A Belated Conclusion

I’m feeling bad that I never finished journaling my last visit to Japan. The last few days of the trip were too busy to write and when I got home, I just forgot to pick it up, I guess. There’s not much left to tell, but I feel incomplete without this blog’s conclusion. And conclusion, I’m afraid it is. As two out of my last six months have been spent exploring the hidden corners of Miyakonojo and the great wonders of Southern Japan, I feel that it’s time to pursue travel elsewhere. (I must admit, I say this only half-heartedly, as in searching for a ticket to Bangkok earlier today, I researched a stopover in Miyazaki to see Luke before we head to the beaches of Thailand.)

Conclusion of my visits to Nippon or not, I will at least reveal the details of the end of this most recent trip . . .

Following the somewhat ill-fated kyudo lesson (ill-fated in that I remain an undiscovered talent), Luke and I made plans to hike the local volcano, Kirishima. Hiking great peaks always spikes some anxiety in me, thanks to all the perils that accompany mountaineering in Colorado. But, in this area of Japan, this time of year, there are no weather concerns, and as it’s a popular hike, there’s no route finding, scrambling or technical sections, so I was free to enjoy the wander. Except for one tiny thing – the smoking crater and certainly impending eruption.

It turns out it’s not so scary after all. A little crowded, yes (it looked like a line of ants moving up the trail ahead), but not scary. In fact, it was quite pleasant. We made our way out of the parking lot, which actually reminded me of the visitor center on Trail Ridge Road, thanks to the gift shops and tourists with no intention of hiking beyond the Torii gate, and up the trail bordered on each side by lush greenery. Not too far up, the trees and foliage disappear. I’m not sure why – I think it has something to do with the volcanic activity, because common sense would dictate that the latitude and elevation wouldn’t prevent growth. But anyway, from here on out, it’s just scree fields of lava rock. So cool! It’s actually kind of slippery, especially on the way down, but we made excellent time, reaching the summit in just over an hour, I think.

There’s an elaborate shrine at the top, not to mention amazing 360-degree views. And, I totally forgot to share the geological marvels that can be seen on the way to the top. Really, words don’t do this molten mountain justice. For a more vivid description of the layers of brilliantly colored exposed bedrock and bubbling cauldron of a crater, click on the link at the top right to see photos.

We concluded our hike with a visit to Yupopo Onsen, a fabulous, geothermically-powered bath, where I, once again, had to bare all in the presence of curious Japanese women. This time, however, I was much better equipped to handle the stares of those shocked to see a foreigner, much less a tattooed and pierced foreigner, marching into their hot springs, and the ogling of children who had maybe seen just a handful of only clothed Americans ever!


With just a few days remaining before I returned home, Luke and I decided a trip to the beach was in order. When I was in Miyakonojo during the summer, we spent many days on the beach, but because the weather was cooler this time, we weren’t as quick to make it to the sand and waves. Though, it’s no less beautiful in the fall.

We took the long way to the coast, winding through rice paddies and forests still not tinged by autumn’s chill. On the way, we stopped near Obijo castle to buy some beautifully hand-forged knives. It was a bit chilly and windy on the beach, but I still managed to dip my toes in the water and collect a few shells.

The way home lead us through a festival and parade in Nichinan. Looking back on my photos, I realize that the last picture I took was of a parade group gathering in front of the Lawson convenience store. This is probably appropriate and reflective of the time I spent there, as festivals were always my favorite for their food and revelry, and the Lawson, well, I could go on for pages. I admit, sadly, that it’s the equivalent of 7-11, but I just love it so much – they have delicious seaweed-wrapped rice, ice cream and Hello Kitty fans. I couldn’t be more delighted by any other small pleasures.

Kyudo Lessons

I’ll admit, I had this little fantasy that I was an undiscovered archery prodigy. I imagined that I would go to my archery lesson and the teacher would be astounded by my uncanny ability to hit the target on my first try. Humbled, he would ask me to move to Japan and become his star student.

So, it was a huge disappointment when we arrived at the dojo only to have the sensei frown on me – you see, it was unfathomable to him that I was not there to begin years of study. He confirmed with Luke several times that I would only be there once, shaking his head each time and asking again just to make sure, because to him, we sounded crazy. Crazy gaijin girl who just wants to “try” archery.

After his overcame his initial dismay, I was given a plastic handle with an elastic loop for practicing. Obviously, I was nervous – intimidated by the Zen Master, as it were – not to mention a tad disappointed. The bows were sitting right there, why couldn’t I use one of them?

As it turns out, most students practice with the plastic thingy for weeks before they’re allowed to use a real bow, so I guess I was fortunate that I was allowed to even set foot in the dojo.

As we practiced (minus the endless praise I had expected) other students arrived to pursue their study. They, of course, all used bows, bowing before the target each time they set up to shoot their arrows.

The sensei finally reconciled himself to the fact that I would only be there once, and decided that it would be okay if I practiced with a bow. I was very excited, seeing this as an indication that he believed me to be a fast learner, worthy of practicing with a bow my first try. Not really, though, I think he was just warming up to us and decided that it was his only chance to pass along this Zen art to an eager foreigner.

I was so excited, but my excitement was soon replaced by anxiety, as I could not seem to perform the movements correctly. The sensei kept talking to me and adjusting me while Luke rapidly translated – I was a bit overwhelmed. It’s an extremely difficult sport and I can now see why it takes years to learn and lifetimes to master. The only thing I can compare it to is golf. Everything has to be done perfectly and even if it feels like you’re doing it perfectly you never are. Very frustrating.

However, I continued to practice, as awkward and frustrated as I was. The sensei kept coming over and fixing my posture, lifting my elbow, drawing the bow further, etc. – a few times Luke was conversing with someone else and I had to respond to his instructions by myself. I think he was as frustrated as I was, because he knew I didn’t understand and he had no other way of explaining.

After a couple of hours, I was ready to leave, but it was clear we had to stay and finish the class. The other students were very nice, chatting with Luke while I fiddled with the bow. They even encouraged me to study archery back home. When I explained to them that there wasn’t anywhere to study where I lived, they suggested I go to New York, figuring it’s probably only an hour from my house.

I never did get to shoot an arrow, but it was good I got to try it – kyudo, that is. That’s the Japanese name. I think I forgot to mention that before.

At the end of the class, we joined the other students as they finished their practice, bowing to the small shrine on the wall and clapping their hands. I think if I lived in Japan, I would probably study archery – it was a good challenge, despite the Zen intimidation factor.

P.S. There’s no picture for this posting. Luke wanted to snap some photos, but I completely objected, fearing a scolding from the sensei.