Let's study Halloween!

One thing I don’t have to miss about being away from home? Halloween parties. I get all my fun with my kids. And the best part this year was that I have an English room of my very own at Yoshidanishisho so I got to decorate with spider webs and pumpkins getting the kids all super excited. We played this fun janken game where they had to collect the parts for their team skeleton. But the real best BEST part was when the older grades asked if they could dress up for their parties. Who am I to deny a game of dress up so of course I said YES! The results were impressive and as I was still battling a terrible cold, they really cheered me up! Best dressed goes to newspaper mummy who couldn’t even sit down in his costume lol!

Happy Halloween!

And then the leaves began to fall

It’s time for my favourite season of all: autumn. After a couple of weeks of this miserable rain cloud that hung over Fujiyoshida chilling it to a premature 10 degrees, there was finally a beautiful sunny day. Not to waste it, I hurried outside to finally enjoy a bit of warmth if not the last before winter sets in. As Fujiyoshida is at a higher elevation than Otsuki (about 1000 meters above sea-level) that will come sooner than I’d like.

With a package of tissues stored safely in my back pocket (a cold was coming on) and my favourite notebook and pencil, I set out for a little park on the hillside. It’s famous for sakura but since I’d never made it there in time for the pink I thought I’d go for its red counterpart. I was not disappointed. After needing to consult google maps more times than I want to admit I found a little spot up a windy road that looked as if I was going, through someone’s property, and ended up in this lovely little park perched on the edge of the town overlooking the town. The day ended up surpassing me expectations when it became drastically hot and I was dressed in a sweater. Knowing I should be glad for the heat I persisted knowing I had come for a reason. I snapped a few pictures, prayed at the little shrine and settled down at a picnic table to write a short story about a priestess and a koi fish by hand. When I write it’s often on the computer but there is something so good about writing by hand. If only my hands could keep up with my mind then I’d do it more often but as it is I can punch out a few thousand words by keyboard in an hour I'll stick to that for my books. 

 

 

Regardless, it was a nice change to be outside while writing and I soaked up all I could from the inspiring place and headed home.

Of samurai, obi and festivals

Every town in Japan has a festival to call their own. There are most likely millions every year from little local ones celebrating minor gods and the community to huge ones which attract thousands with golden lanterns and portable shrines. Japan is also known for lists of threes. In this case the list of three is ‘three unusual festivals.’ On that list is the fire festival, which I’ve attended all three years I’ve been here, one where these crazies cut down a tree and ride it down a hill, and a third which only takes place every three years: the Shimada obi festival.

 

In the Shimada region of Shizuoka, women would take their obi belts to the shrine to pray for a good marriage, fertility and all those womanly things. However it is said they became embarrassed appearing to pray before so many people so the task of blessing their obi fell to the men. Their men would then take on the task, draping their beloved’s belt over their sword as they paraded to the shrine. Apparently this custom became so popular that during the festival there could be up to a three kilometer line of men bearing the obi of their women.

Anyways, fast forward four hundred years and you find me, Sheena and Kelly at a similar parade on a very hot day in October watching a line of pants-less men dancing to a low steady beat down the street to the shrine. It was really kinda beautiful as the procession went by, each of their movements perfectly timed with the samurai that marched before them. After three hundred meters of samurai passed by, next came a procession of daimyo, a horse and his handlers, a tengu, boys that danced with fans, several parade floats and a portable stage displaying a doll retelling of a local folktale.

Finished with the parade we went to the shrine which was in a lovely little park with koi fish, a red bridge, statues of the samurai and a wood cut-out so I too could be a dancing pants-less man of Shimada! 

 

It was hot, and I might have been a little sun-burned so after paying our respects at the shirne we headed back for Yamanashi.

Sarah and Kevin climb a mountain

Some days you wake up and never want to get out of bed. Other times you get up to find the sky blue and the air cool. You think to yourself ‘why not hike a mountain today?’ So that is precisely what I did with my Sunday. I texted Kevin and asked if he might care to join me and a few hours later we met at Mitsutoge park, combined our picnics together and set our course uphill.

The hike was absolutely beautiful. The cooler altitude was already painting the leaves red and the sunlight shone through the forest canopy dappling the rough trail with warm light. Every break in the trees offered a stunning view of the valley floor as we crept higher. In the distance Mt. Fuji towered over Fujiyoshida. We stopped often for breaks and Kevin found himself sitting on a wood dragon disguised as a log.

After about the first two hours, the trail got a bit less steep and opened up onto a little clearing. There were a bunch of stone markers and over eighty Buddhist statues all dressed in red. It was a very peaceful little rest point. After that we crossed a land bridge with a forested drop on either side, and found ourselves halfway around the mountain with an even better view of Fuji. There was this precarious point on the path where it looked prone to landslides and then in our excitement we scared ourselves up a bear!

Continuing around the mountain was a cliff face, where rock climbers were doing their thing, and beyond that a miniature waterfall squeezed water so pure from the rock I couldn’t resist a drink. The trail twisted and turned in, out and over little autumn flecked ravines, a bridge or two, past a few abandoned buildings and up to the base of the last leg. Here our final obstacle was these brutal stairs that’s sole purpose was to get in the hikers way. I suppose over years of erosion some of them gave way so instead of being helpful and horizontal they stick up uselessly and vertical. One must now step over the stair in order to make it to the top.

And there we were at last! It was magnificent. The sun was low and golden, casting a flattering light over the world. We were high enough to be able to see the cliff to the left, Tsuru beneath us, Fuji to the right and then Kofu behind us. 1700 meters. Three times the height of little old Iwadono-san in Otsuki. We ate some lunch (maybe early dinner at that point,) admired the view until the wind grew cold and made our descent.

As we had a late start it was no surprise that we ended up doing the second half of the descent in the dark. But we made excellent time hiking down and got to the car around six making it five hours up and down. Decent use of a day off. The day was finished with pizza and hot chocolate as every hike should be.

Sunset over Fuji

After this amazing day on the edge of a typhoon the sun lit the evening sky in fantastic colours and left us with the most amazing sunset. I looked out my window, open to the summer breeze even in October, and saw the sky in cotton candy pinks and blues and knew I had to run out with my camera.

So glad I did! Even the mountain was this amazing colour as all the ridges and personality were visible in the clear night. I love Mt. Fuji!

A weekend of volcanic activity

For as long as I can remember Sheena and I have talked of going to Kusatsu in Gunma prefecture. She had already been the year before I came to Japan but it had been cold and wet and they never made it up Mt. Shirane to see the caldera lake, presumably the source of such a wonderful onsen town. So on a bright Saturday morning we packed up, drank lots of coffee and headed north with Stephanie and Laura to the perfect weekend.

Most of Saturday was dedicated to just getting there. Once we got off the expressway in Gunma the drive was really pretty along the local roads past these beautiful forested hills with precarious stony cliffs that looked like they came straight from water-coloured paintings of ancient Asian scrolls. Very pretty. By the time we got to our hotel it was late in the afternoon so we just checked in to this lovely resort, complete with people that carried our bags and escorted us to our room and everything! A little refreshed we caught a shuttle bus and road it into town centre. Kusatsu’s central plaza must be like none other I’ve ever seen, or that even exist, for right in the middle of a quaint iconically old-fashion Japanese village is the main hot spring source: Yubatake. The basin of natural hot spring water is said to the most productive hot spring source in Japan and at the very least is the most dramatic in my opinion. The air was filled with the smell of sulfur and puffs of white steam as the water pumped from the ground was far too hot to touch. It brought with it a beautiful array of minerals that settled down into the wooden water ducts and little stone pool turning everything it touch to a soft milky green colour.

 

 

After circling the water field a few times, it was time for the yumomi performance. I’m not sure how it’s done in modern time but in the old days, in order to cool the 90 degree water, the hot spring would be stirred with large paddles before being distributed to the various bathhouses and ryokan in the area. Apparently if cold water is simply added, it ruins the benefits of the minerals. The water in Kusatsu is said to cure everything but heartache. Off the narrow streets now, the four of us filed into an atmospheric little bathhouse and sat before a wooden bath of baby blue water awaiting the dance to begin. Before long several older women wearing traditional kimono came in and performed the ritual of cooling the water to a rhythmic song in time to the beats of the paddles. They took a break for the audience to give it a try, I stuck to my picture taking, and then continued on at a greater frenzy. This time without any warning the slammed the paddles down and using old-lady muscles that put my young body to shame they beat the water sending it soaring into the air in great surprising splashes. Now I understood how playing with a giant wooden spoon in some hot water might cool it down.

Back in the cool night air we did a bit of shopping, exploring the narrow lantern lit alleyways with the dramatic backdrop of the surrounding mountains at the end of the lanes. The sun was setting and for the first time this year I began to feel a bit chilly. It was a good feeling to know a hot bath of our own would await us at the end of our adventure. We returned to the hot spring field to find it lit up in gold and blue lights as night quickly approached. I could not get enough of the charming old buildings, puffs of foggy steam and beautiful water source in my viewfinder. It all came together so atmospherically and the best part was we’d been down there long enough to no longer notice that the place smelled of rotten eggs. Or maybe that was how charmed we were that it no longer mattered. It was with a content heart I cast a final gaze over the now dark scene and rode the bus with my friends back up the hill to our hotel.

 

The rest of the evening was dedicated to food, drink and bathing. The wash, rinse and repeat way. Dressed in our yukata and fresh from a bath, we feasted like queens on tabehodai of steak, gratin, pasta, prawns, tempura, sashimi and potato fries and nomihodai of plum wine and tropical cocktails. Returning to the room I thought I’d sleep forever but we opted for a late night bath and sunk into the mineral rich waters of the outdoor pool a little longer. The pool was lovely in the evening with a hot waterfall cascaded a jade mineral over the rock face and various stones to lounge about on. I slept so well that night, if even for a short time as we had a schedule the next morning. We woke around eight, bathed again, oh how nice it is to lay about in a hot spring whenever one feels like it, and had another tabehodai at breakfast: French toast, every type of egg, bacon, croissants, fresh fruits and coffee. To the average Canadian that sounds like a shrug-worthy meal but in Japan it’s rare to find what I constitute as a ‘proper’ breakfast.

 

After check-out we piled into the car, still a little comatose from our luxury, and headed further up into the hills beneath an overcast sky. I was excited for the day’s excursion, a trip up to the crater lake on Mt. Shirane, but was a little put out by the clouds. As it turned out, I had nothing to fear for we broke high above the clouds at an altitude of 2000 meters-above-sea level. Up there it was nearly alpine with little shrubberies and highland grasses instead of intimidating trees and on the horizon the over cast sky was nothing more than a sea of clouds beneath us. It was quite breathtaking. We stopped often for more pictures and finally found ourselves at the top of Mt. Shirane.

From the parking lot it was another twenty minutes up a stone path under the purest blue sky I’ve seen in ages along a landscape of scorched rocks from a long forgotten eruption. The sky! My gods the sky was magnificent! The rocks so red, the plants so green and the crater lake so spectacularly milky blue! It was blue like turquoise cut with cream. The red ridges surrounding it were amazing and in the distance the sea of clouds did magnificent things to the lower mountains painting them all shades of blue.

 

After quite a while of shooting pictures we headed back down to the parking lot and across the road to a second volcanic lake the made up for a lack of drama with a sense of peace. The air tasted of autumn and the leaves were frosted in red. Each of us found a little place that called out to us and found a seat to contemplate the beauty from a different perspective around the water. It was kinda cool that despite not communicating our intentions, we each settled down to a state of meditation. We must have looked like some sort of gaijin checkpoints each on a different spot on the boardwalk nearly perfectly spaced apart.

It’s always hard to say goodbye but the day was waning and we still had to return all the way to Yamanashi. We stopped only a few times, once for pictures of a quaint stone bridge all ready for autumn and twice for coffee and then it was home.

With my list of prefectures completed I hope to spend most of winter lounging about in baths and doing little weekend trips such as this one. Thanks Sheena, Steph and Laura for an awesome time!