I'm looking for...

I know it's been a while since I've blogged- Lately I've had trouble trying to write tweets more frequently, let alone longer blog posts. Plus, kinda sadly, there doesn't seem to be much to report about vein back in Japan. Same experiences and troubles as before, though it's become so normal for me that I don't find the need to report about it as much. I will try, when I can, but don't hold your breath.

One thing I did want to share however, was this. Definitely brought a smile to my face while going trough another class-worth of markings.

buddhist disneyland

A friend told me about 'Buddhist Disneyland' a while back, but I didn't really pay much attention then. I just figured Buddhism and Disneyland were mutually exclusive, so anything that used both words in the same sentence just didn't seem... right. Plus, There were still some huge tourist places that I still had yet to visit, so the prospect of wandering around a Buddhist cemetery over tourist attractions, food and phone straps didn't really sound that appealing.

However, now that a few years have passed where I've visited the large touristy places, eaten more than I could possible imagine, and *sniff sniff* my much-cherished phone straps are now an endangered species, Buddhist Disneyland doesn't sound like that crazy of an idea. Also, with its reputation of being a photogenic spot, I felt kinda obliged to make a visit there to justify my SLR purchase last year, which has been gathering dust since for the past eight months or so. So, with friend in tow, it was off to Buddhist Disneyland, or as it is more commonly known, Okunoin.

I don't know what it is about the place, but despite it being a cemetery that's been in place for centuries and considered the largest graveyard in the country, it doesn't have the same vibe that makes me creeped out when I walk past cemeteries in other countries.

why is your head so small?

I don't know why, but I distinctly remember being in year 8, sitting in the art room learning about life drawing. We were drawing portraits of our friends for a project when my art teacher explained people's body's proportions. I was surprised to find out that a person's arm span is the same length as their height, and that a person's eyes are generally centred on the middle of the face, rather than being  on the upper third of the face. I also remember being told that when drawing people in cartoons, a character's body is roughly height of 4-6 of the characters heads, and for realistic drawings, their height the equivalent of about 8 heads. Why exactly I still remember this after all these years, and a thing from my French classes in uni, is still a mystery, since I didn't really think knowing the amount of heads in a person's body was ever a useful thing to really know. But it is something I can't stop thinking about since this week.

Sitting at my desk on my computer, I overheard most of the other teachers talking about effective print club techniques, such as using peace sign hands to frame your face, and holding your hand up closer to the camera than your face. 

"So when you hold up your hand to the camera, your hand looks much bigger, and makes your face look much smaller in comparison."

"Is that so? I just thought all the girls did it because it was cool."

"Well, not really. Japanese people have big heads, you see, a lot bigger proportionally compared to foreigners. Just look at Narin."

Hearing my name, I instinctually look up to see if someone called me name, only to see the whole staffroom looking back, silently admiring my (supposedly) small head. After the eternally long pause, and probably noticing my discomfort being stared at, someone mentions,  "Narin, your head is very small!", as if to appease my obvious awkwardness.

"Um... Thank you?" Awkwardness not exactly appeased, but soon enough, people stop staring and go back to their regular conversations. 

Awkwardness, staring, and not understanding what exactly is going on? It must be Thursday.

not in kansas anymore

You know that awkward, first day at a newschool feeling? In theory, you know what you’re in for: Being with a new group of students and teachers, a new schedule, and new environment. It’s all the same, but slightly different than before, so even though you’ve done this whole ‘school’ thing before, you still don’t quite know what to expect.

Turns out, even though my school days are well behind me, I still can’t shake that feeling. I’m sure it doesn’t really help either that my workplace also just happens to be a school.

After working at a handful of schools, I thought I had this English teaching thing down. Knowledge of what the present participle is? Check. Handful of games and lesson ideas that incorporate some form of grammar point? Check. Ability to deflect boys’ inappropriate questions (and also their anal-probing fingers)? Check.

What I forgot to prepare for though, wasthe fact that I’m now teaching in Osaka. I’m out of the quaint little town in Gifu and into one of the largest cities in Japan. Despite living in Melbourne, I feel like a country bumpkin who has moved to the big smoke. I’m absolutely swamped with students – 13 classes of 40 students as opposed to 6 classes of 35– and feel it’s even more impossible now to remember the sheer number of students' names. As a result of more classes, it also means I see each class only once aweek, some every fortnight, which also has resulted in me taking charge of the whole lesson to compensate. I know I can do the assisting part of the Assistant Language Teacher thing, but teaching? For a whole lesson? In my old school, sure I took charge of classes, but it was more like elective classes and when the English teacher was away – I was responsible, but at the same time, I wasn’t completely responsible in the event that no work was actually done.

Everything I did learn about Japanese schools may have also been only applicable to my schools in Gifu, too. I got the weirdest looks after asking what junior high school festival was, since it never really happened in Gifu. Chalk it up to paranoia, maybe, but I swear there was a slight condescending tone when I asked if the students ate kyushoku, or the school lunch. “Oh, how quaint. You had kyushoku at junior high in Gifu. We only have that in preschools and primary schools. You know, just for the little kids.” 


Okay, maybe they didn't say that, but I knew they were thinking it. I could tell by their looks. 

an ikea lover's dream

This would be a post showing you pictures of everything in my place, but seeing the lack of anything in my apartment, it seems pictures aren't really necessary. That, plus it's not the largest place in the world - my apartment in Gifu seems like a mansion in comparison. Not that I'm too overly upset about it - I guess it's the price you pay when you're actually close to a major city in Japan, and your train station is literally only a few stops away from the city centre. And yes, the fact I'm starting from scratch with a newly-rented apartment (and not inheriting a bunch of stuff from numerous previous English teachers) means just about every day I'm spending a good chunk of money to buy something that my apartment needs. I'm pretty much only limited by what fits in my bike basket, or up until yesterday, what I could carry home from the station. 

Trying to make lemonade out of lemons, it does give me the freedom to furnish and design my apartment the way I want. Also, while my apartment isn't the most spacious, I'm fortunate enough to be living in a country that is well-versed in space efficiency. I don't have room for a dish-drying rack beside my sink, but not to worry, as apparently they make overhanging dish-drying shelves. 

I also just heard that one of Ikea's few Japanese stores is in Osaka, so I am thinking fulfilling my dream of designing a room straight out of an Ikea catalogue. Yep, I know - who said you can't dream big?

japan take two

As evidenced by the lack of posts on this blog, I've struggled to find things that were noteworthy enough to write about coming back to Melbourne. As much as there is in Melbourne, it just doesn't seem as exciting after living in a foreign country where buying groceries in a different language seemed like an adventure. And while I do appreciate the extensive varieties of cheese and bread on offer at supermarkets, I just don't feel 'Coles' and 'adventure' belong in the same sentence. 

But, in theory, this whole blogging deficiency is about to change. Despite deciding to come back to Melbourne this time last year after tiring of the feeling of starting again that came every year teaching English in Japan, I'm packing my life up and heading there yet again. Am I crazy? Yeah, probably a little. But this year back home and with friends have really put things in perspective. Sure my friends are awesome, and Melbourne really is the place to be, it just might not be the place for me at the moment. The jobs that I really want are few and far between, and involve Japan in some way or another. On top of that, those jobs are also looking for native-like fluency in Japanese, which I still feel isn't where I want it to be. So, all signs seem to point to Japan a second time around. 

While I can't guarantee more adventures that will equal discovering Jesus, or even days at work that are as traumatic memorable as before, my fingers are crossed that at the very least, it involves more food adventures and of course, the resumption of my favourite pastime. 

reminiscing about sendai

 I, like everyone else around the world, have been glued to the screen watching the news coverage in Japan. And like everyone else, I just don't know how to put into words how I feel about the whole tragedy, and can't even begin to imagine how those remaining in Tohoku feel. Their homes, family and friends - their lives - wiped out in an instant, and continue to live in fear of aftershocks on top of a nuclear situation. My heart really goes out to them. It's sad to think that one of the last places I visited in Japan before returning to Australia probably won't ever be the same.

Stepping off the shinkansen in one hot summer day in August last year, I had no idea what to expect from Sendai. Essentially, it was just a town that up north that I felt I should see; What exactly it was that I was supposed to see there, I had no idea. But travel fatigue had set in, and I was tired of moving from place to place every day. So rather than spending a day in Sendai and another in nearby Niigata, I booked a hotel for two days and hoped I would find stuff to keep me occupied for the time.

Although I had heard of this 'Tanabata festival' that was pretty huge there, I pretty much just ignored all information about it, thinking it wasn't really relevant to me. After all, Tanabata is celebrated all around Japan, it from my previous experience, it just involves people tying their handwritten wishes to a bamboo tree, and eating star-shaped jelly for school lunch. Plus, in Gifu it's celebrated in July, so I thought my chance to see a larger festival with more bamboo and star-shaped foods was over.

As I walked around the station and saw the giant paper lanterns adorning everything, however, it slowly dawned on me that I maybe should have read up on the Tanabata festival a little more. Maybe the people of Sendai weren't just being lazy and hadn't neglected to take down their month-old decorations.

Being in a town that was known for its festival, it's needless to say that it was pretty packed. But as an avid Japanese festival fan, I couldn't really complain. With the crowds of people came fireworks, performances, a cheerful atmosphere, and of course, stalls upon stalls of festival food.

It was a weird sense of denouement going to my last festival in Japan, and seeing how much had changed since the first festival I went to during my first week in Gifu. Rather than wanting to try every single food offered at the food stalls, I avoided the often-questionable beef skewers and made a beeline straight for the jaga butter and takoyaki. The novelty of seeing people wearing yukatas had worn off so much that I barely batted an eyelid seeing young guys rocking a yukata with orange crocs and anime hair.

Festival celebrations aside, there was more than enough things to fill my time. Initially it does feel like most other towns in Japan, but walking through the city, you notice the history of the area reflected in everything you see. The town is famous for being established by Date Masamune, who, according to my academic research, is a famous eyepatch-doting samurai that wields up to six swords at once and speaks in a mix of Japanese and English. Okay, so maybe the creators of anime may have exercised their artistic licence on the part, but still, his impact can still be felt in Sendai. Crescent-shaped designs - an homage to Masamune's famous helmet - is incorporated into architecture, street signs, and street lamps throughout the city.

Maybe it's the stories that Masamune was also gourmand that made food a focus there, or maybe it was the food that influenced his decision to relocate there. Either way, it's a city that takes its cuisine very seriously - it's said to be the origin of quite a few different foods, like zunda mochi, hiyashi chuka, and most famously, gyutan. Gyutan is itself is ox tongue that is lightly seasoned, sliced, and grilled, which has become a delicacy all over Japan. It's said to have originated in Sendai after WWII - Occupation forces stationed there often threw away the tail and the tongue, so one restaurant owner decided to use this cheap cut of beef at his restaurant. The restaurant became popular, and now, it's seen in just about every yakiniku restaurant in Japan.

I like the idea of Sendai and gyutan; It shows the people's resilience in tough times, the ability to make the most of what they have, and prosper. Let's hope the spirit of gyutan in Sendai, Tohoku, and the rest of Japan still lives on.

detour to japan

So, after three years in Japan, what skills do I have to show for it? 

... Yeah, I'm not quite too sure either. While some friends specialise in law, or accounting, all that I seem to have expertise in is teaching English to Japanese students, which isn't as useful or transferable as you'd think it would be.

It does, however, make me qualified and experienced enough to do what every other other Melbourne JET seems to do when they come back to Australia; write an article for the local Japanese language newspaper. Trying to avoid the typical narrative of a foreigner finding themselves in a strange and exciting new environment, I decided to go a different route. You know, write something a little more cultured and learned, much like many of the posts on this blog. 

I guess if my current career pursuits reach a dead end, I could always consider a career in writing in some way shape or form... Once my article about well-hung green characters sets the Melbourne-based, Japanese literary world on fire, that is. 

tastes winey to me.

"Well, you say 'Sauvignon Blanc', and everyone will just expect a wine that tastes like passionfruit juice."

...Well, everyone except for me, apparently. I've been wanting to do the winery thing for a while, just because it seems like what people my age do. And I do drink wine, so it didn't seem like a completely crazy idea. Plus, my aunt was visiting from the UK, so we figured it was the best option for showing her Australia. She's a stickler for all things traditional, and not a fan of modern art or architecture at all, so the idea of showing her Melbourne CBD was out of the window. Although, knowing that she sails around Europe regularly and goes to the South of France to stock up on wines, we probably should have thought about it a bit more.

So after drinking some fumés, sauvignon blancs, pinot noirs, and learning about the differences in altitudes where the grapes are grown, I learnt a lot. And then promptly forgot as soon as I drank the next wine. All the wines I thought were alright were the same ones that my aunt detested. I think drinking generic 'white wine' that was the only available wine in Japan has really screwed my taste buds up.

two little pigs

I know this shouldn't come to a shock to people who know me, but I like food. A lot. So, after taking a photo of the upteenth coffee while out with friends, I decided to listen to their suggestion and start another blog to focus on food... um... moreso than this one. Here's a post from that blog, eat-a-ducky. They'll be less blog copying and pasting from now on though, I promise. 

In two days time, people all over the world will be surrounded by friends and family and enjoying each other's company in this festive time of the year. And presumably, this will also involve my favourite pastime: food. It's the only time of the year where it's not just justified, but expected of people to gorge themselves on a week's worth of food in a single sitting. For many, this involves Christmas ham or turkey. And for the lucky few, it involves turducken.

In our house, however, we somehow acquired the tradition of half a Chinese roast pig. I'm not sure how it started, but according to the legends (i.e. my dad), someone got sick of the inevitable ham-leftover meals and decided to order a pig from a Chinese restaurant. It turned out to be a resounding success, and now, my family spends most of the year fantasizing about the next Christmas pig. Family gatherings will inevitably lead to discussion of how much pork will be consumed, which family members are letting the team down (the dreaded salad eaters), and the next generation of rising stars.

So when my mum ordered a whole piglet two years ago, we were a little more than excited. Could our family be able to completely devour a whole animal in a single sitting, or would this little piggy get the better of us? For us, this was our Everest. Sure, we can't run that fast, and we're far off from creating the facebook, but we can damn well eat.

And after marathon seating over lunchinnerupper, we finally did it. There were obstacles to overcome (lettuce-munching cousin, I'm looking at you), but it was an incredible exhibition of teamwork at our dinner table. When my brother was finally overcome with meat sweats, or my cousins couldn't stand any more pork crackling, those on the bench got their second or third wind, piled it onto their plates and soldiered on. My dad and my uncle valiantly fought over the the scraps of pig that the others couldn't stomach. Our motley crew of 12 managed to finish that whole pig once and for all. We could all go home with our heads held high.

Family: 1, Roast Pig: 0

Our sense of self-satisfaction didn't last very long though.Returning home from our relative's place with smug, satisfied looks on our faces, my mum mentions there's one more surprise this Christmas. "I know how much you guys love roast pig, but isn't it bad that you can't eat as much pork as you want because your cousins eat most of it? That's why I ordered two pigs! One just for us!"

I looked at the pig sitting on our dining room table and my heart sank. It felt like some terrible teen horror movie where you think the bad guy has died, only to find it calmly waiting in the darkened living room.

Let's hope this year doesn't require calling for reinforcements (read: hungry friends) to finish the job. I guess as much as I love Christmas food, even I have my limits.  

belated gastronomic adventures

Thai Basil Chicken "Ga Prow" inspired burger-
Chicken patty, lettuce, roasted capsicum with basil stir-fry sauce and egg in a Turkish bread roll.

I used to pride myself in liking food more than the average person. But now? I'm not so sure. Turns out, while I was away in Japan, someone took my two favourite pastimes - food and reality TV - combined them, and created one of the hugest trends in Australia in the last few years. I still can't believe that a cooking show forced the Australian federal election to be rescheduled to avoid competing for TV ratings.

I guess for everyone else in Australia, they may not have noticed this change, but after an extended absence, the change is so drastic it feels like it's just being dangled right in front of my face. I left Melbourne thinking I knew a bit about food since I knew how to bake chocolate chip cookies, but now I'm meeting people who know how to temper chocolate. And I had no idea scooping ice cream could actually become outdated. Scoops of ice cream with whipped cream, wafer, and cherry on top? Pfft, please. That is so 2000 and late. More like quenelles of vanilla-bean ice cream served with crème chantilly, cherry compôte, and almond tuile.

Gingerbread + Snickerdoodles = I'm a genius.
Or, so I thought until I googled "gingerdoodles" five minutes ago.

Don't get me wrong; vanilla bean ice cream and almond tuiles sound awesome, but I just can't believe this has happened in my absence. And now, thanks to my current employment status, I've got the time to make Heston Blumenthal's ridiculously simple chocolate mousse, and my own experiments with food (gingerdoodles anyone?), but no shows to watch to give me new (and probably more original) recipes to try out. Sure, due to their booming popularity, they'll probably be back in 2011, but will everyone be over the bandwagon just as I'm hopping on?

nectarine-shu

So, needless to say, judging by my regular involvement with Japanese conversation nights, deciding prospective employment based on whether it involves Japanese, and the fact I find myself watching Japanese cowboy movies, it's safe to say I'm still not over Japan.

I really did try to prepare for this. Knowing my life in Melbourne would be devoid of 100 yen goods, quality stationery, ubiquitous convenience stores filled with seasonal confectionery, and cheap karaoke, I stocked up on pens, consumed every type of Kit Kat imaginable, and sang my arse off. By the time I got to Tokyo, I was in full "don't know the next time I'll be here" mode, and making sure there was no butter-flavoured chip unbought, and no sushi uneaten. Sure, my last sushi meal in Tokyo was like $60, but when else would I be able to food this fresh, and eat uni straight from its shell?

And sure, to some extent it worked; I don't really have much of an urge to eat raw fish on rice, and I've definitely OD'ed on Kit Kats - I've still got a couple sakura green tea flavoured Kit Kats in my pantry that I have no urge to eat. But there's one thing I do miss probably more than the adequate amount.

Umeshu. With a lack of mixed spirits available, and not being the biggest fan of sake, it was my other option when I wasn't feeling like beer. It was the drink of chilled Friday nights at home with friends, and my drink of choice at karaoke. I sampled it all around Japan - the Shikwasa umeshu down south in Okinawa, the red-shiso type in Nagano, and sipped some locally-produced ones after a long day of snow festival-ing in Hokkaido. It's the drink I associate with Japan - nay, it's the drink I associate with the last few years.

Yes, I know this makes me sound like a raging alcoholic, but my point is, I like this drink, and am still trying to fathom how I can still enjoy it in Melbourne for $35 when it used to cost me less than $5. I did try to bring some back, but because of duty free alcohol limits, it was less than I wanted. It doesn't help as well I have this issue with trying to ration things, in which I essentially don't use or eat things for fear of using them up, but end up never using them at all, or find the food's expired before I've even sampled it. It's for this same reason I blu-tack stickers on things rather than, well, stick them - I'm paranoid I'll have a sticker emergency and will actually need to use that sticker properly later.

Anyway, back to the point: What's a guy to do when a future without his favourite drink awaits? Why, try to make it himself of course! Fortunately for me, it's much easier than brewing beer or making wine - essentially just steeping sugar and ume in some alcohol for a few months to a year, and drinking the result. It's just so simple! Which is why it seemed like such a good idea to bring back a large 4-litre glass bottle made specifically for umeshu-ing. As long as I had this bottle, I could make it whenever I wanted, right?

Um... yeah. Turns out there's a couple more obstacles in my way making it a little bit more difficult.

Shochu's kinda expensive in Australia, as expected, but I have heard of other umeshus being made with other alcohol, like brandy. I didn't really do much of a search, but I couldn't find the rock sugar that's normally used either, but my favourite umeshu has honey in it, so I could probably use that when I make it...

Oh yeah, and one other minor problem. Ume (Japanese plums) doesn't look like its available in Australia at all. Yeah, just a minor hiccup in my quest to make Japanese plum wine.

While shopping though, I stumbled across some unripened nectarines. They kinda looked like Japanese plums, though bigger and not as green. Plus, I looked up 'nectarine' in Japanese, and one translation came up as 'sour peach' and ume are quite tart.... So with my in-depth research and analysis complete, I bought a kilo and started hunting down the rest of the ingredients.

And here's the finished product. Although it won't be ready to drink for another few months, let's hope it tastes just like how I remembered. Or, well, drinkable. Or safe for human consumption. I really shouldn't set my standards too high, considering I have, you know, zero of the three original ingredients.

sukiyaki western django

Hey blog, long time no see. Sorry bout that. It's not you, really. It's me. It's just hard to find stuff to blog about when you're looking for work and spend most of your time with Ellen and Dr. Phil. And as much as I like Ellen and watching movies, I don't really feel it's quite as blogworthy compared to traveling or life in Japan.

But coming back from the cinema and switching on the TV, I felt the need to blog again after seeing a movie that reminded me of Japan. It was one that I had seen on DVD when I was there with a few friends, but being a Japanese movie without subtitle options made it a bit hard to fully understand everything that goes on in the movie.

Especially when the cowboy starts quoting Shakespeare.

Yep. Japanese cowboys and Shakespeare. With a touch of Quentin Tarrantino. It's also completely in English, but with the patchy and varying English language abilities of the cast, it's a little hard to follow when some of the actors go into their monologues. Subtitles do help though, especially when they're occasionally poorly translated and add to the entertainment value.

Favourite scene: The antagonist, Kiyomori  (who insists on being called 'Henry'), finds himself up against a travelling priest who whips out his gatling gun.

Oh Japan. Who knew that watching cowboys with boyband haircuts speaking questionable English would make me miss you so much?

marketing in the boroughs

When I planned on meeting up with my friends while in Londontown (Yes, because of Kanye West, I will henceforth only refer to the capital of England as Londontown) and they asked me what I wanted to do while I was there, I really had no idea. I've already been there a couple times before and done the stereotypically tourist things, like see Tower Bridge, Big Ben, and London Eye, and with the travel fatigue setting in, I really didn't care. I mainly just wanted to catch up with friends over a coffee and a meal. Or five. I was just hoping they had a couple ideas to find food.

Boy, am I glad I left the sightseeing plans in their capable hands. Well, I guess there was less of an emphasis on seeing sights and more so on eating and sampling foods. Only five minutes into arriving at the Borough Market and I was glad I made it. Based on stereotypes I guess, I wouldn't normally associate England with quality food, but that's about to change.

Olives on top of olives, mushroom patés, whoopie AND banoffee pies, It was all too much for someone who probably dedicates way more than the adequate amount of time thinking about and consuming food. Then there were the cheeses.

Wheels of comté, thousands of types of parmesans I had never seen, and drunken cheese. I didn't even know cheeses could get drunk. But wow, it was pretty good. Makes me wonder what other foods would be better if they were inebriated.

why won't you take my money?

"That's 10.75 euro, please."

Says the cash register lady. Or so I assume. I don't understand Spanish or Catalan, nor can I tell the difference between the two, so I just looked at the price that popped up on the register and handed over my€50 euro note. It's all I had in my wallet, other than receipts, so I mistakenly assumed that she would appreciate it.

Cash register lady flashes me the dirtiest look ever. I feel like I've just slapped her in the face, or just told her she has an ugly kid. It's the biggest greasy I have seen since, well, the last time I used the term "give someone a greasy". She stands there, mutters something and waits ever so patiently for some different moneey. I don't, but she doesn't seem to take that as an answer even when I show her my only 5 cent euro coin. Fortunately, my brother was there to show all the chance he had too, for her to pick out the coins she wanted and give some change.

I left the shop sheepishly, feeling guilty that I had even attempted trying to pay for something with a note that big. What was I thinking, expecting people to accept payments with cash? I wonder what Spanish people do when they get crisp €50 bills from the ATM. Do they just give the ATM a dirty look until it spits out smaller ones?

weiner schnitzels and apple strudels

It's really not like me at all. Usually I do a bit more prep before I travel, like check wikitravel and make a list of stuff to do at the destination. Knowing I was heading to vienna for a few days with my brother, I started my list:

• weiner schnitzels
• apple strudel

... And that's as far as I got. Three full days in a country, and that's all I had. Even after wikitraveling, there were a few places I thought I should check out, but my list didn't really get any longer.

Vienna did turn out to be an awesome place to visit. Especially after the whole Japan thing and seeing temples on top of temples, it really did give me a greater appreciation of churches and European-style buildings.


And yes, after three days in Vienna, I can now say I've checked off everything I aimed to do there. All two of them. I'm still recovering from all the giant schnitzels though. Ordering a schnitzel resulted in two plate-sized pieces of meat on top of a mountain of chips. I think Japan's got me used to eating smaller portions that are probably closer to an amount that you should be eating.

rice paddies and old ladies

Okay, so one of the primary reasons for me travelling to the North of Honshu was to see Jesus, it was also a way to check off the Tohoku region from my checklist of places I've visited in Japan. Going there, I can now say I've visited all of the main regions of Japan, as well as visiting more than half of all the prefectures in Japan too.

But other than Jesus, what else is there to actually see in Tohoku? Sure they've got a couple festivals that are quite famous, but if I mistime my trip, will there be other famous attractions? I asked some of the other teachers and friends what there was to see, and they all replied with the same thing.

Inaka. In other words, "The country. Middle of nowhere. Bumpkintown." Some of the other more tactful teachers told me that it was a wonderful place to go to see nature, which is essentially a kinder way of saying there's nothing to see.

And, turns out, they were right. It was very inaka. Rice fields and greenery stretched out far into the horizon, and the high-rise buildings were fewer and further between. Deciding to embrace the "nature" or middle of nowhere-aspect, I figured I should make my way to Inakadate see some rice fields while I was in Northern Honshu.

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. And when life gives you rice fields, you make giant pictures of Yoshitsune and Benkei, right? It was about a 45 minute walk from the station, and with the amount of sightseers from around Aomori, climbing the one biggish building in Inakadate just to see this rice field, it did mean I only had enough time to see the ricefields for about ten minutes, but it was totally worth it.

Incidentally, it was also the time I realised one of the benefits of traveling alone; You can be as poorly planned as you want, and not have to worry about annoying or disappointing anyone else. I looked up the previous night how to get to Inakadate by train, and just assumed I could get there once I arrived at the station. It's essentially like assuming you can walk to Tokyo Tower once you get off at Tokyo Station. I'm sure there probably was a better way to get there by bus or something had I researched or asked around, but despite the heat, I did enjoy the freedom of finding my way there.

It turns out, as a random walking around a small village alone, it does draw some attention, as I found out from an old lady waiting at the train station. She saw me walking to the station, and wondered what I was doing in such a small town. Or, that's what I assumed she was asking about. I also found out that Northern Honshu has its own dialect; one which is incomprehensible to even Japanese speakers from other areas in Japan. Fortunately, I have a little experience bluffing my way through conversations, so I got out of the conversation looking like I knew what she was talking about. I hope.

pilgrimage to shingo

I'm not really a religious person, but when people ask me what I want to see before I leave Japan, I always answer with the same thing: Jesus. Not in the metaphorical sense, or in the spiritual sense of finding Jesus inside of myself or anything. I'm talking about Jesus' final resting place, which as everyone knows, is here in Japan.

Yes, Jesus' final resting place is in Shingo Village, in Japan, far away from major tourist places, meaning if you are going to go by public transport, it involves catching a bus from the "nearest" train station, and changing buses a couple times before you get there. The buses don't run frequently either, so if you don't time it right either, you're kinda screwed, like my case. I ended up giving up on the public transport option and just renting a car for a few hours, which did turn out to be more expensive than I thought. Then again, no one said this pilgrimage to Jesus' grave would be easy.

What's that you say? He was crucified? Oh no, I'm sure you're just confused. Jesus wasn't crucified- his brother was. You know, Isukiri. Isukiri, Jesus' oft-neglected brother, altruistically sacrificed himself in place of Jesus while Jesus fled to Japan. After which, Jesus married a Japanese woman and became a garlic farmer (And awesome one at that apparently, but I'm sure that was a given he was the Son of God), where he lived until the ripe old age of 106.


While there though, I also found this: Garlic flavoured ice cream. Probably in part to Jesus' mad garlic farming skillz, Aomori prefecture is now famous for its garlic. I kinda had to try it for the same reasons I went to the obscure village in the first place; such a weird combination of two different things, I had to try it just to see what it was like.

don't look at me!

I really wondered what it looked like to all the people that drove or cycled past my apartment the morning I left. I was sitting on the couch in a completely bare, dark apartment, staring out the window. Or, staring out where all the windows would be. All the windows and curtains were removed so the landlord could clean them and prepare for the next tenant moving into my apartment in the next couple of days. All my belongings were packed up in bags in preparation for starting my travels around Japan. I couldn't really go anywhere either, since I was waiting for my former English teacher to come pick me up and take me to the station. My electricity and gas had been switched off that morning, so I couldn't watch TV or even turn on the lights. Going to the bathroom involved a dilemma; close the door and use the toilet in complete darkness, or open the door and let passers by see what you're doing?

I was glad when an hour passed and my teacher finally came. She did question what I was doing in a windowless apartment, but I did explain the whole situation. If only I could've done the same thing to the three cyclists and two drivers as well.

sightseeing: j-style

Yep, I'm officially a Japanese tourist. I wonder if it bodes well that my very first day sightseeing during my final tour of Japan has shown that I've fully assimilated into the life of a J-tourist.

Evidence 1: My shiny new DSLR camera with neck strap, ready to snap pictures of anything picturesque without a single moment of hesitation.

Evidence 2: My Japanese tour guide; glove-clad, and microphone in hand to tell us all facts about everything and anything on our tour.

Evidence 3: My Japanese tour group. The only thing missing from this tour group however, was the flag the Japanese tour guide was to wave for stragglers and the vertically-challenged to see where the tour group was going. However, I guess that was remedied by:

Evidence 4: My J-tour badge. For any situations I become separated from the pack.

Being a Japanese tour, it involved a tight schedule and limited time for self exploration at the places we stopped off at. I shouldn't complain though, since I was only in Kagoshima for one morning, and figured it was the best way to see the main sights before leaving around lunchtime anyway.

It also helps seeing I didn't even know what there was to see in Kagoshima anyway. Essentially, I was just going there because it was the southernmost part of the main islands of Japan, and I was wanting to head to Aomori, which is in the northernmost part of the main island. I had 11 days to use my 14-day JR pass, so figured i might as well make the most of it. Just like how I kind skip meals before going a buffet to gorge myself, I figured if I was going to get an all-you-can-use ticket for Japan, I'm going to make the most of it.

So what is there to see? Well, I've yet to see that too. Kagoshima does have Sakurajima, an island that houses an active volcano that still spews dust and smoke every now and then. unfortunately, the day I was there, the weather wasn't the best. So while some people saw this,

I saw this.

Oh well, can't complain. At least i have photo evidence (and marimokkori) to show I've been there!