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.

Bows & Arrows

I am totally fascinated by archery. I don’t really know why, I just think it’s so badass. Last time I was in Miyakonojo, we visited the local history and culture museum, which is housed in what was the estate of a feudal lord, I think. Anyway, they had all these bows on display and I remember being so impressed by, one, their size, and two, their flawless craftsmanship. The Japanese do everything so perfectly and precisely, and the bows are no exception. After a few moments studying the contents of the display, I decided that I had to be an archer.

Archery is no small undertaking. It’s actually a Zen practice, so you don’t just “dabble” in it. But, it’s not like I really have a choice in my time commitment. I don’t live here and from what I know there’s not like an archery master hiding in the Vail Valley. So, I will just have one shot, if I get to do it at all.

I digress – we haven’t even gotten to the lesson part yet. But I got to do something equally as cool the other day – that is, visit the workshop where they make bows and arrows. This place is rad, and unfortunately, my camera battery died just a few minutes into our visit, so I don’t have many pictures. But, take my word for it – it was amazing.

Apparently, and I did not know this before, Miyakonojo is known for archery. So, this guy who makes the bows, as did his father before him, and his father before him and so on and so forth, sells his work all over the world.

His workshop housed an impressive collection of bows, all slightly different sizes, each with their own unique coloring and grip. The bows are quite large – basically my height. And their strength is measured by the tension of the string.

All bows are made with bamboo – the center layer fused on either side with some other kind of wood. It takes nearly half of a year to complete a bow because of the time it takes to bend the wood – it’s very gradual so that it curves and does not crack.

The string, which used to come from natural materials, is now usually synthetic, because the man-made materials are stronger.

Finished bows are stained or lacquered and the grip is fashioned from different colored leather. Sometimes there are tassels on the ends for decoration. They’re really quite beautiful – I think I would actually put mine on display if I had one. But, that’s the kicker. They cost around $1,000. Yikes! You can get cheaper bows, but the really nice competition pieces are pricey.

While we were at the workshop, I got to try holding the bow and drawing the string back. (I don’t know if I am even close on the terminology. I mean, “string,” that can’t be right!) It is really hard because you have to hold it up above your shoulders, so you can’t use the core of your body for strength. I’m told that it takes weeks to learn how to do this, but I still can’t wait to give it a try.

Happy Halloween

I remember Halloween parties growing up as involving all sorts of games. Mostly games like bobbing for apples or getting blindfolded and sticking your hands in bags of gross slimy stuff and having to guess if it was brains or guts. And, of course, haunted houses, which if staffed by school kids or church people, usually served to create more laughs than fright. Anyhow, as I got older, Halloween turned from trick-or-treating to something a little more risqué, perhaps. That’s because once you pass a certain age, you can’t just dress up as a witch, you have to be a hot witch. If you want to be a fairy, you have to be a sexy fairy. And if you have any thoughts of dressing up as something cute and furry, it had better be a Playboy Bunny. No haggard, frightful shrews to scare away the boys – just lusty temptresses. I think I prefer the scary to the seductive (I would personally rather intimidate than entice), but my costumes become scantier and scantier every year.

At any rate, I am getting off track. The whole point of this story is to share how my participation in a Halloween game at the age of 26 nearly led to ingestion of a fake nail.

So, we arrived at the Miyakonojo Halloween party. Luke as a boxer and I as a fairy. I was thinking we would have some drinks, mingle, maybe dance a little. But, no. First there was a little talent portion – some singing witches who collectively sounded like the Japanese version of the Chipmunks. Followed by a game called, “Pass the Parcel,” or something like that, where you stand in a circle and pass around gift and when the music stops you get to unwrap it. If you’re the one to unwrap the last layer, you get to keep the present. After that, it was time for, for lack of a better name, “Inhale the Large Cream Puff Before Anyone Else.” I was roped into this messy display against my will, as they were in need of another gaijin (foreigner/outsider/stranger, whichever you prefer) participant. So anyway, I was paired up with a Japanese girl who actually spoke quite a bit of English, and we agreed that I, being the American, would do the eating.

So, it works like this. The person eating sits in the chair with her hands behind her back, while her partner, blindfolded, feeds her the pastry. Fine, I thought, I can do this (see, I forgot about that Japanese hot dog guy who holds the world record, so I thought that as an American, I had the contest on lockdown, except for Luke of course, who would kick my ass at pastry eating in the row behind me). Upon taking my seat and prepping to chow down on this giant, powder-covered, baked good, I suddenly realized that my partner had some very long acrylic nails. Yes, long, long, fake fingernails. And, while long nails really gross me out, I decided to forget about it and forge ahead.

It was all fine and good – except for the fact that I was really a slow eater – until we neared the end of the contest and in my hurried chewing I came across a foreign object. Thinking it was plastic from the pastry box or something, I pulled it out of my mouth only to discover my partner’s fingernail. All, I can say is that it tops the list of grossest things that have ever happened to me. And, the worst part was the ensuing awkwardness. I didn’t know if I should tell her that I almost swallowed her fingernail, and hence make her feel embarrassed for wearing cheap nails, or if I should just pretend like I never came across it. I opted for the latter. Surely, she’s still wondering what happened to her nail, probably assuming that it was swept away in the mounds of cream covering the table at the end of the game. But, I will always have to live with the fact that I almost swallowed an acrylic nail while participating in an eating contest at a Halloween party in Southern Japan. Weird.

The remainder of the party was somewhat lackluster in comparison to what could have turned into a digestive debacle. I spent much of the time pulling filo dough and dried cream off my costume and face, while attempting to communicate, in drunken tones, with partygoers who spoke no English. Tired and sticky we made an abrupt exit, escaping all invitations to continue the revelry in great Japanese fashion at a karaoke bar.

Back in the Jo

I had a feeling I would find my way back to Miyakonojo. I just didn’t think it would be quite this soon. But, here I find myself, about two-and-a-half months after my last trip, wandering incompetently throughout this relatively unknown Japanese town. It’s kind of a trip. And wander is kind of a lie. I just got in last night, and thought I’ve ventured to the vending machine for some excellent Japanese coffee, I have mostly been catching up on work and getting glimpses of the World Series on the TV guide channel.

You see, they do televise these games here, because of Daisuke and Matsui, but it’s only on cable, and Luke doesn’t have cable. But one of the channels is split into 16 tiny screens so you can see all broadcasts simultaneously. So, I am watching Rockies baseball players the size of ants take on the Red Sox in a tiny corner of the screen. And, since I can’t see the score, I have to check ESPN.com periodically for an update.

Anyhow, it’s strange to be back here – I mean, who visits Miyakonojo regularly? That’s right, no one. Except for me – driven by the desperation of a long distance relationship to spend thousands of dollars and travel thousands of miles. It’s kind of fun, though. I feel like a jet setter. Yesterday at the airport I felt quite experienced and important finding my way through the familiar routine of getting from one continent to the next. Even another foreigner sought my advice at the entrance to customs. I must look like I know what I am doing.

So, last night, Luke picked me up in Miyazaki – it was raining, of course, because it always rains whenever I go anywhere – and we made the short drive back to Miyakonojo. It’s definitely a lot different to visit this time. The weather is much, much better. Still humid, but a lot cooler. (I worry about having to readjust to the cold when I get home, but I guess it will be nice to be warm for a few more weeks, before I become a skiing popsicle on the slopes of Vail.)

It smells different, too. When I walked out this morning to get some coffee, it was the first thing I noticed. It must be the smell of fall, but it’s much sweeter here than it is in Colorado. Unlike the subtle dry, leafy odor we drink in all through October, this is pungent and thick. I like it though – it complemented well my peek into the temple grounds next door.

I’m not sure what I am going to do today. Luke is at work until late afternoon. He’s actually going to be working the whole time I’m here, which is probably good. I plan on spending the time working and studying for my GMAT. Yuck. But, it sounds like we have some weekend trips planned, and Luke has arranged an archery lesson for me! I am so excited for that.

Hopefully, I will be able to relax and get out a little more on this trip. Last time I was here I had so much work to do, and this short visit seems to have landed fortuitously in a small chunk of time between completion of a few projects and initiation of a few more. So, that’s good.

I think this concludes my first entry. Unless something fascinating happens to me on the way to the Lawson convenience store – you never know!

Sayonara, Part II

And a later date it is. The whole point of my story is now moot. I was trying to explain how my return tickets were for different days. I was to fly out of Miyazaki on August 13 and then out of Nagoya on the 16th. But, as it turns out, I was able to get a flight back to the states right away, so no dillydallying in Nagoya for me – thank goodness!

I suppose that wraps up my trip to Japan. My last week was spent hanging out in Miyakonojo and taking some daytrips with Luke. This adventure culminated in the biggest festival of the year, the Bonchi Matsuri (they must have known I was leaving!). For such an occasion, Luke and I decided to wear traditional Japanese clothing – a yukata, or summer kimono, for me, and a jimbe for Luke.

I was fitted for a yukata at a local kimono shop with some help from Yasue. After trying on a few different patterns, I settled on a dark red robe covered in sakura, or cherry blossoms, and a marigold obi belt.

In preparation for the festival, I put my hair up, as you’re traditionally supposed to do, and left plenty of time to get dressed. I thought it would take me a while to arrange the yukata and conquer the challenge of tying the obi belt, but I managed fine, and we were off to the matsuri.

Luke arranged for us to dance in the parade with the Miyakonojo International Association. We had about 10 minutes to learn the two dances, which no one in the group was really able to pick up. It involved a fan, fancy footwork and a bunch of clapping. I wasn’t too worried, though, as we were in a sea of people, so no one would notice if we were out of step.

I attempted to dance for a little while, but eventually resorted to just sort of walking in the back while fanning myself, running off to the side, every now and then, to snap a photo of Luke looking totally perplexed as he tried to follow the dance leader.

After the parade, we sampled all the festival food and watched performances and drumming in the streets. It was a fantastic way to cap off my trip.

On Sunday, I bought a few last minute souvenirs and packed up before heading out for my last taste of real Japanese sushi – for a while anyway.

But no worries, I think there is more Japan in my future – hopefully sooner than later.

Japanese Lessons

No longer am I the incompetent wretch who arrived in Miyakonojo. No siree, I am learning Japanese! And though two lessons with Luke’s teacher, Yasue, have not made me the intellectual equal of my peers, I communicated quite well with a four-year-old at the park the other day. That is, until we made it past basic introductions and she started saying things I couldn’t understand, at which point I frantically regurgitated the phrase I know best, “Nihongo ga, hanasemasen!” or, “I don’t speak Japanese!”

I may not be headed for fluency, but that does not deter me. Japanese lessons are the best! When I arrive at Yasue’s house, she serves me tea and a snack and we do things like learn to count, and yesterday I practiced writing my name.

It’s like preschool for big kids!

Next lesson we are meeting at a café so I can practice ordering food and asking questions.

Until then, Sayonara!

Check out my ride!

Before I go any further with this blog, I absolutely must share something that has totally enhanced my experience in Miyakonojo. In my last post I mentioned hopping on my bike to go to Sushi Tora. Well, I would be hoofing it all over town if not for the beautiful emerald green cruiser Luke bought for me.

Yes, a brand new sparkling bike with a big basket was given to me the first day I arrived here. I absolutely love it! It is a dream to ride and it’s the perfect way for me to get around since there’s pretty much no shot in hell I would drive on the wrong side of the road.

Konichi Wa

My computer is finally configured to the Japanese network at Luke's apartment! I have been here for nearly a week now, but haven't been able to do anything online as my computer, like me, apparently does not speak Japanese. And then last night, all of a sudden, something clicked. I can only hope the same for myself - at present I am the intellectual equal of a Japanese infant.

Regardless, I really like it here so far. I am in Miyakonojo, a town of about 180,000 on Japan's southernmost major island, Kyushu. It is located in a predominantly agricultural valley surrounded by rolling hills that are covered in the thickest, darkest forests I have ever seen. I can only assume that the foliage is so dense here due to the incredible annual rainfall – outrageous amounts of which seem to be falling since I arrived.

Miyakonojo is located about an hour away from the coastal city of Miyazaki, the prefecture’s namesake. Miyazaki is known as the Japanese surfing Mecca, and while I haven’t spent time there yet, I did fly into their airport, which features a runway that comes straight in from the ocean.

Speaking of arrival, I got here on the evening of July 5 after about three plane rides and 20 hours of travel. Luke picked me up at the airport and we made the hour drive from Miyazaki to Miyakonojo. After getting settled in Luke’s apartment (a small one bedroom with a tiny kitchen and living area, the kind of bathroom where everything gets wet, a very cool tatami bedroom floor and a balcony that’s main purpose seems to be for hanging clothes to dry – not that they do ☺), we made our way down to an Izakaya . . .

(If you feel obligated to read my blog, then I am sorry for the long post. If this is occupying a part of your boring day at work, then by all means, read on. Regardless, this will probably be my longest entry since I have so much catching up to do!)

My understanding of Izakayas is that they are sort of the Japanese equivalent of an English pub. They are pretty mainstream, average restaurants located in every neighborhood as a gathering place for the locals. Anyhow, this is where I had my first Japanese meal of gyoza (dumplings, only these dumplings were wrapped in chicken wings!), salad and something else – I can’t remember exactly what, some mystery meats, I think (maybe tongue?). The owner set up a special plate for us since it was my first night in Miyakonojo.

On Friday Luke had to go to work – he teaches English in public schools through a government-sponsored program. I spent the day trying to catch up on work, despite my lack of connection. When Luke got home we took off sightseeing . . .