 The parent wake up call. Light piercing through your closed eyelids in an otherwise dark room.
The sheet-wrapped-around-you-roll out of bed.
The groggy bowl of cereal.
Stumbling to the car with arms full of backpacks and coolers that aren’t yours but you know you’ll use later.
Jamming into the backseat of the car and thanking God you’re not driving as you go back to sleep with the pillow you brought.
Yes, I’m sure we can all relate to this type of car trip, the one you actually packed the night before but still freak out before you get on the highway as you hope you didn’t forget something important…like tire chains.
When you’re in the valley and it has been 63 degrees, you kinda forget about things like chains in the back of the car. Let me tell you, if you’re heading to the alps you shouldn’t forget.
That was one of the many phone calls made between the two vehicles we drove into the heart of Switzerland. Not fitting into one car, we borrowed a second car and took some extra passengers to fill ‘er up. Thus, my aunt and uncle each drove the entire 6 hrs round trip and sledding in between. Dave and I brought our licenses just in case our skills were requested in the line of duty.
They weren’t.
And we didn’t need the chains we brought.
Twisting through the jagged mountains we arrived in Bergun, Switzerland around 10am. Jumping in our snow gear we walked into town to rent sleds.
 10am. Jumping in our snow gear we walked into town to rent sleds.
Swiss sleds are very traditionally styled, as you can see. Made mostly of wood, two runners strengthened by a steel sheet along the bottom support the sled. They’re bolted on the back, but only bound by a removable leather strap on the front. This enables the sled to steer according to the weight shifted by the rider.
There are a few ways to steer:
1. Drag your foot on the side you want to go. Effective and simple, but kills your shoes and sends snow flying in the air/in your face/in others’ faces. Also potential to break your leg should you hit a bad patch of snow or ice.
2. Pull on the strap of the side you want to go and lean your weight in the back of the sled on the opposite side. Takes considerable weight shift and practice, and not a very fast or sharp rate of turn.
3. Put your feet on the top of the runners and push in the desired direction while shifting weight in the back on the opposite side. Better rate of turn and safe for your legs, but takes more time to brake.
4. Put hand on the back of sled to move your weight on the opposite side of desired turn. Very fast rate of turn, good for drifting corners, but easy to become unbalanced increasing danger of falling off over bumps.
Dave on the Praeda, method 1. Behind: 3 peeps on a sled! Method 3.
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Method 4, coming off the Dar Lux. This is the only way to ride this run IMO.
|  There were two different runs.
The Praeda is a 7km starting with a leisurely train ride up to the top. This road is never plowed in winter, designated solely for winter sledding tourists. Stepping off the red passenger train, the herd of people make their way past the small restroom hut to the crest where hundreds of sled tracks have pressed down the snow. I got on my sled and pushed off, figuring I’d have to get down sooner or later! Funny, that was the same thing my brother told me as he taught me how to snowboard and bypassed the bunny hill to a 2 mile run…coldest 3 hours of my life.
I digress.
Anyways, the steering came quickly as it was learn or die. More like learn or crash. Dodging adults, kids, and babies my fast little sled carried me swiftly to the bottom of the hill. I only crashed into one person but that was because she was sitting in the middle of a corner like she was Heidi snow princess. (Heidi’s Hollywood village was visible from Bergun).
At the bottom and feeling rather successful about my steering accomplishments, I leveled up with the boys and we went to the hardest sledding run on the mountain: The Dar Lux. From the safety of the ski lift veteran Marshall and I dissected the run weaving between the trees below our feet.
“Oh, there’s part of it.”
“You mean that little deer path?”
“Yeah.”
No more wide roads.
“So…basically it’s a switchback?”
“Yep. See those boards? They’re to prevent you from falling off the mountain if you don’t make the turn.”
Great.
The Dar Lux was everything promised: steep, fast, bumpy, icy, dangerous, narrow, challenging, scary, and fun. The fun part came after I was in the clear at the end of the run, prideful at surviving the gauntlet of obstacles. I only crashed twice, both because of other people in the way. It took a considerable amount of concentration. Sure, there were boards on the corners, but if you moved your weight on a straightaway you could still hurl off the mountainside where there is no guard.
My second run later in the day wasn’t so graceful. I let my guard down a bit and was more careless, trying to pass everyone and making hard cuts on the corners. I wiped out lots of times on that one but it was more exciting.
My second run on the Praeda, having run the Dar Lux, was now like walking through a field of prairie flowers. We played Mario Kart and took on characters Yoshi, Bowser, and Princess Peach, throwing snow and running into each other. We were probably a menace to the other sledders, but then again we were free entertainment.
 At the end of the day I walked through town to admire the architecture and flavor of the area. I love the public fountains in European cities.
Regrouping at the hotel lobby we dried off and packed up the cars for the long ride home. Did you know a hamburger in Switzerland costs 17 bucks at McDonalds?! Not that I would eat it normally, but this is insane.
 After that long car ride we cleaned up our gear and coolers of brownie crumbs. Time for New Years!
The Blumenplatz or town center was filled with people of all ages setting off rockets. Some small crackers and fountains were occasionally interrupted by a booming m-80, but overall it was an atmosphere of loud fireworks and sulfur.
Cigarettes.
Champagne.
Friends.
Smoke.
Bottle rocket sticks hitting cars.
Christmas lights.
Warm coats.
Toasts.
Kissing.
Roman candles.
Church bells.
These are the elements of New Years.
Friends from church had an open house so we walked in from the streets in overcoats and comfy pajamas. (We’d spent the entire day in the car and alps).
The chic house was gently arranged for company and seasonal smells wafted from the kitchen. That’s where the sharply dressed houseguests were congregated, sipping their glasses of spirits and chatting in distinguished, lively voices. Our ragamuffin cousin clan inched along the cabinets towards the group, imagining rather than believing our smoke-infused garments would not offend the hosts. They graciously offered us a toast and we stayed for a little bit until the children went to bed. We excused ourselves accordingly and sheepishly donned our mismatched mufflers after handing back the empty goblets. I felt like a bum, coming in off the street just to get warm and have a drink…but that’s kinda what we did.
That’s it then. The New Year is here. I don’t have a resolution but returning to America all of a sudden became a lot closer.
Going to America.
AKA: military base.
My cousin Marshall had a basketball tournament so we trekked up there for a day to support the team. I was already used to seeing white faces around me for the past few days, but now they were all speaking English! Many Europeans study English as a second or third language, but now surrounded by my homies I had to really be careful who and what I was talking about at any given moment. I’m so used to just blurting out anything in Japan because no one knows what I’m saying…or if they do, they won’t respond.
We had a grand time, yelling at the game though! A bus transported us to a nearby base and we picked apart the exchange and commissary. I bought some necessities to use in Japan. I was completely at home in the grocery store. Knowing what everything says, and how to use it/make it is such a wonderful thing! If you don’t appreciate living in your own country yet then you need to get out and try living somewhere foreign for a while. I guarantee you’ll return with a new outlook on life. If nothing else you’ll have more patience for yourself and others.
Basically the day was watching basketball, walking around the grocery store, and driving….lots of driving. It took 3 hours each way. I sat between my bro and Tim in the car, so Tim and I shared a pillow. It was more like a drool barrier for my part.
What does a girl living in Japan buy in an American grocery store?
Deodorant.
Toothpaste
Toothbrush
Face-wash
Cookie and cake mixes
Yogurt-covered raisins
Banana chips
Not that Japan doesn’t have these things, they just have different versions that I don't like to use.
In the case of deodorant, Japan only makes aerosols that are 100% NOT effective for non-Japanese people.
Japan selling cake mix: 7 dollars a box.
You can see why these items are a high priority to grab on base.
The days between Christmas and New Years are so fuzzy…but there was definitely dishwashing, photo editing, badminton, and Mad Gabbing going on. Probably some naps, too.
Oh! My bro had a birthday! We celebrated by going out to eat at a German restaurant.
Well, first we went to church.
After church we asked a friend to hang around and snap some family photos of us. It didn't go very well as far as things to frame on the mantel...
(click to enlarge)  So we drove up this hill….around a few corners, still up the hill, through the trees, over the river and through the woods.
Out of the woods, onto the ledge.
Hugging the ledge, up to the crest.
Park the car on the ledge, walk into the restaurant/house/village. It’s all those things at once because it probably houses the largest population in a single area within 2 square miles. Cows don’t count.
The restaurant/hotel/house/village sat diners just inside the large picture windows to view the luscious valley and distants snow-capped alps.
For the first time since my arrival, the locals didn’t speak a word of English, nor was it offered in translation on the menu. With no pictures to point at, I picked one that was rendered to me as “authentic.” I got schnitzel with noodles cooked in a Jagger beer sauce. It was a very good but large portion. I sampled everyone else’s food as well to get a more diverse opinion of the local flavors. It reminded me of pot roast.
Schnitzel with noodles. And mushrooms....lots of mushrooms. And lemon with yummy jelly stuff.
 After the birthday bash we drove to the local rustic castle ruins to play around and take pictures.
Evening: packing for Alps adventures!!!
 View of the Rhine just got more interesting... With a free day to kill, the cousins decided to trek into Basel via local bus to film a music video.
I really don't have much more to say than my family is more awesome than me.
And I ate a veggie/feta gyro from a street vendor. So good.
 Family Christmas, sans Tim and I who didn't make the pan. Killer bathrooms in France. Keep reading to learn more.
Christmas!!!
What else can I say: pajamas, presents, food, and games!
My bro got me Mad Gab so we had fun sounding like idiots for awhile.
I forgot to mention that I don’t have any money during this time. I have a wallet full of Japanese yen but no euros for Germany and no Swiss francs for Switzerland. Banks are all closed for the weekend/holidays so I can’t buy anything. That whole time at the Christmas market I just looked around. Sad, but it was also nice knowing I couldn’t buy anything…it let me just browse and take in the local culture.
Another difference that was very apparent as soon as I stepped off of the plane was the brazen PDA with every couple. In Japan I first was surprised at the lack of PDA and wondered how anyone ever got married. Now, after being in the conservative country for 19 months I was appalled at the lack of propriety in these Europeans, making out in front of me every spare second of the day. Cultural differences….how many can I count?!
Yes, Christmas….can’t remember a whole lot of details aside from yummy food and staying in our pajamas for most of it, but I do remember the next day…
 France! The boys took a snow day and headed up to board in the mountains while the ladies took a friend’s car to Colmar, France. What an enchanting town! This was one of a few Christmas markets that remained open after the 25th. We only had about an hour of daylight until the night lights came on in the streets and stalls. This market sold many of the same things as in Switzerland, but everyone spoke French! There seemed to be more stalls sprawled down several streets. It was easy to get turned around. Cheeses, meats, and spirits were frequently sold from local vendors. I sampled a nice rum vanilla liquor and bought a cute bottle of it to take home. Crepes and croissants replaced the brats and beer, though those could still be found in front of the smiling faces of men manning the booths. Smells of street food wafted through the corridors of brightly painted buildings. The moon poked eerily through dark blue clouds, wanting to be a part of the merry light from lampposts.
I took French in the 7th grade for one semester. Don't ask me to say anything except count to ten and say my name. I was pretty much worthless in transactions with the locals, despite my best efforts in smiling and pointing to things. When I lost my leather glove I went around to the stalls I had recently visited, found the owner and showed them my two hands, one gloved and the other naked, and made a sad face.
Eventually one of them pulled out my forgotten glove and we were reunited. Who needs words when you have body language.
At the end of our adventure we went to use the public restrooms. It cost about 50 cents to open the door. Aunt Sue plunked in the coins and went doubles with Hannah. When they came out I grabbed the door before it closed and slipped in. Just about to sit down when the lights went out. Pitch black.
“Hey! It’s dark in here!”
I went for the door.
Behind me the toilet flushed and the seat rose on its own.
“What the???!!!!”
I heard a spraying sound and a machine turned on.
The toilet is alive!!!
Groping in the dark I found the handle and pulled my full weight to open the heavy metal door.
"I almost died!" I exclaimed in a panic to my cousins.
Strange faces stared back at me by the parking lot lamplight. Another family of three looked at me with amused expressions. With the door opened we discussed how to further proceed and avoid paying another 50 cents when the lights came back on and the toilet returned to standard position. I gingerly closed the door again, willing the lights to stay on as I did my business and got out of there as soon as I could.
Though there was another empty bathroom, the other family must have decided it wasn’t worth it after watching me and left.
But hey, we got three people on one coin. American win.
Oh, you want to know another win? Remember how I didn’t have any money? Well, that was because I couldn’t change my yen to Euros…Christmas in Germany is much like America: they take a vacation! Japan doesn't do that….I think I’m used to everyone working all the time.
Anyways, my bank card expired while I’ve been in Japan and since I don’t use it I never had it sent. So, my mom sent it to my brother in Hawaii, who brought it to Germany. Well, it’s been almost 2 years since the last time I punched my pin number into that little dial pad and I forgot it. I tried several possible combinations but none of them were right. I emailed my bank (during the holidays) and tried to get them to email my pin to me but they wanted to mail it to me (yeah right) or have me walk into local branch. I’m in Germany, idiots.
So, imagine my joy and delight when I woke up this morning, literally the second I opened my eyes and my brain said: here’s your pin: ####.
Thanks brain. You’re a little late, but pretty awesome.
 Today is the day: Christmas Eve!!! I’ve already enjoyed so much culture that is reminiscent of my own holiday traditions. Definitely making up for last year; not that it was bad being in Japan, but there’s nothing like a good ‘ole Christmas dinner and opening presents with the fam.
After a week of rain I brought some sunshine to the region and we went for a stroll through the rolling hills of Kandern, Germany. The wide, luscious pasture land for grazing cows was a stark change from the dead brown rice fields of wintery Japan. The warm sun beckoned me to strip down to my tee shirt and I thought of Tamura, expected to drop below zero and snow.
Yes, I’m definitely getting a better deal.
We walked into small villages and past picturesque homes on sprawling acreage. A reindeer, Santa’s second string no doubt, chilled out in the shade by the fence. At another property we socialized with the local llamas, tempting them to the fence with fistfuls of long grass. Uncle Bob found some mistletoe strangling the branches of a tree along the road. Dave jumped on his shoulders and took it down. The rest of the walk was filled with kisses and laughter. The cleansing country air was refreshing especially after choking down the recycled plane/train air for the past 30 hours. Even the occasional waft of manure was a welcome scent! Hey, we don’t have cows in Japan…you get to miss the small and even annoying things in life.
Nestled in the hills
Father-daughter moment under the mistletoe
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A bit of fresh air
|  Chestnuts roasting on an open fire! Returning to the house, Alison, Hannah, Marshall, Aunt Sue, and I huddled around the keyboard and practiced for the evening service. Yes, I hadn’t even been in the country for 10 hours when I was commissioned to play for the Christmas Eve service at their church. Reading over the chords I transposed it a few times on the fly as the ladies discovered their preferred key for vocals. I didn’t know the song so it was a completely clean slate for me to improvise. Aunt Sue strummed the guitar and Marsh played the jimbe to complete this coffee house style serenade.
Entering church I just had one main purpose: don’t cry.
Yesterday we attended the Sunday service and I didn’t make it through the first song before an overwhelming sense of unity and rest washed over me. I haven’t been to church in English since Easter of 2011 so it’s been a long time coming. It was like the last part of me was finally in place. Now I feel like I can go another year before getting worn down again. Good thing I won’t have to wait that long.
After church we came home and enjoyed family time together, eating food and sharing stories. Uncle Bob started a fire in the raised pit on the patio. We eventually made our way out there in blankets and slippers to enjoy a little outside air. Then the whole family was there. Then another family came to join us and there were carols in the air. More wood stoked the fire. A large pot of chestnuts roasted on the grate over the flames. Cheese and crackers and Christmas cookies appeared, disappeared, and replenished. In the courtyard, adjoining apartment tenants came on their balconies to hear our Christmas cheer in the night hours. The German neighbor lady came to the short fence to offer homemade cookies, which we gladly traded for some of our jam-filled ones. She invited us in her living room and we complimented her fir tree adorned with simple ornaments and burning red candles. They barely flickered, flames steadily reaching upward, giving a peaceful stillness to the evening.
Neighbor's Christmas tree
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Breakfast toast
| Alison and I were still messed up on the inside so we were in bed by 10:30. I don’t know how we were awake during the past few days. It was a Christmas miracle.
Christmas dinner!
 Well, no need to go into detail about the first night. It was your basic, jet lag-interrupted sleep. You know the kind where you wake up at 4am to eat breakfast and deep clean the kitchen before anyone else stirs. But I refused to get out of bed until 6:30 when both Alison and I couldn’t take it anymore…we cleaned the kitchen together.
In that respect it was nice to both be struggling with the same things during the break. Our bodies were on the same time zone and we arrived in Germany at the same time so we were equally screwed up. Additionally, we’ve both been living in East Asian countries for a while so the reverse culture shock was frequently a topic of conversation.
While walking through the town, or even going to church, we looked at each other and whispered, “We’re not the biggest people here!” When I say big I mean fat. When she says big she means tall. We blended in with our white skin and brown hair, but both of us were more comfortable interacting with locals in our Asian languages than German or French. I could be seen bowing to people for the next 8 days all over Europe.
On the evening of the 23rd the family trekked to nearby Basel, Switzerland after enjoying a home-baked lasagna, courtesy of the mad Italian cooking skills of Aunt Susan. (Not me.) We walked over the Rhine River and up the cobblestone streets to “The Muenster” church. This was the evening, mind you, so forgive the picture quality. Shout out to my new camera that did awesome once I figured out the optimum settings.
Frolicking around the tall stone walls and steeples we heard a choir singing on the inside. Mass, perhaps? We peeked in and found it packed with people enjoying a concert by Mendelssohn! We sat by pillars supporting the high vaulted ceiling and listened reverently to the last 15 minutes, the chilling acoustics filling the air with warm Christmas Spirit.
I love Europe.
 View of the Rhine and part of Basel from the Munster.  At the conclusion we hit the streets and wound down the hill to the vendors selling brats and beer. We bought a huge skewer of roasted delicious meat, a 2 ft. long bratwurst, and glühwein (“glue-vine”), a hot spiced red wine in a commemorative Basel mug. I love Europe.
 The Christmas Market was just what you would expect: markets of Christmas items spanning homemade jellies, cookies, glass and wooden ornaments, nativity scenes carved from trees, fur gloves and hats, woolen scarves, toys, food, wine and spirits, and a hundred other things. Each wooden stall was painted or decorated with fresh evergreen or cedar boughs, rich red bows, and expressions of Merry Christmas in different languages. The atmosphere was enchanting as couples and families strolled up and down the winding streets sipping their spiced wine and smiling with joy in the company of loved ones. I was one of them.
Click on the pics below to view larger images.
In a haze that only international travel can induce, I followed the herd through the Zurich airport trams and crowds and customs to the baggage claim. While standing at the carousel waiting for my bright red bag to round the corner, a choke hold from behind dropped me to my knees and I fought for a grip on the icy hands. I couldn’t breathe. Air! I need air! Like a dream my mouth was frozen shut preventing my desperate cries. My eyes searched around madly for someone to rescue me but they ignored me, focused on finding their own lost luggage in the late night melee. A tragic, lonely death closes in on me… Oh wait. It’s just Alison. My cousin flying in from Korea was waiting for her luggage on the next carousel. We claimed our bags and went to find our 11pm welcome party. You know those guys in suits (presumably limo drivers) who stand at the entrance with people’s last names printed on a stark white piece of paper. Don’t you ever wish you were cool enough to walk up to one of those dudes, nod your head and say, “It’s me, Charlie. Take me to the Ritz.” Me too. What I got was much more entertaining than that cookie cutter posh. Scanning the faces in the crowd, we found a handwritten sign with black sharpie spelling, “patients: Alison + Susan” The man holding the sign was dressed in scrubs, rubber gloves, and a mask. Next to him was an ill-dressed kid with a crooked hat, huge stuffed teddy bear peeking out of his backpack, and a crumpled paper ripped out of a notebook that read: “eyem w/ teh dokter.” Our brothers had come to pick us up. This was the start of a memorable Christmas indeed… If you have fb maybe you'll see this clip of the arrival: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151284696100675
 My travels, according to interactions I would have with my parents.
Dear Dad,
I caught all of my connections just fine, though not without some running through the train terminal. I’m glad I only brought my small bag so it was easy to store on the train. The Narita airport was easy enough to navigate but I ran into a little glitch at customs. Even though I called in advance to ask about the visa policies, they said I didn’t have the right paperwork to re-enter the country. They ended up giving me a special re-entry permit so it’s fine. I boarded the 777 and sat in the exit aisle! You know, the one with no seats in front and right by the galley? At first I though I got ripped off because there was no personal TV or table tray, but I soon found them tucked away in my chair. It was really interesting to watch the galley workers and the huge elevator thing that comes out of the ceiling. We flew at 10 thousand meters the whole time, from Japan across Russian and then down through Eastern Europe to Istanbul. There was only a little bit of turbulence during “dinner” but nothing shocking. I loved watching the screen of progress as the little plane icon slowly made it’s way across the continent. The coolest part was when it showed where the sun was on the earth. We were basically chasing the sunset the entire way so I took a few pictures of the blazing sun underneath the wing of the plane. Upon landing in Istanbul we quickly emptied the plane and spilled into the airport. My new German friend and I looked for our connecting terminal together and parted ways. There were many interesting things in the mall area, including many upscale stores selling jewelry, watches, and clothes. One cigarette store had some interesting signage, check it out:
I boarded a smaller jet for my 3 hr. flight to Zurich. I quickly bedded down into the empty seat next to me and took a little nap. Upon landing I met up with Alison and we grabbed our baggage before meeting the family. David and Marshall were dressed up to meet us! Marshall was a doctor with a clipboard that read: Patients: Alison and Susan. David was some special needs kid with a crooked ball cap and clothes all disheveled, a backpack with a huge teddy bear poking out of the zipper, and a page ripped out of a notebook that read: eyem w/ teh dokter. We headed home in the torrential rain and went straight to bed.
Dear Mom,
The trip to visit the Kummer family was not without it’s fun moments. I packed with the intention of using my red suitcase as a carry on so it was not very full and pretty light. Rachel and I made our way out of Funehiki to change trains in Koriyama. I thought we had 3 minutes to connect, but we only had 2! So we missed the first shinkansen and waited 20 minutes for the next one. I was a little worried because our connection in Ueno to the Skyliner was a new route for me and I heard it was tricky, knowing we had to exit the train station and walk to the Keisei line. Instead of an hour to make that connection, we arrived in Ueno with 22 minutes. We walked fast! Rachel forgot to take her ticket out of the turnstile after coming off the train, thinking the ticket was finished. Turns out she needed it to exit the station too, so she had to run back to the stile while I watched her bag. It must happen to a lot of people because there was a designated box where forgotten tickets fall into automatically. The worker manning the turnstile opened the box and dug through it until he found the one from Funehiki. She ran back to me and we exited the station. We followed the signs until the signs ran out…then I remembered watching a video on YouTube of “how to get to Keisei station” and followed my memory of the storefronts. We went down into a tunnel that connected the two stations and eventually made it out alright at the Skyliner. We quickly bought tickets and had 4 minutes to spare before the train departed! Of course we sat in some guy’s seat on accident because we couldn’t read our seat assignments printed on the ticket. Stopping only once at Nippori the train became full to capacity all the way to the airport. We went in together but soon split because we flew out of two separate wings of the terminal. That departures counter area is so crazy!
I found Turkish and went to get my boarding passes. No sooner had I entered the 5-person line (which took 20 minutes to get to the counter) than 50 people stacked up behind me. Nice timing.
I asked the lady for a window seat. (This is all in Japanese, mind you.) She said there were none. Seriously, I bought my ticket in August and you’re telling me I can’t have a window seat? Rude. So I asked for one closest to the front. She said I had a choice of an aisle or middle. I took the aisle.
The lady said my bag was too big and had to be checked. I guess I could have brought my contact lens solution and my tweezers after all. Quickly writing out a nametag, I sent the bag on the conveyor and went to find my gate.
After going through security I headed to customs. Remember when I renewed my passport and they didn’t put my visa in my new one? Well, I called the American embassy and they said to go to Japanese Immigration to have it transferred. Kawaai sensei called J-Immigration and they said the laws changed and I only have to show my alien registration card. So I walk up to immigration and the lady is like, “Are you coming back into the country?” “Yes.” “Fill out this form.” I get out of line, walk across a gigantic empty room to a tiny counter to fill it out.
I get back in line to a different lady.
“Where is your visa?”
“I have a registration card.”
“It says here on the computer you were issued a visa with unlimited re-entries up to 2014.”
“Yes.”
“Where is your visa? This is a new passport, I see.”
My, my, aren’t you observant. For all this information you possess, why don’t you let me go?!
“My visa is in my expired passport.”
“You need your visa to get back into Japan.”
“Well, I called J-Immigration and they said I only need this card.”
“You need your re-entry permit. Did you bring your old passport?”
“Why would I do that? It’s CANCELLED. It has a million holes in it. It’s invalid.”
“Well….where is your old passport?”
“It’s at my house in my sock drawer. Does it really matter where it is? I’m not getting it.”
“I’m going to have to issue you a special one-time re-entry permit. Only ONE time. Do you understand?”
“That’s all I need.”
“Go.”
So I found my gate and walked around until I absolutely had to board the plane. We left on time, but taxied around the airport for a full 20 minutes for no apparent reason. This made us a little late in takeoff but we got there on time.
I ended up being row 40, the exit row by the galley and sat next to this nice German girl. Endless foot room before us, I could get up when I pleased for a little stretch or look out the window. The tray table was a multi-folded number, a little weak for putting my computer on so I didn’t use it the whole flight. Turns out I like being by the galley…the trash, bathroom, and snacks were available the entire flight! I only napped for about an hour. I don’t sleep well on planes. The meals of chicken and vegetables were not too bad. We had “real” silverware. I ate all my veggies and chicken the first meal but was more picky with the meat the second. I ate the rest of my subway sandwich instead and took a rice ball from the snack bar. They gave us a nice amenity package consisting of standard blanket and pillow, slippers, zippered case containing an eye mask, earplugs, toothbrush and toothpaste, and lip balm.
We came into Istanbul at night and I was suddenly again in a world of white people. I kind of forgot that none of the people spoke Japanese so I could be found bowing and saying, “excuse me” in a language no one understood. I looked in some swanky shops and tourist-item stalls, admiring the mosaic patterns and colored glasswork. People there were very pushy and disorderly compared to Japan. There was no line to get onto the plane, and this grandma kept pushing me up the stairway even though there were others stopped in front of me.
I finally got my window seat and an empty one next door so I tried to sleep the whole way, ignoring the inflight meal. I met up with Alison at the baggage claim as we were right next to each other and we quickly found our brothers who had come dressed up to greet us. Time to jet lag!
I know most of you have also been victims of endless Facebook or twitter rants about gun control laws and safety of our schools. Perhaps you instigated them or snuck in a comment yourself. There are a few personality profiles I’ve typecast; humor me by placing yourself into the most fitting category: First Responder: is the first one to witness/hear about a horrific event. You think it’s your duty to alert everyone even when you don’t know all the details yet, so the post is usually something vague.
“omg, I can’t believe ~ happened.” You wait to form an opinion until others post within the next 4 minutes. Second Responder: You see that the First Responder has posted something, check it out and post like you were the one who saw it first. Post is still vague, but slightly different from the original.
“wtf, I can’t believe ~ just happened.”
Mass Communicator: After seeing the vague posts from the responders, you check it out and repost, but are sure to include the link where you read/saw the information so people know to trust you. An empathetic opinion is usually rendered in this post.
“I just found out about this ~. It’s so awful. Check out the link.”
Charged Argument: You’re the one who just KNEW this was going to happen, and now you’re ready to post about how you feel about it using some kind of sarcastic remark. Usually no reference to the actual incident, but more universal concepts or political issues that have already circulated.
“This is exactly why ~ should be legal/outlawed in America. If ~ didn’t exist, (insert wonderful thing that happens or how everyone would benefit).
Love Healer: offer no real solution or effort to discuss the issues or the event, but try to stay objective by making some sweet comment about the victims or someone else you knew who was in a similar situation. You just want to give everyone a hug and cry as you watch emotional slideshows.
“My heart goes out to ~. I’m remembering ~. We need more love in the world.”
Prayer Warrior: you have a scriptural reference handy, and probably already prayed for every single person/group involved.
“I’m praying for the people involved in ~. (Insert scripture here. Watch for contextomy).”
Sword of Sarcasm: Hey, a picture is worth a thousand words and you know exactly how you feel about this...and exactly who you’d love to Facebook Pokethroughtheeye. Instead of an argument-turned-hate mail, you find a witty, sarcastic cartoon or meme to post on your wall. You never comment again.
“(insert sarcastic meme)”
Peace-faker: You stay silent and just mumble to yourself how stupid everyone is. Keep a low profile online, but you talk to people at work as you all discuss how annoying it is to watch things heat up on Facebook. Secretly you each wonder who will post about the conversation in 6 minutes…
There are as many different internet personalities as there are people in the world, but these are just some generalizations I made. I know exactly which one I am…
In light of the recent mass shootings, I would like to use the most recent one in a Connecticut elementary school as a base for this discussion. As I make conclusions, keep in mind that I am gleaning from all horrific acts against mankind, not one isolated event. I am also not relating these things to times of war or acts of self-defense. Those are topics for another day.
Event: perpetrator takes guns from mom’s house, kills her, goes to school, breaks through security door, shoots adults, shoots children, shoots and kills himself.
So basically you have a guy. He decided to kill people. He decided to kill himself.
Does it matter what he used? Slingshot, cross bow, a neck break, a metal chair, kidney punch, knife stab, strangling, drowning, electrocution, bombing, collapsing a building, driving a car through a window….
Does it matter who he killed? Children, adults, girlfriend, ex-wife, sports player…
Does it matter how many victims there were? 2, 11, 28, 33?
It seems to me that people who have the desire to kill will do it. They’ll find a victim. They’ll find a weapon. How can they be stopped? By stricter laws? We’ve all heard the argument that lawful people without guns will be shot by the law-breakers possessing them. And what about people who want to kill but don’t have a gun? Murder has been happening for thousands of years. This is not a new concept birthed out of the 21st century.
So the solution is a gun in the hands of every law-abiding citizen? Well, then the rules of “self-defense” will start to get blurry very quickly. “He lunged at me officer. I had no choice.” Besides, most perpetrators were law-abiding citizens at one point in their lives. How can we predetermine who will fall out?
Gun control, by either reducing or increasing firearms, can be summed in a word: escalation.
Even if escalation didn’t happen, you’re still dealing with the original problem: the hate inside of a human being.
I submit that the motives behind these murderous crimes are hate and fear. Coincidentally, they’re the same motives behind rape, kidnapping, armed robbery, shoplifting, looting, stealing, lying, embezzling, and taking the nerd’s lunch money.
Hate is an active response that would motivate an ill-intentioned act towards another human being. The interesting thing is that the perpetrator doesn’t even have to hate a specific person! Apparently he (or she) can have a general hate and feel justified in the act. I think it’s worth a closer look.
Quiz time:
Fill in the blank.
Hating is the opposite of _________.
Loving. Right? Can you love and hate the same thing at the same time? You’re all ready with an arsenal of arguments, I’m sure.
You love that spicy food, but hate how it burns your mouth.
You love your dog, but hate cleaning up the mess.
You love the freedoms of living in America, but hate when America makes choices you don’t agree with like politics, international involvement, and domestic concerns.
The problem with these instances of love and hate is that they’re all conditional. It’s about good outweighing the bad. It’s about you getting more positive out of it than negative. Admit it, if your spicy burrito literally set your mouth to flames and caused facial scarring every time you took a bite, you would no longer love it. In fact you’d probably sue the restaurant and make them pay for all your skin graft surgeries. Sounds like hate to me.
If your dog was SO bad that it kept your house in an absolute tornado and was vicious towards all the company you invited, you’d get rid of it. You’d probably hate the dog, or hate the breeder for being irresponsible, or hate the previous owners who taught it bad things or abused it.
If you can achieve a seemingly balanced or “more positives than negatives” mindset, you would be able to love and hate…but still love. But when the bad outweighs the good, it’s hated.
This formula gets trickier with people: do you still love a teenager who uses you and steals from you? Do you love a parent who abused you as a child? Do you love your spouse who cheated on you? Enter in moral issues. It’s easy to make decisions about burritos when you’re the only one being affected. It takes an act of selflessness to truly love those who are harmful to you. It’s not impossible, but difficult. Now widen it to a universal level, outside of your family and friends. Do you love dictators? Do you love terrorists? Do you love your neighbors? Why or why not? Exactly how much love do you think you have, and where does it stop?
Count to ten while you think about that.
Is it safe to assume that perpetrators do not love the people they’re hurting? I think so.
Since the opposite of love is hate, whom do they hate? Their victims? I don’t think randomized shooters took the time to profile and stalk each individual who would be at the crime scene that day. Hence, random. If they can’t hate their victims, who is left?
Family, friends? While there may be some cases where a family feud or dissed friendship fueled a murderous reaction, it doesn’t explain the randomized victims. If you’re mad AT someone, you take it out on them to feel justified. At least that’s if you have even a hint of honoring the sanctity of life and innocent people who are otherwise not involved in your spat. However, the randomization of victims indicates the perpetrator views every one in equal standing---that is, undeserving of life.
I only know of one other being who holds every one in the same equal standing as undeserving of life: God.
That’s right; God knows that we’re all law-breakers, that we all have the potential to turn to the dark side, that we’ve all got a past, that we all stole a cookie when mom was doing laundry in the other room. In fact, plenty of people go out of their way to disrespect Him, ignore Him, disobey Him, and hate Him.
Guess what? People die. And God doesn’t stop it. Of course He could, and He has, but that’s not his purpose for interacting with us. His purpose is to give us life, even when we don’t deserve it. (more on this in a second). Look at us!! Killing each other, taking advantage of each other, misleading each other, taking the biggest brownie, being rude on the phone to customer service. We are not very deserving of God’s favor. Guess whose favor we’re earning? Satan. Yep. It seems like in times of hatred, despair, and grief, people turn to God for answers…or blame. But let’s not forget: love and hate are a pair. So are God and Satan. Pitted against each other, you’re either for or against.
It is absolutely absurd to say, “Why did God let this happen?”
Why not say, “Why did Satan encourage this to happen?” Because that’s the question with the most obvious answer.
Satan hates you. He hates your life. He doesn’t want you to live, and especially doesn’t want to you live with God. Hating God is the only thing he hates more than you. If you look through the Bible, Satan never attempts to defend himself or mask his motives. He knows who he is and is proud of it. There is no going back for him and he’s going to take as many souls with him as he can.
Satan, the great tempter, is the one who comes into your mind and jeers, “God never liked you. Why don’t you throw a rock in the church window to show him how you feel about that.”
Satan is the one who whispers, “God isn’t going to provide for you. Just steal it from this other person.”
Satan is the one who sneers, “Your life is terrible and will amount to nothing. There is nothing to look forward to and nothing to live for. Might as well put other people out of their misery now and take them with you.”
Do you think God gave the order to murder children? He explicitly rebukes his own closest followers for preventing the children to come up to him and declares, “The kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Jesus loves kids and would never encourage or endorse harmful acts towards them.
Both Satan and God know your life sucks and you’ve done some regrettable things, but there is a major difference between the two. Satan is looking to bring you down with him. God is reaching to pull you up to Him.
Satan is hate. God is love.
God’s love is so great and so deep that He will always be willing to take us back no matter what we do. No matter how just we think we can be, God is more just. Our judgments and punishments dealt to each other are nothing compared to the judgment of refusing God: eternal agony and separation from God.
Does Satan want this for you? Absolutely. If you’re not with God, you’re with him.
Does God want this for you? Absolutely not. Even though God and Satan both agree your life is worthless and undeserving, God decided to do something about it. To become justified for our actions against God, we have to pay a price. A fine. A bail. And because we’re talking about human souls, we can’t put a price of money on it. It has to be something completely innocent to make up for our lack of innocence. Something completely love.
God.
God is love.
So Jesus, who is fully God, took the form of a man and lived as a man, only to voluntarily die. It wasn’t only the death, but the perfection and sacrifice.
Time for a movie reference.
Harry Potter’s parents shielded him with love to save him, while dying in the process. There are some holes in this analogy but the basic idea could be applied.
The better analogy is Aslan from the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Aslan, portraying Jesus, lays down his life as compensation for the “trespasses.” But Aslan knew of a deeper magic, that of innocence taking the place of unworthiness, and became more glorified than he was before.
Likewise, Jesus did not stay dead after his agonizing death but lived again and ascended to the throne of God, which makes Him the only one worth following. I don’t want to listen to a dead guy’s teachings.
If you’ve made it this far, congratulations. You’ve earned the right to comment on this post.
In short, I see a direct correlation between hate and hate.
Those who hate will commit acts of hate.
Likewise, I see a direct correlation between love and love.
Those who love will commit acts of love.
God is love and committed an act of love to redeem our lives that they will not stay worthless and empty. This love encourages and inspires us to love others, to see the value of each life on earth.
Satan is hate and encourages people to commit acts of hate so that our lives will result in death and misery.
Notice neither Satan nor God commit these things themselves….no, it’s all us picking sides and listening to the coach.
You have a choice to make.
Wouldn’t you know, my boss takes us on a trip to one of my favorite places, Goshikinuma, and my camera breaks.
Here is my favorite time of year in one of the most beautiful places in Japan and I can’t take a single picture. In all fairness, my little Sony Cybershot has been the most faithful camera in its 5 years of compact existence. Despite the extreme temperature changes, climates, modes of transportation, being thrown, dropped, laid on rough surfaces, and even submerged underwater in a plastic bag, it still works. All I need is to replace the battery that no longer holds a charge. But hey, I’m a product of the “if it breaks don’t fix it” generation and I just want to buy a new camera! I’m upgrading too, so it’s a dual purpose. If you’re still skeptical I was considering buying a more capable camera before I went to Japan so I’m actually overdue. Anyways, I bought a new camera.
Guess what else I bought? Tickets to New Zealand! Or rather, a ticket since it’s one way. March 29th is my last day in Japan and the gap is closing rather steadily. This term is so busy that it’s going by at the speed of day. Every weekend from now until Christmas is already booked with something or someone. Fun times, but I am also enjoying these last few months I have in beautiful Japan.
The team of teachers got dressed up and went into the city for a night out together. The new restaurant gave us a room to ourselves, enclosed in glass, situated outside the main building and sided by gardens. Too bad it was dark outside. The food was delicious and the company unparalleled. Second annual Funehiki Formal was a success!
 Thanksgiving weekend was also a wonderful time, though I had to work on the actual Thursday holiday. Since my running has been suspended I took a Thanksgiving Day swim at the pool instead of a brisk run per my tradition. Gotta get exercising to start the metabolic process! Friday was a Japanese Labor Day of sorts so most of us spent it baking pies and thawing turkeys for the big Saturday feast. 11 teachers plus 5 other friends snugly fit into Linsey’s apartment around three tables fit end to end. Several pans of green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, and stuffing were eaten quickly between bites of juicy turkey and swigs of punch. The turkeys and some hard to find ingredients were purchased at Costco, two prefectures away! Eric and I hitched a ride with a friend from Koriyama and went team shopping, spending around $500 dollars on things like mozzarella cheese, butter, pretzels, bagels, pizza, muffins, and tortillas. You just can’t get those things here…or they’re super expensive/not legit. It’s why I found myself paying $50 for a honey ham. Yep, it’s been 1.5 years since I’ve tasted one and I thought it was worth it. Eric ended up splitting it with me so we’re happily enjoying the expensive holiday meat.
Like I said before, every weekend is full. December 1st was the yochien Christmas pageant for the 3-4 yr. olds. The English teachers did a few musical numbers, acting out Sleigh Ride, singing O Come O Come Emmanuel, and partying to Feliz Navidad. Next week the 3 Wakakusa girls and Hope will sing Carol of the Bells, O Holy Night, and 12 Days of Christmas. The 1st is also when I completed my Christmas Cards, started making cookies, and played in the first snow of the season!
On the 2nd I drove up to Fukushima City with my new friend Naomi and we met other Deaf and Hearing people for an International Sign Language workshop. For $25 we got a 2 hr. class and the lessons on DVD. It was such an amazing experience! The presenter was a Deaf Japanese lady, presenting in JSL (Japanese Sign Language). I don't know that language. So two ladies volunteered to voice interpret for me from JSL to Japanese. Oh great, another language I don’t know! But actually, between the visual cues from JSL and the spoken Japanese I understood about 90% of the material, which I thought was pretty great! The presenter understood and signed ASL pretty well, so if I had a question I just asked her directly and she interpreted ME to the rest of the group. I’M A MINORITY EVERYWHERE. Since I was already an outside-outsider and getting more attention than I wanted due to the voice interpreters I lived it up, asked as many questions as I could, volunteered to practice the new dialogues in front of everyone, and introduced myself to people. A bunch of Koriyama attendees went out to lunch so I joined them and the presenter for a bowl of udon and some lively multi-lingual signing. I made new friends. Great, now I kind of don’t want to leave…
The first batches of cookie dough are chilling in the fridge, the first rounds of Christmas movies have been watched and the tunes are playing all day long. I still have a lot to do this month but I’m counting the days until I see my brother and cousins in Germany. Yay!!!!
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