If Only Somebody Had Told Me…

Cascadian Abroad

Most of the posts on Cascadian Abroad are very positive and reflect our experiences honestly and accurately. Some of the more difficult experiences (that, again honestly, make up only a small part of our time here) are usually couched with humor and sarcasm. But it hasn’t all been easy.

A few weeks ago we had an e-mail dialog with a woman back in the U.S. who was deciding whether or not to come to Japan to teach next spring. It was an interesting thread as it really made us think about the experience so far and what we wish we would have known before we made the decision to come to Japan. Her and her fiancé are in a similar position as we were back in our decision-making process, so we were happy to provide some information. 

Had we known these things in advance, it wouldn’t have changed our decision to come and actually might have expedited our decision while helping us better prepare for the move. I’d like to share some of those things today. 

Finding a job in Japan will be difficult

Since her spouse was also leaving a career in the U.S., they had questions about finding work. My visa allows me to work up to 28 hours per week, but finding a part-time job isn’t an easy task. Most English-speaking jobs in our area still require at least business-level knowledge of Japanese. I’m still working up to toddler-level Japanese, so most of those opportunities are off the table. The couple of contacts I’ve made have projects that are “in the works,” but they are moving on Japan Time, which is akin to Island Time.

Not very many people speak English

Americans are pretty ethnocentric (although I think it’s not just Americans), so prior to coming to Japan, we got a lot of “Don’t worry, they’ll probably speak English.” That may be true in parts of Tokyo or other large cities, but where we live, it’s just not the case. Some people learned a little bit in school, much like we speak a little bit of Spanish or French or whatever language class we took for two years in high school. Those who know a little are more than happy to try and communicate with you, but (no duh!) I’ve found that I need to learn Japanese to communicate in Japan.

Our adventure started in a whirlwind fashion, but I think if we had more time it would have been helpful to take Japanese classes in the U.S. with English-speaking teachers. When you’re starting from scratch, or rebooting nearly 20 years removed from high school Japanese, learning in-context is tough, especially with a language not based in a Latin/Roman script.

People will stare at you

One thing that alternately annoys me and fascinates me is that we stick out like a sore thumb in our neighborhood. Some people are interested, some stare with suspicion, some children cry and scramble into their parents’ arms (all true stories). The suspicious stares are a little hurtful as is the feeling when a mother hastily grabs up her child when you walk by, purely because of the color of your skin (and, yes, it feels odd to write that as a Caucasian person). 

Mostly though, people are really kind to us. We were coming home from a walk today when a man came up to us and, in his best English, invited us to “this town’s festival.” Our neighborhood had a little carnival in the park. A few people smiled wide at us and greeted us. A man gave us a ticket for a kakigōri (Japanese shaved ice). A couple days ago, the druggist who helped me find cough medicine last week remembered me on our next visit and asked if the medicine helped. Many people are interested in where we’re from and I wish that I knew more Japanese to be able to answer all of their questions.

Ship a BUNCH of your favorite things

We had the opportunity to ship two large boxes about six weeks before we left the U.S. Add in a couple checked bags and our carry-ons, that’s all we would be bringing on our adventure. Trying to figure out what you’d want or need in a place you’ve never been is tough. I have way too many pairs of socks and nice pants and we’re all out of Kirkland Signature Natural Creamy Peanut Butter already. Japan’s customs restrictions mean we can’t ship a lot of our favorites products from the States, which isn’t that big a deal because it’s pretty spendy to do so anyway. But, being forced to adapt, I’ve perfected a shiitake mushroom “beef” jerky and veggie bratwurst! 

Let go and enjoy the adventure!

I’ll admit, I was way too uptight about some of the little things. Leaving behind everything you know isn’t easy, but the things we’ve seen over the last five months have made it all worthwhile. I know my poor wife gets a lot of “How’s Robert doing?” questions, expecting to find me huddled in a corner crying. My answer? I snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef two weeks ago, saw the Sydney Opera House last week and climbed to the summit of Mount Fuji four days ago. 

I’m fine, thanks. 

On Top of the World

Room With a View

It’s been around 90 degrees for about a month now. The humidity sits on you like a wet rag. Finding ways to beat the heat can be tough. Going up seems to be the best remedy so far.

A few weeks ago, we went on our first hiking trip since arriving in Japan and were itching to get out again. This time, we ventured deeper into the Okuchichibu Mountains for Mitsumineyama. Wikitravel called it a “fairly tame” hike to the peak. In hindsight, “fairly tame” may be in the eye of the beholder.

From Kawagoe, it was about a 90 minute train ride to Seibuchichibu Station in Chichibu. Upon arriving, we boarded a local bus that would take us to the Mitsumineyama trailhead. The bus was an adventure in its own right. Billing itself as the “Express” bus to Mitsumine Shrine, it only had a few stops. However, the first stop was 20 minutes away and the second stop, the trailhead at Oowa, was about 45 minutes.

Bus to Oowa
The bus to Oowa drops you right at the torii for Mitsumine Shrine at the base of the mountain

The owner of a small restaurant stopped us on our way to the trail. With a lot of Japanese and many useful hand gestures, she explained that a footbridge had collapsed due to heavy snow and there were ropes blocking the path, but that we could climb through the ropes and hike the mountain. Our adventure has begun!

Hilly Path
The first part of the trail was paved in stones and lined with stone tablets and wolf statues… and it was the first hill of the day, but far from the last

The ropes and accompanying signage was just a short walk up a steep stone path. A handy picture showed the collapsed bridge and the treacherous conditions that lay ahead. Shortly past this sign was another, this one warning of bears. Fortunately, I learned from nature shows that bears like peanut butter and our pic-a-nic basket had an ample supply. The Yogi Bear Show counts as a nature show, right?

Bridge Sign
Yup, that bridge looks to be in bad shape… but what’s the yellow sign?

We shimmied under the ropes and headed up the hill. The trail was buried deep in the trees, providing shade and taming the hot summer sun. It was almost pleasant. About a klick up the path, we came to the troubled bridge.

Collapsed Bridge
It was even worse in person

It was fairly easily navigated around, stepping over the small stream that ran beneath it. It looked like Mitsumineyama had seen a hard winter as many of the path guide ropes had slid down the hill in addition to the crushing snow that bested the bridge. Onward and upward!

Waterfall
Several small torii and hokora (miniature shrines) sat in an opening near this small waterfall

It was obvious why the mountain would be considered a spiritual place. Before long, we came into an opening with a small waterfall, maybe 15-20 feet high, surrounded by several torii and hokora (miniature shrines). Many stone tablets lined the path near the waterfall. It was clear this was a special place. We rested for a few minutes and took it in before continuing our climb, taking in the natural beauty of the area as well as the manmade additions.

Statue with knitted cap
The knitted caps are a common offering to the statues in shrines, protecting them from the cold and rain

The path never leveled out as it climbed to the top. We finally reached the summit at 1,102 meters (about 3,615 feet) above sea level. We covered about 3.2 km (about 2 miles) in just under two hours. So much for “fairly tame.” But the experience at the top was well worth it. While the bus also goes directly to the front gate, the reward at the top of the mountain made us pity those who took the easy way up. A worship area overlooked the mountainous range and the valley below. After a short rest, we headed down the stone lantern-lined path toward Yōhaiden, the shrine’s worship hall.

Yōhaiden worship hall
The first structure in Mitsumine Shrine is Yōhaiden worship hall

As with most Shinto shrines, Mitsumine is made up of several shrines. The 2,000 year old buildings were renovated around 2003 and were in immaculate condition. The detail of the wood carving was amazing and popped with the refreshed colors.

Main Hall
Mitsumine Shrine’s main hall
Detail on the Main Hall
Detail on the carvings adorning the main hall

In the center of the shrine is Mitsuminejinja Kounkaku (興雲閣). A cafeteria reminiscent of a senior living dining hall served up hot soba with tempura gobou and all-you-can-drink tea. We fueled up and then paid the low price of 600 yen (plus 200 yen for towel rental) and took advantage of the sentō.

Slippers
You have your inside slippers and your potty slippers

This was our first sentō experience. The “observe and imitate” approach required a little more stealthiness than usual since we’re talking about public baths that don’t allow swimsuits, if you catch my drift. Upon entering the building, we deposited our shoes in the cubby by the door and slipped on the plastic-y brown slippers provided. If you need to use the restroom, you trade these for plastic-y green slippers that say “Toilet” on them with a picture of, what appears to be, a newlywed couple.

Sorry to disappoint, but there are no photos of the sentō itself (didn’t want to be THAT GUY). It could be best described as the locker room hot tub in the gym, but way better. Upon entering, there’s a large showering facility where you are expected to cleanse before entering the bath. The bath water contains minerals that are believed to have healing properties. After a long, sweaty hike up a mountain, I’d say this is spot on.

Leaving Mitsumine
View of the Okuchichibu Mountains from the front of the shrine

Alas, our time at Mitsumine had to come to an end. We’d originally planned to hike to the peak of Mitakeyama, but the “fairly tame” hike up Mitsumineyama was enough, so we took the bus back to the station. 70 minutes later, we were back on the train for a 90 minute trip home. It was a long day, but a rewarding day.

Farmers Markets

Taiyou no Marche

One of my favorite weekend activities back home was walking around weekend markets. There was no shortage of options in our neck of the woods and we frequented several. It’s fun to snack on unique homemade treats and see local craftspeople selling their goods. Music is everywhere, from full bands to middle school violinists. It’s a great way to spend a Saturday.

With all the gardens in our new neighborhood, the lack of farmers markets strikes me as odd. I’m guessing most of the gardeners must sell their veggies to local restaurants and stores. Some have unmanned stands set up. But no farmers markets.

Leave it to the world’s largest city to save the day. Every weekend, farmers markets spring up throughout Tokyo. A couple weeks ago, we hit a pair of them: Taiyou no Marche (Market of the Sun) in the Chūō ward and the United Nations University farmers market in the Omotesando district.

Tofu Tofu Food Truck
The Tofu Tofu food truck offered three varieties of tofu burgers

Taiyou no Marche was the larger market of the two and we stepped off the train around lunchtime. Food trucks lined the path from the train station offering a variety of good eats. We checked out all of our options, but decided on Tofu Burgers from the TofuTofu truck—or more accurately, Volkswagen Bus. The lady taking orders gave me a half-hug when we approached. Food made with love… literally. No joke… layered in salsa and cheddar with an awesome fresh bun, I could have eaten this thing all day long.

Tofu Burger
The Addictive Masterpiece Tofu Burger (絶品 やみつきとうふ バーガー)

Fueled up, we wandered up and down the aisles of the market. Fresh veggies and Japanese wine (with copious samples) around every corner. One booth was milling freshly-roasted sesame seeds into oil right at the market.

Beets
These beets went into an awesome borsch a couple days later

The find of the market, however, was beets! I know, right? Beets! Maybe they’ll show up in the stores later in the year, but this was the first beet sighting in Japan so far. The man at the booth spoke decent English and asked how we prepare them. My amazing wife turned into Bubba from Forrest Gump, listing multiple ways to prepare them. The man said his favorite method was to grill them, but we put them into an awesome borsch.

Most of the booths offered samples, but one was more memorable than others. The Natural Meal Lab had samples of their granola. As we were tasting, a Japanese TV crew walked up. I think I’d dropped an oishī (delicious) to compliment the granola lady and the TV guys seemed to like that. It took three takes to get a shot of them panning from the granola display to me tasting it and saying “Mmmm…. oishī!”

TV Tokyo Bit
Me being filmed by Japanese TV. Can’t wait to see the treatment if they actually air it because Japanese TV is hilarious!

After ensuring our fame on Japanese television, we hopped back on the train and headed for Omotesando. The United Nations University hosts a farmers market every weekend. It was a little smaller than Taiyou no Marche, but had some great food options.

Anadomikan
Anadomikan are Japanese oranges and taste like a cross between an orange and a grapefruit

One booth sold anadomikan, Japanese oranges that are big like a grapefruit and have a slightly more bitter flavor than a regular orange, but pack the awesomeness of both fruits. The lady kindly explained this as she doled out samples.

Snacks
Falafel and deep-fried soy nuggets… my, oh, my!

Like the last market, several food trucks circled the booths. We had a couple snacks, including deep-fried soy nuggets (holy smokes, these were naughty!) and a falafel sandwich with chili sauce.

Almond kid
This kid was taking advantage of the free samples

Japan is well-known for its kawaii culture, but there was actual cuteness all over this market. Little kids took part in the free samples and the dog-friendly market made it feel like a day in Portland. What appeared to be a dog adoption clinic was being held in the back of the market, which was a nice contrast to the puppies for sale (at $5,000 USD each) in the pet store next to the market.

Puppies
Puppies everywhere!

On any given weekend, there’s at least a dozen farmers markets around Tokyo. The access to farm-fresh vegetables filled another gap in our Japan life and I’m sure these market trips will continue throughout the summer.

Hiking Hiwada

Part of the Mt. Hiwada trail

Before leaving the U.S., we’d started to get into hiking. With the beautiful natural areas in Oregon, it’s not hard to find a hiking trail to fit your mood. Japan offers many hiking opportunities, but our area is so citified that greenspace is mostly limited to parks with walking paths.

However, just a short train ride to the west lies the Okuchichibu Mountainous Region (奥秩父山地). The area is full of wooded hiking trails and reminiscent of the Cascade and Coast ranges back home. Hidaka City is the gateway to the Okuchichibu region, with three great peaks and just a 15 minute train ride from our station. We headed for Hidaka, choosing to brave the 90-plus degree temperatures following a few days of Typhoon Neoguri leftovers. Luckily, although just a few miles west, the temperatures were pleasant and a light breeze made for a comfortable day.

Bus Stop Bingo
Playing Bus Stop Bingo, matching the kanji on the display board for the Kinchakuda stop

We’d been to Hidaka recently for lunch, so we knew that we needed to plan slightly better for the bus ride. In reading the few reviews I could find for the hike, I also knew we wouldn’t see much rōmaji, so I carefully wrote out the kanji for each mountain we’d be hiking and the bus stop we’d need. Since the bus only stops when people need to get on or off, we played some Bus Stop Bingo trying to match my scribbles to the reader board on the bus.

Hiwadayama Street Sign
The sign from the road pointing to the Hiwadayama trail head.

After successfully departing the bus at Kinchakuda, we headed up the road to the Mt. Hiwada (日和田山) trail head. The trail had a couple options. You could walk the gentle slope of the switchbacks up to the start of the main trail or follow the makeshift stairs straight up the side of the mountain. We opted for the challenge of the stairs and worked our way up to the trail’s first torii.

Men's Course
Choose your own adventure: Men’s course or women’s course?

At the top of the initial climb, the trail splits into two paths to Hiwada’s summit. The politically-incorrect options: to the left, the “Men’s Course” (男坂経由) and to the right, the “Women’s Course” (女坂経由). In true Cascadian fashion, we opted for the more difficult Men’s Course, a rocky and hilly climb to the peak.

Panorama
Part of the gorgeous panoramic view near the top of Mt. Hiwada

The trees opened up along the way to offer views of Tokyo to the east and the Okuchichibu region to the west. Eventually, the summit comes into view as a large torii frames Kotahira Shrine.

View from Kotahira Shrine
The view from Kotahira Shrine

From the shrine, it’s a short, rocky climb to the peak. From the trail head to the summit, it was about 1,000 ft of elevation gain over a half-mile distance. The straight-up climb plugged our ears, but the benches at the summit offered a chance to adjust to the elevation.

Hiwada summit
This statue marked the summit of Mt. Hiwada

From here, it was about a one-third mile walk to the Mt. Takasasu (高指山) summit. The short path felt like exploring the jungle in Lost. Oddly-placed, dilapidated structures rose from the trees around every corner. The summit itself was marked by a radio tower surrounded by a rusted, broken-down building. We quickly moved on before the Smoke Monster decided to make an appearance.

Takasasu summit
The summit of Mt. Takasasu, otherwise known as Dharma Initiative Station 11, The Tower.

The last peak was Mt. Monomi (物見山). Along the way, a beautiful view emerged with a house perched over a valley with views of nothing but trees and mountains. A small rest house offered respite from the sun as well as vending machines and restrooms. We stopped briefly to refill the water bottle and buy a couple sports drinks before moving on.

Rest House
The rest house leading to the Mt. Monomi trail head

The Monomi trail was some of the day’s more challenging terrain. The recent rain left some muddy spots and steep, rocky trails interrupted the smoother paths up to the summit. At the top, any potential view was blocked by pesky trees, but some comfy benches allowed for another short rest and a snack.

Say Chīzu!
“Say Chīzu!” A hiking group stopped to take a picture at the Mt. Monomi summit.

A large hiking group came in from another trail and stopped to take a picture. In a funny moment of cross-culturalism, the photographer urges the group to “Say Chīzu!” While the shape of the word “cheese” naturally creates a smile, the Japanese equivalent of “chīzu” creates more of a, um, dumb face! After saying “chīzu,” they adjust their mouths into smiles and the photo is snapped.

We briefly followed the group down the hill, but took the first opportunity to pass the slow-moving herd (on the muddiest part of the trail, of course) to head back down Monomi. The path down winds through some interesting terrain. At times, the path is rocky and muddy, while in other places, you find yourself walking through someone’s orange orchard. Eventually you reach a road and follow it down for about a mile where you end up at Musashi Yokote Station (武蔵横手駅).

Summit Markers
The summit markers for Hiwada, Takasasu and Monomi

By the end of the day, we’d hiked roughly five miles and ascended/descended 1,200 feet over three-plus hours. The hike itself was very convenient with well-placed facilities that don’t interrupt the natural experience. The views were unbelievable in places and the trails were challenging, but doable with any level of fitness. I’m sure we’ll venture further into the Okuchichibu region for our next hike, but with the proximity and access of the Hiwada-Takasasu-Monomi trail, we’ll be back here sooner rather than later.

Tongue Tied: Adventures in Japanese

Tongue Tied

I went to the grocery store today. This isn’t unusual. I shop for groceries every couple of days. We eat a lot of veggies and have limited storage.

The script is usually the same. The cashier greets you, asks if you have a store card and rings up the order. There’s a handy bag-tag if you have your own reusable bag, so usually that’s not even part of the conversation.

Bagtag
The beautiful produce section at a local Belc store and the “I don’t need a bag” tag from Inegeya.

Something funny happened today though. I walk up to the register and the clerk, probably in her mid-20s, says the Japanese equivalent of “You don’t have a card.” I laughed out loud… one look at the American and she knew my story. She kept talking to me, which was both great and frustrating.

I’m reaching the point in my Japanese language adventure of understanding in context. I’m pretty good at the grocery stores or restaurants now as long as the speaker doesn’t deviate from the standard spiel too much. But I’m also still a little behind in comprehension and response. That two-second delay is just enough for the speaker to move on or just give up altogether.

I read something recently about learning a language. I’m still in the “translate this to English in my head” phase of learning Japanese. When you actually learn the language, you understand the Japanese itself and are no longer translating to the English equivalent.

Today I understood everything the clerk said, which was exciting. I asked her to leave my rice ball out so I could eat it now and she responded oishii desu ne! or “It’s good, isn’t it?! She asked if it was hot out since I was wearing short sleeves and said it was too cold in the store.

The frustrating part is, in that two second delay, all I can muster is Hai or “Yes.” I know the response is Atsui desu ne! or “It IS hot!” but the words don’t come to mind until the conversation has moved on.

I’ve written before about my frustration in not being able to communicate. But I run across enough people like the clerk that are patient and, frankly, don’t seem to care that I can’t keep up my end of the conversation.

I was riding the train the other day after a four-mile run that ended up at Starbucks, ultimately resulting in a Dark Mocha Chip Frappuccino. The guys across from me on the train were snickering a bit. I heard “Starbucks” at one point and their dodging eyes told me I was probably the butt of a harmless joke, but they seemed nice about it, so I engaged them.

Oishii desu. I said, letting them know this Frappuccino was a tasty, tasty treat. He asked me if I spoke Japanese and I replied with my new standby: Nihongo ga chotto wakarimasu… demo ganbarimasu! or “I only understand a little Japanese, but I try my best.”

For some reason, this is killing people! Both men laughed big, belly laughs. I’ve asked a couple people who actually DO speak the language and they think it’s just a level of appreciation that I’m trying, but I’m seriously considering taking this act on the road!

Language Barrier

One of my earliest childhood memories is of sitting in the kitchen with my mom. I remember asking “Why doesn’t everyone speak English?” It made perfect sense in my little head. Everyone must translate it into English in their brains to understand it, so why don’t they just say it in English to begin with?

I don’t remember the exact answer, but Mom explained how people speak different languages and they might translate our English into their own languages to help them understand. It certainly framed my perspective in life.

A hot button issue in the U.S. immigration debate is whether or not foreigners should have English-language proficiency before they’re able to become permanent residents. Pew Research Center projects that 82% of population growth in the U.S. between 2005 and 2050 will be immigrants and their descendants. I can imagine at some point in the future, the debate will extend to whether all Americans should be bilingual in English and Spanish.

Over the years, I’ve always fell on the side of “live and let live” when it comes to language. But when we made the decision to move to Japan, I knew that I wanted to learn Japanese, much in the way that I suspect most immigrants to the U.S. want to learn English. However, learning a new language isn’t something that just happens. I have two years of high-school Japanese under my belt, which has helped me some, but even that isn’t enough for me to be able to communicate my needs. If Japan had proficiency laws, they wouldn’t let me within a million miles of the shoreline.

I found that we’ve approached learning Japanese in line with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. We started with vocabulary and phrases related to food. I would like… Do you have… Does it have meat or fish… Now that we’re able to sustain ourselves, we’ve been able to start adding some additional words and phrases to enhance our experiences.

The four primary Japanese writing systems
The four primary Japanese writing systems

Reading and writing is critical as well. Navigating the trains and stores require the ability to read. Japanese has four primary methods of writing.

Kanji is adapted from Chinese and each symbol typically represents a word or words. Depending on how they’re combined, they take on different meanings. Elementary school children learn approximately 1,000 kanji and some estimates have the total number of kanji somewhere around 50,000.

Hiragana is used as particles to connect kanji, but also to spell native Japanese words for which no kanji exists. Katakana is used primarily for foreign words. It has mostly the same sounds as hiragana, but is a different character set. Finally, rōmaji is used to help non-Japanese readers navigate the Japanese world. For example, most street names, government documents intended for foreigners and advertisements use rōmaji heavily.

In theory, Japanese should be easier to learn than English. The Japanese language has five vowel sounds and 17 consonant sounds vs. the 20 vowel sounds and 24 consonant sounds in English. For example, in Japanese, the “a” vowel is always an “ah” sound (ka, ga, wa, etc.). But in English, the “a” vowel can be long, as in “ape,” short as in “apple,” an “uh” sound like in “zebra,” an “ah” sound like in “art” or in the case of “orange,” the darn thing just disappears completely.

Learning Japanese hasn’t come without more than its fair share of frustrations. As one of our friends put it the other day, it has a “one step forward, two steps back” feel about it most days. I feel confident at restaurants and grocery stores, but if the neighbor drops by or a salesman comes to the door, it’s like starting from scratch.

The hardest part for me has been the frustration of not being able to communicate. I like to make small talk with the store clerk or people in line. I tried to make a comment about the weather at the grocery store the other day. I was buying a new umbrella and said Ame, desu ne! which was my best shot at It’s really raining, isn’t it? The clerk laughed and replied with a long string of words I didn’t know. Since she laughed, I laughed too, which encouraged her to continue. I faked it as best I could, but I’m sure she sensed the conversation was one-sided from that point forward.

It’s only been three months, so I know I have to cut myself some slack. I’m picking up more and more each day and am starting to figure out some tricks for retaining what I learn. I’ve been making up little songs when I learn something new, which helps the phrase stick. My reading of hiragana and katakana is probably 95 percent, which means I can usually figure out the other 5 percent. I haven’t spent much time with kanji, other than memorizing things like “meat’ (肉) and “fish” (魚), but I’m starting to recognize common ones, like “river” (川), “entrance” (入口), “exit” (出口) and “mountain” (山).

Lately, I’ve been trying to focus on grammar. I figure if I can pick out the pieces of language, that’s when you really start building a toolbox. You can start to construct new ideas and, even if not 100 percent grammatically correct, there is at least some meaning to the listener.

Even in high school, I never really tried to learn a language. My only point of comparison is learning programming languages. With those, there’s always the initial struggle followed by the belief that you’ll never learn it. Then, one day, something clicks and all of a sudden you’re proficient. After awhile, you start to have dreams in code (which can be a great way to solve a problem that you’ve been chewing on all day).

I don’t think I’ll be fluent in two years. Heck, I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to carry on a conversation. But, I think I’m off to a good start and maybe someday I’ll even have a dream in Japanese. I have a real motivation to learn, not just to survive, but to thrive.

Lost in Japan… Again

Garmin Map

When I set out for my runs, I always have the same plan. Go halfway, turn around, go home. I’ve yet to actually do this. I always try to take a different route, and when I reach the halfway point, I see something that looks interesting and check it out. I usually add a mile of walking to my run as a result.

Yesterday, I set out for my run early on a 77 degree morning. I had a general route in mind for a 45 minute (roughly four miles) run. I turned on my Garmin GPS running watch and was on my way. But it happened again…

I did manage to turn around at the halfway point, but as I crossed the street, I discovered the narrow bridge in the road didn’t have a sidewalk. Instead of dodging traffic, I headed down a side street parallel to the bridge. I was looking for the river path, which I found, but it also led me into Kawagoe Park, where I hadn’t been yet.

It’s a fantastic park, complete with a pond and the ever-present swan boat rentals, tennis courts and a great running path with some shade. I followed the path for a bit until I came to the river path which would take me home. Here’s where it all went wrong.

I’ve decided that my navigation issues in Japan are due to the fact that none of the streets are straight. In the U.S., you can typically follow a street, pop up a block and still be running parallel to the previous street. In Japan, streets curve without reason and if your attention wanders for even a second, it’s all over.

As I approached the river path, I saw that the running path ran alongside it under some nice, shady trees. I stayed in the shade and then crossed the road to head for home. Apparently I got turned around, because instead of heading north for home, I was heading south.

Kawagoe’s a decent-sized city, but I saw enough potential landmarks that I thought I was still heading in the right direction. After about five miles though, I hadn’t seen the landmarks I was expecting. I did, however, see a giant battleship, a DeLorean (Back to the Future car!) on a roof and an oversized fiberglass chimpanzee in blue overalls.

I stopped in a 7-11, bought a water with my last 100 yen and asked for directions.

Matoba-eki wa doko desu ka? Where is Matoba Train Station?

The clerk drew me a map on the back of my receipt, indicating the station was just up the road a bit. I headed in that direction, his map perfectly guiding me… to Minamiotsuka Station on the south side of Kawagoe.

One thing I’ve come to learn about the Japanese is that they will give incorrect information before they come off as being unhelpful. The clerk basically gave me directions to the nearest train station, which sent me another mile in the wrong direction.

Things only got worse as I saw a sign for Belc Grocery Store, one of the landmarks I was seeking. I headed toward that, which is sort of like heading toward a Safeway in the states… there’s probably half-a-dozen Belc stores in Kawagoe. Finally, I came across a lady with a small produce stand. Huffing and puffing, I asked again… Matoba-eki wa doko desu ka? 

She gave me a sort of pathetic look and said, what I gathered to be, you’re nowhere near Matoba Station. Totemo tooi desu ka? I asked while pulling distance between my hands in case my Japanese was faulty. She nodded yes with something between pity and empathy.

I usually don’t mind getting lost on my runs. I know I can’t get too far from home on foot and will eventually find my way, but for the first time, I was nervous. I had no clue where I was and knew that every step was likely taking me further from home. We had an appointment in Tokyo later in the day and I needed to be home. Usually I throw 1,000 yen in my pocket, just in case, but I didn’t have any money with me. About seven miles into my run, I alternated sprinting and walking back toward the main street.

That’s when my rescue plan came together. When we first arrived in Kawagoe, we took a taxi to our hotel. The driver lets you in, takes you to your destination, then collects payment. I headed back toward Minamiotsuka Station, where I hoped to find a taxi stand. Sure enough, two taxis had just pulled in and I flagged one of them down.

I gave the driver my address, he wrote it down to verify and we were on our way. I got a chance to try out a new phrase I’d just learned.

Nihongo ga chotto wakarimasu… I paused as I found the next words… demo ganbarimasu! The driver chuckled, my comedic timing translating to Japanese.

I only understand a little Japanese… but I try my best!

I guess the same can be said for my navigation skills. I made it home, safe and sound, and ran upstairs to grab my wallet. I was so far away from home that it cost 1,900 yen (about $19 USD) for the taxi ride. Best 1,900 yen I’ve ever spent.

In all, my 45-minute, four mile run became a one hour and 50 minute, 8.25 mile trek. My favorite part of the Garmin mapping of the run is the end. I’d left the watch on for a minute in the car, so the last split is a two-minute mile as we sped toward home.

Odds and Ends

Squirrels

A few odds and ends from the last week.

Old-timey bicycle sighting

I was running through nearby Wakaba today when a man on an old-timey bicycle rode by. One of those with the big front wheel and the tiny back wheel. Sadly, he was wearing a t-shirt and khaki pants, not sporting a ditto suit and bowler hat.

Rice fields forever

Rice fields
Rice fields flooded as the growing season gets underway.

Paul McCartney could have modified the Beatles’ classic “Strawberry Fields Forever” if he’d been able to play his Tokyo shows last month. The rice fields are fully flooded all over Saitama as the growing season begins. It’s a throwback scene as farmers in straw hats tend to the fields from sun-up to sundown.

Letting nature take its course

Another neat scene on the main drag in our little part of Kawagoe last week. A bird set up its nest full of eggs in the awning over the middle of the sidewalk running in front of the shops. Instead of moving the nest or knocking it down, the shopkeeper taped some newspaper to the sidewalk under the nest to catch the droppings. The mama bird sat perched on the edge of the nest while person after person stopped to see what was up.

Weekend trip to Ōmiya

We popped over to Ōmiya, one of the busiest cities in Saitama Prefecture, over the weekend. The plan was to visit the city’s famous bonsai nurseries and hit up the Keyaki Hiroba Spring Beer Festival.

After a quick train ride, we walked the path to Hakawa Shrine. Statues and banners with squirrels are all over town. We quickly discovered the city’s love affair with the Ōmiya Ardija (Spanish for “squirrel”) soccer team, Ōmiya’s entry into the Japanese Professional Football League.

The shrine was originally established in 473 B.C. It was impressive as usual, but the surrounding grounds were the highlight. A pond is home to dozens of turtles, which swam and sunned alongside the pond, seemingly ignorant to the handful of gawking tourists.

Turtles
Turtles rock!

We had lunch from a stand in adjacent Ōmiya Koen, a large park with a soccer stadium (home to the Ardija), baseball stadium, velodrome and zoo. We ordered some veggie yakisoba and french fries and impressed the vendor enough that she complimented my Japanese! She was clearly lying, but it was a great confidence boost.

We only found one bonsai nursery, which was cool, but fell into one of Japan’s numerous dichotomies. The nursery didn’t allow photographs and charged 200 yen for admission to the main nursery. Now, if I could take photos, I’d pay 200 yen. But, if I can’t get in for photos, I’m fine with glancing at the free stuff.

The trees themselves are amazing. One looked like a 100-year-old maple tree, but only stood about 18 inches tall. The art and care that goes into creating the trees is something else.

Along the way, we stumbled on the Cartoon Art Museum. The small museum featured the cartoon art of Kitazawa Rakuten. Impressive, but with displays only in Japanese, it lent itself to a quick tour.

Coedo Brewery
Coedo Brewery, Kawagoe’s premier craft brewer, set up shop for the weekend at the Keyaki Hiroba Spring Beer Festival in Ōmiya.

Finally, we headed to the Saitama Super Arena for the Keyaki Hiroba Spring Beer Festival. Approximately 60 breweries from all over Japan, and a couple American breweries (including Oregon’s Rogue Ales) tapped their kegs for the weekend festival. It reminded me of the Oregon Brewers Festival on Portland’s waterfront, but in about a tenth of the space and with as many tents and people. Beer enthusiasts lined up shoulder to shoulder to partake in the best of Japan’s burgeoning craft brewing industry.

We tried Hokkaido Brewing’s Melon Wheat and Raspberry White ales as well as Market Brewing’s Mango Orange Ale and Hop Seduction Session IPA. All were great, especially on a day where temperatures entered the 90s for the first time this year.

Most of the breweries get their exposure at these types of festivals or in local supermarkets. The beer aisle at most grocery stores is still dominated by the “Big 3″—Kirin, Asahi and Sapporo. It’s great to see artisan brewing get some well-deserved attention.

Supeingo

Cinco de Mayo Festival

Supeingo is “Spanish” in katakana, which is the set of Japanese characters for foreign words. To my untrained ear, it sounds like “spango.”

As a former Spanish teacher, I’m always on the lookout for Spanish words and phrases. A part of me is still in “I have to tell my students about this” mode. Even in Japan! I have found many examples of a Latin presence in this part of the world. A family registering with city hall. A young woman in Japanese class. Several of my students are Latino. I find these glimpses familiar, more so than overhearing Americans on a crowded street in Tokyo.

Last week, I had the chance to sit in on a beginning Spanish class at the university. I can’t remember whether I was invited, or (probably more likely) I invited myself. Several students mentioned taking Spanish class and I was intrigued at an opportunity to compare it to my own experience teaching.

I arrived with the two students. The seats were assigned, but a seat near them was open. While we waited for the professor, I asked one of the students why he decided to take Spanish, and after crowd sourcing for a bit, he came back with the answer that most of the students thought it was an easy class. Ha. I have heard that before.

The professor walked in to a class of about 30. My students introduced me in Japanese and she conversed with me for a bit in Spanish. That was probably the first time I communicated well with a Japanese person in a foreign language. Maybe some day that language will be Japanese. If she was feeling any emotion at my surprise sit in, she didn’t show it. I admit, I tried contacting her in advance but had no luck. What bad manners! But, here we were.

Spanish class
Going over subject pronouns in supeingo class

A flurry of conversation in Japanese. Understandably so as I taught my own students a foreign language in their native language.

The students were passed out a quiz. I grabbed one. It was on beginning vocabulary—teacher, student, etc.—and how to make nouns plural based on number and gender. Ah, this I knew! I was going to ace this quiz. Except for the Japanese prompts. Afterwards, she called on students to give answers and she wrote them on the board. Students corrected their own quiz.

The professor called on me to answer a question. I told her in Spanish that I couldn’t read Japanese but I thought the answer was x or y. My student leaned over and whispered that she told me I was wrong. She only wanted to hear x as the answer. How mortifying! That was a good lesson for me in how my current Japanese students probably feel. They might know the answer, but they have no idea what I’m asking.

After the quiz, students orally reported their score to the teacher. Again, I quietly asked my student about that. What’s to stop a student from calling out a higher score? He said, “She trusts us and we trust her.” This would never fly in the U.S. Also, again, interesting to me my own students’ reactions when I either ask them to grade a neighboring student’s paper or I just take the paper when the quiz is over. They may be used to grading their own and doing so honestly? What a concept.

More Japanese. A video on Toledo, Spain appeared. I was interested because I spent some time in Toledo in college. I could get the gist of the video because I knew the context. That was basically the theme of the class for me. Even though it was conducted in Japanese, I could understand what she was teaching. It actually helped me learn some Japanese vocabulary. It was a fun, brain teaser. My mind was fried by the end of the two hours.

I thanked the teacher as I left and we had a mini conversation about Toledo. I asked her if she had ever seen it in person and then proceeded to thank her/apologize for my presence.

The next day, we went to a Celebration of the Americas/Cinco de Mayo festival in Tokyo. Again, a lot of cross-lingual communication. I had fun talking to some of the food vendors asking them to describe what they were serving. There was food from Colombia, Peru and Spain. Not the most authentic in the world, but I’ll take what I can get!

At some point, a young Latina translated a Japanese menu into Spanish for me so that was exciting. Yes, exciting! I got a high out of feeling understood and an exchange where both parties communicated with each other!

I look forward to my next encounter with supeingo.

Emphasis on the wrong sylLAble

Robatto

“If you don’t know how to pronounce a word, say it loud! Why compound ignorance with inaudibility?”
– E.B. White, The Elements of Style

Minor pronunciation kerfuffle at the dry cleaners today. The nice old lady at the counter asked for my name. “Robato” I spit out with all the usual confidence of my Japanese conversational transactions. She started laughing as did the other customer. I realized quickly what I’d done…

My name is Robot

Did I mention how kind and patient everyone here is? For the record, it’s “Robaato” with a long A sound.