeting from the grandma who told me how scared she was and showed me how the ocean had swollen right up to under the shrine gate I stood beneath as we spoke to the old fisherman who served us fried sol and coffee right in his shop and let us play with his dog, fran, who was an especially big fan of sushi.

On Sunday it was time to head home as the drive is an incredibly long one. First we stopped at Ofunato's one tourist destination! On the way we passed the bay, where the tsunami passed between the two hills caving into the water like a futile gateway, and the community from the day before. Stopping in an abandoned parking lot we walked along a little sunlit trail in the woods down to a cliff where the waves crashed against the rocks and beheld an amazing sight. The picture explains it all do I won't try to explain the rock but it was really cool and in the background was Ofunato itself. We could have spent all day there but we had to get home (as it turned out we hit super bad traffic and were three hours longer than we had hoped for.) We drove back through Takada (the worst hit area) this time in the day. On the way there we were driving in the dark and caught glimpses of bare foundations of communities no longer there that gave us the eerie sense of driving through ghosts, but now in the sun we could see the full affect of the damage. But seeing, and comprehending are two different things. Most of the garbage and debris has cleared up but in a flat plateau between the hills, bordered by ocean, used to be an entire town that is now gone. It was too hard to imagine and a ghostly image of a baseball field which has now found itself in the ocean, now that the ground has sunk by a meter, was imprinted in my mind. It was difficult to fathom what used to be there...

Lunch was amazing curry and then we hit the road. Kevin and I shared the driving and finally by ten on a Sunday night we were home~ We are really hoping to go again maybe for christmas or at least in the new year!

Autumn arrives in Japan

This post is a few weeks late, and I have grown incredibly lazy with my posting, for which one day when I'm old and reflecting of my years in Japan, I will probably regret. The thing is, Japan is no less amazing, but combined with my lack of money this year (so less traveling) and the fact that most things I experience, a festival, a little overgrown shrine, my students being wonderful, dinner out with friends and such, have grown to be such a part of my life I don't think to report on all of them. I do hope I don't forget these wonderful memories.

Anyways, going back in time to about a month ago. Chelsea, the other Sarah, and myself took a pretty fun trip to Tokyo. We did some shopping, I spent hours in books stores and we went to the Meiji shrine as the sun was setting and creating this really awesome rippling effect in the clouds over several weddings that paraded through the precinct. It was a nice day.

The following weekend, Kevin and I woke before the sun and drove to Fujiyoshida where we met with Sheena and Ken for McDonalds breakfast and went north to Nagano where autumn comes earlier than in Yamanashi. We snaked through the mountains as the trees changed colours and parked in a valley to take a bus up to the highlands where private vehicles aren't allowed. Kamikochi was magnificent! It's this nearly untouched valley in the mountains where the water is crystal clear and the towering mountain peaks dusted with snow cradling a cacophony of gold and red leaves. And the weather was so perfect, warm with a cool breeze and the sky the bluist of blues! We hiked from the bus stop up the valley amidst birch trees and bird songs to this bridge that crossed the river to a really pretty pond. Here the trees were the most red and reflected in the mirror-like surface of the water. There were all these little islands dappling the pond and after contemplating my strategy for a good while I managed to hop stones and logs to one of them. Thankfully I was victorious for nearly twenty Japanese watched my performance waiting me to plunge in to the icy waters. We finished with few more pictures of a nice little shrine and traversed the land back to the warm bus for by now the sun had dipped behind the mountains.

 

 

Mmm what happened next? Well... I don't believe I have yet to mention that I'm learning how to be a samurai! On the trip to Tohoku I met this really interesting girl with a fascinating hobby: iaido. Iaido evolved from a martial art called battojutsu which is the art of drawing a sword. Having once done karate, when I failed to find kendo when I was younger, I was quite taken by this idea and did some research to find a dojo. I found one in Shinjuku that was bilingual and now every Thursday after school it take the train to iaido class and learn how to be a samurai. it's an incredible art for it's like meditation in that it requires focus and a clear mind but I can keep my hands busy which keeps me centered. It's really cool, and the best part is that we use really Japanese swords; mine is borrowed from an elderly man in otsuki who lets me practice with his little group on Saturdays.

Finally I'm nearing the end of October. I had fun with Halloween lessons with my students as the days got colder, and one evening, as I found myself shivering in my little house, I stole Kevin's kotatsu and made my house all cozy with a carpet and the heated table with a blanket. I think I'll survive this winter much warmer for it! There was a speech contest, an awesome day at school, a dinner out with friends, and afternoon hanging out with Stuart and Lena and playing an rpg and most recently an awesome trip to Costco that involved pumpkin pie, whip cream, real cheese, mango juice and 2,800 stickers for my kids! So much fun!

Now it's November and I'm wondering where the time has gone. All to soon I'll be thinking about packing up for home... but before then, I have another volunteer trip to Tohoku planned, hopefully a drive down to Kyoto and Nikki comes for Christmas while my Dad come for spring break! So lots to look forward to before returning to Canada!

Hope a year and a half later

It’s hard to imagine what you are looking at: how could it be that only a year and a half ago the ocean didn’t lap the road? The area of Higashi Matsushima, just thirty kilometers of Sendai, the biggest city in northern Japan, has sunk at least three feet into the ocean. It’s down a gravel road that I first lay my eyes on the unfathomable, little islands in a marshland that reveal themselves as broken homes.

The Japanese government has set up three zones to designate the major disaster areas: blue, yellow and red. In the blue zones, any homes destroyed can be either fixed or rebuilt. The yellow areas only allow the houses to be fixed but no houses are to be rebuilt there. The red zone won’t allow houses to be rebuilt there nor fixed, even if they were left standing.

Just recently it was decided that the area around Watanabe-san’s house, which was hovering between red and yellow, could be classified as yellow.

Watanabe-san and his wife were at home when the earthquake struck. When a tsunami warning was issued he and his wife only had time to move upstairs to the second floor. They were lucky. The brackish water that swept in from the river and the ocean, just a stone’s throw from their front door, and left behind crushed oyster shells, a pooh bear doll, blue and white printed tea cups, and disaster, spared the top floor.

There neighbors, an elderly couple who tried to escape by car, weren’t as lucky.

Now instead of relocating, Watanabe-san has decided courageously to brave the elements and fix the home on the land he and his ancestors have grown up. His family is oyster farmers by trade and this is where they have always worked. Behind his house are what at first appears to be rows of white build materials but upon a close look is ropes and ropes of oyster shells.

An energetic elderly man, who I instantly liked when my eyes fell on his weathered face and he exclaimed that he was happy to have us but admitted to not speak a word of English, he later explained the shells. Every year, beginning in November and lasting until April, the oysters are harvested as a delicacy tourists will come from all over Japan to eat. Millions of oysters are pulled from the sea so in order to ensure that the oyster’s continue to be bountiful, the shellfish farmers, place these ropes of shells back in the ocean for baby oyster’s to grow big and strong to be eaten the following year.

I gazed at the beautiful shells, shades of white to red, and couldn’t help but smile. For Watanabe-san, life has gone on and he has made the best of a situation. This is evident in the tea, and handmade donuts he serves, the udon noodles his wife makes us on the second day and the swing set he’s made for his two year old granddaughter when she comes to visit.

It was easy to forget, with all this hospitality, that we are not here to be pampered, but here in this little community at the edge of the sea, to help him start rebuilding. Surrounded by the water, salt decaying trees unlucky enough to have found their new home flooded, and the pine clad islands that Matsushima is famous for, we are looked over by a small shrine built for the god of the ocean as we gut Watanabe’s home.

Inside there is a grey mark all around the walls, like a ring in a bath tub, well over my head which is as high as the water rose. The windows in the bottom floor are long gone and tarps keep out the gentle sea breeze as I take a hammer to the dry wall and spend a day ripping the walls away to wood frame. The walls, doors, window, and floor board all have to go so that later a carpenter can come along and replace it all so it can be lived in again.

Close to the floor, between the walls, is clogged with tsunami dust, and I found small treasures of a pet bottle filled with the black water that failed to destroy this survivor of a house, a pink lighter, mostly empty, and a wedge or wrapped camembert cheese that no one much  feels like eating.

The first day I work with a small group of foreigners that traveled up together but the following day we are joined by new Japanese friends so that the air is filled with dust and scatter of Japanese and English as Watanabe-san’s house bridged the gap between us.

We worked for an organization called Habitat for Humanity. It’s a non-profit organization that helps out in countries of need to build houses. The division in Japan began ten years ago but after the disaster on March 11, 2011, it got its first chance to go to work in its own country. A chance no one could have hoped for. But still, it’s an amazing organization to volunteer for and we made quick friends with the staff who were kind admirable people who swapped between Japanese and English with as much ease as they handed out tasks to get families back on their feet.

 

On the second day they had a team head to one of the islands to help a family move out their belongings so the entire house can be raised about a foot so that it is livable again. The family will move back in November thanks to Habitat for Humanity and my hard working friends.

A weekend of tearing away dry wall, cleaning, taking down anything rotted and having our hearts warmed by Watanabe-san, lead me to have a quiet moment sitting by the ocean beside the little shrine. The red gate shone magnificently in the amazing sunlight that had sunlight streaming through the clouds in a way you only imagine in movies. I tried to find the word for this place and could only think of the beauty. Despite disaster, the Watanabe’s have retained their little corner of paradise. Behind me I hear the laughter of the group, entertained by the elderly man that radiates spirit, and know first hand there is hope.

 

 

 

On the final day, the day we were set to head home, we returned to Matsushima to take in the beauty to the bay of pine islands from a vantage point above the sea. It was hard to imagine devastation in such a beautiful place. After we journeyed into the little town for a brief walk down a path that led to a temple. It was lined with these tall trees and caves with carving from hundreds of years ago all dappled in a cool sunlight. It was the perfect ending to an incredible experience.

And then it was a long trip home south, through Tokyo, past the new sky tree in our huge bus to Gotenba where we parted ways and hope to meet again to go help up north maybe next month!

And now the days are cool and it's autumn again. How time flies. To think it was a year and a half ago I was awoken by Nikki telling me about the earthquake. I'm so glad that I cam when I did. I'm so glad I braved the fears of the time. And I'm so glad I got the chance to volunteer.