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!!!!
 I just finished my very last day ever of English Camp. Milestone passed. For as much as we like to complain about camp it’s actually really fun and we can only speak well of it when we’re on the other side looking back. Isn’t that how it is with the rest of life?!
It takes a few weeks of preparation and complete group cooperation to pull off successfully. There are always last-minute changes and additions to the details of the program so flexibility is key. Last year I taught at 4 different camps but this year I only did two, I didn’t get sick, and I didn’t feel exhausted by the kids. During the two days, all the 6th graders gather in a gym to experience our programs. We play ice-breakers to get to know each other, decide on a team name and make team posters, teach them Halloween words and some shopping dialogue, then let them run their own team “store” with fake money as they go about buying things from their assigned lists. The second day is very fun as they immediately make Halloween masks and decorate a candy bag. One girl chopped off an Asymmetrical portion of her paper plate mask and asked for a new one. Not wanting to waste anything I colored it yellow and patched the cut portion back on at an angle to make it look like a pac man. Teacher win. The second camp I was wearing my Jack Sparrow hat from Disneyland so I made my mask with a bunch of eyes in line with my own eyes, like the cannibal painted face from Pirates II. Can you believe none of the students had seen that movie?! They just looked at me and said, “scary.”
The pirate hat I wore all morning on “Halloween Day” was just a red herring.
My real costume was a Barbie. Karaoke Barbie. Celeste, Rachel, and I love to make up names for ourselves in groups of three and somehow, someday, we came up with Barbie names for each other and occasionally address each other in that manner.
Twisted, I know.
Skipping around with a jump rope and matching tennis shoes, Rachel is Sporty Barbie which is probably a legit model anyways.
Luggage-toting Celeste is Travel Barbie, but since she was wearing a suit like a flight attendant she got a few more names than that: Office Barbie, Business Barbie, Special Agent Barbie, Escort Barbie (!), and Spy Barbie.
Holding a microphone made from a dress sock and paper towel tube I was Karaoke Barbie, but the first thing out of some kid’s mouth was “Lady Gaga!!!”
Every year. What is wrong with these children?
It was a tough business, being blonde and wearing heels. I mean, I’ve worn heels before but being blonde on top of it just made me feel so…loopy. It was an automatic brain-off function. The valley girl speech flowed out like a second language. The long curls kept sticking to my shiny red lip gloss, and I ran like a girl around the duck duck goose circle trying not to fall in my shoes. It was almost scary how easy it was to be….well, dumb.
Anyways, after changing into costumes and parading around in front of the children by light of jack o’ lanterns, we split into our teams and played “Ghost, Ghost Zombie,” which you all know as duck duck goose. After that we gave them candy and initiated a huge rock paper scissors tournament. Depending on the facility we either played octopus (sharks and minnows) or Fruit Basket (Halloween Basket).
Yep, that’s English camp…playing with kids, basically. Oh, we taught the ABC’s somewhere in there….
Other things that happen in Funehiki
Football.
I never really got into football. I mean, I watch the superbowl every year but basically I don’t care who wins as long as it’s not the Patriots. So, when Rachel asked me to go to Fukushima City with her and watch a friend’s football game I just figured I’d enjoy the beautiful Fall weather and bring a book. I admit, taking the 8am train to watch football on a Sunday morning didn’t seem like a fair trade, but when we got to the train station we ended up renting bicycles for free!!! This eliminated the 1hr walk to the stadium and gave us more time to bike around the river and eat lunch, find a REAL pizzeria for dinner, and explore some side streets. The game itself ended up to be very close and in the last quarter we won 7-6. The Japanese men ranged in age from 19-55, height from 5’4” to 5’11,” and the biggest guy’s weight probably didn’t go over 180 lbs. I was afraid for their lives. American football is so scarce in Japan that one entire prefecture/state has one team that meets on the weekends for practice, scrimmage, or game. Our team had exactly 3 extra guys on the sidelines to rotate in, so everyone played offense, defense, special teams, kicking, etc.
Meanwhile, back at the apartments, Jay decided to buy a NFL pass and watches a game about every other day, several on the weekends. People gather in his living room and shouts, screams, and clapping can be heard for hours at a time out the open windows. Every now and then I join them, usually rooting for the Seahawks, Packers, Giants, or 49ers. Like I said, I don't really care as long as it’s not the Patriots. I think I’ve seen about 4 full games and 2 partial games. That’s the most I’ve ever watched in one season! I’m starting to talk football and pick up the referees’ hand signals. Really I’m just glad I can follow the football now! Watching football on TV is really difficult…just a blur of guys and uniforms running into each other until the camera suddenly shifts and people are on the ground. Then the little yellow line moves. But yeah, I’m making progress.
The trees are starting to slowly change color and the weather is getting cooler. Perfect. I love Fall so much.
Birthdays do not go unnoticed here on the team. We try and cater to individual tastes and preferences here…if you read my birthday weekend blog from April you’ll understand.
Bryan is the newest member of the team having arrived on August 20th, but no exceptions we did the best we could to celebrate his birth and life.
Wednesday we had cake and a hand-drawn awesome card by Dan. We sang happy birthday.
Friday night we took him out to dinner at a yakiniku place (grill your own meat right in front of yourself) at a place called “Brian’s” nonetheless. It was late at night and we were in Koriyama so we left in time to make the very last train home at 10:56.
Or was it 10:54?
No, it was 10:46.
No, it was 10:43.
There was lots of discussion of the actual train time on our long walk back to the train station until Rachel finally took the effort to pull out her train schedule and look at the departure.
10:43.
Current time: 10:44.
We missed the train! We all started freaking out since taking a taxi would be very expensive and we hadn’t planned on staying in Koriyama all night.
Or had we?
Surprise!
We stopped on the bridge right before the fun center complex “Round One” and broke the news: Happy Birthday! We’re going to be locked in Round One from 11-6am. All you can play games, complete with ultimate Frisbee in the soccer area and 3-floor sardines! They admitted us into the center and gave us each a complimentary bag of popcorn. Let the festivities begin! I was pleasantly surprised to find free lockers in the ladies spa area…and a waterbed that doubled as a massage bed with jet massagers. Awesome.
We played Frisbee, sardines as a group and then I did my own thing…mostly comprised of the large massage chairs, hot stone spa table, water jets, round of billiards, and the odd shooting arcade game thrown in the mix.
Come 6am we sleepily wandered downtown to the station and passed the time waiting for the train. I slept until 1:30 and made myself get up. The rest of the afternoon was lubricating my bicycle, watching episodes of “Chuck,” and attending Ashley’s impromptu “Wine and Cheese” night. I love that girl.
Back to sleep I go at 10:30 and sleep like a stone until this morning, waking up to the rain and cool air.
Fall is here!!!
Rachel and I had a little church service in my apartment before going into Koriyama to have coffee and write blogs. We’re pretty sure the guy sitting at the window is an undercover agent waiting for his contact to arrive and make the drop.
 Celeste reclining by the water's edge. I suppose you all deserve an update to my current situation in life. I mean, I’ve been posting something at least each month and my time is quickly running out for September’s deadline.
I can’t believe it’s the last week of September already. Where has the time gone?! After my summer adventures I returned to sleepy Funehiki for a few days of rest before returning to work. Truthfully, I knew what the new term had in store so I can’t complain about being busy.
The new term is a perfect time to restructure a class: the dictatorship reigns supreme. Miss Susie took the 6th grade class by storm and issued an ultimatum of “study or leave.” It’s mostly working.
All classes started a 5 minute writing workout at the beginning of each class. Before I even start the class I write some words on the board and how many times they are to copy it in their notebooks (months, days of the week, weather vocabulary, etc.). It gets them to turn off their personal playstation consoles and get to writing. I’m a genius.
The other change is the loss of my 6th graders. No, I didn’t misplace them and they didn’t die. One of the Japanese teachers takes one day a week and goes through the STEP test curriculum with them. Complete with dry grammar instruction, memorizing written tables, and spelling tests, it’s the epitome of Japanese English education. All the work we do here trying to get the kids to speak English and internalize it through oral methods morphs into the robotic language production for which Japan is renowned. I have two classes of 6th graders: one is a mixed class on Tuesdays and Fridays, the other is only girls on Wednesday nights. Now I only teach the mixed class on Fridays and I never see my girls (but they are taught by Celeste on Mondays). Workwise it lessens the load of teaching, but I cringe knowing they’re studying for a test. You know, the whole standardized testing battle that everyone is against but no one knows how to fight. I’ll just keep on teaching my younger kids and have hope for the next generation.
Let’s catch up on the more exciting parts of my life.
Weekend of awesomeness: Celeste and Rachel are my homegirls who work with me at the English School. We also live next to each other on the top floor. Needless to say we are up in each other’s grills 24/7. Why then would we choose to spend a 3-day weekend with each other? Because they’re awesome, that’s why.
Last year we trekked to Goshikinuma, the 5 colored lakes, and spent the night at a hostel almost by ourselves and enjoyed a nice adventure to a blueberry patch (Check out my other blog for the story).
After looking into other options we decided on the same location but came better prepared.
For the bus schedule I looked it up on the internet. I now know all the kanji for this trip. No surprises.
For the lakes we were sure to arrive with plenty of time to take a rowboat out…and plenty of time to row back in since Celeste is a beginner rower.
For the onsen we were sure to bring our own towels.
For the evening’s entertainment we were sure to walk up the road to the convenience store to buy our snacks instead of dropping a wad of cash at the omiyage shop in the hotel.
We also brought some of our own…snacks and stuff.
For the following day we were sure to have a good map of our hiking course.
The other thing that set this weekend apart was our pact to each other: As of the moment we crossed the threshold of the train car, any mention of work or teaching was strictly prohibited, punishable by instant crunches. Happy thoughts only. Thankfulness was encouraged.
It seemed that nothing could go wrong on our trip.
It started off perfectly with a train ride into Koriyama and transfer to the local west-bound. We got off at Joko and walked to Lake Inawashiro. Perfectly beautiful and sunny we set our towels on the sand and scanning the beach found only two other beach-goers at either end. The entire middle section became a playground for the Wakakusa Ladies Retreat. I brought a beach ball that was determined to run away from us, frolicking down the beach by himself with every gentle breeze that came along. After a time of admiring the puffy white clouds and panoramic view of the shimmering water encapsulated by misty mountains we packed up and took the train to Inawashiro. Boarding the bus on schedule it dropped us off near the hostel and we walked to our little summer home. There were many people there this year, not only hostel guests but a herd of nomadic bikers and tents of barbecuing families. Perhaps we should curb the nighttime excitement this year. We reclaimed the large end room and set out our futons side-by-side. Running off to the lake we arrived in time for a half-hour rowing session. The handsome young boat-keeper gently pushed us from the dock and we roamed the crystal clear waters.
 I peered from the bow to watch little fishies darting to and fro among the swampy underwater forest fronds. Rounding a bend the trees encircling the pond found a clearing and the majestic and fractured Mt. Bandai peered out to expose its red crater to the setting sun. Taking pictures we didn't forget to capture the glassy lake surface that perfectly reflected the clouds and trees overhead. Docking the boat we stayed by the lakeside to watch the giant koi beg for food, opening their gaping mouths and passing back and forth like ugly impatient trolls. Koi are kind of ugly, especially the ones with weird mustache-looking appendages, brown and gold scales looking as if they were pasted together like some cruel fashion joke from 1973.
Suddenly a man appeared, kneeling by the waters edge and smiling kindly…and a little creepily. A woman later joined him and we learned it was his wife. He became less creepy. We had a small “where are you from” chat and learned that he comes here often to look for “the heart fish.” Surprised at our ignorance he pulled out his cellphone to show us a picture he drew of this fish, flawlessly white except for an obvious perfectly shaped red heart naturally appearing on its side. He reached in his bag and said, “I want to give you a gift because we are from the same area” (he had taught in a school in our town some years before). Giving us three postcards of his artwork he autographed them and went on his way.
Turned out this guy was a published local artist. They were selling his postcards in the gift shop! That’s a win for being a foreigner and having random people approach you just to meet you.
The night was no less enjoyable as we made friends at the dinner table with some bikers at the hostel. We gave them a little concert at the old upright piano after the meal. I had thought ahead and brought a selection of worship music for us to sing though. All the occupants, plus a few campers from the grounds who heard the sounds gathered around and listened to us sing and play. Of course they couldn’t understand the lyrics but it was a very pleasant atmosphere. A family with two kids joined the audience and we obliged them by singing a few Disney selections. The little girl played piano and picked out a tune from the movie Totoro. With our social obligations fulfilled we headed out to the onsen for some relaxation and pampering in the outdoor bath. Rose soap…mmmm…
Back in our room we played cards and ate chocolate until we were shaking the wrappers out of our sheets.
In the morning we ate breakfast with our new friends and changed into some girly dresses and skirts for hiking. Yes, hiking in a dress happened, though with a pair of shorts underneath. We started along the lake trail and passed many curious people who were not sly giving us “American’s are crazy” looks. Hey, I wasn’t the one walking down the rocky and rooted path in a pair of heels, okay. Save your criticism for your broken ankle, crazy Japanese ladies…
Then we missed the bus. Don’t ask me how it happened because I had it all planned out perfectly. We just missed it, and watched it pull out down the highway in front of us…
So we walked.
We walked happily, whistling and singing.
We walked precariously, looking at the sides of the road in case the wild monkeys returned. Yes, we saw wild monkeys, looking like wild bearded mountain men in the front and mooning us with bare pink butts in the back.
We walked until we reached the trailhead and met a nice lady at a peach stand. Oh by the way, peaches can be bought for a mere $2.50 apiece. Sad days.
Mt. Bandai
|
Tropical flower...yeah that's all I know.
|  Only a few minutes into our jungle hike we waded through a patch of sticky weed and our cute outfits were plagued with green balls of annoyance for the rest of the trip. We jumped a few creeks, limboed under a fallen tree, and carefully negotiated a slippery narrow ravine trail before ending up at a waterfall to end the nature-section of our retreat.
Determined not to miss the bus we stood at the bus stop with 15 minutes to spare. I deployed my umbrella to block the heat of the sun and we stood by the roadside between someone’s house and a kind of public bath house, the only two structures in sight. The time for the bus came….and went. No bus. I checked and rechecked the schedule but everything said that the bus should have come. These buses are seldom, if ever, late even in the snowy winter season. After ten minutes we began to make alternate plans. We couldn’t walk because of the significant distance into town. While there were plenty of passing cars this holiday weekend we were just past a curve in the road…a little dangerous. The next bus wasn’t for an hour and a half…but if this one hadn’t come, will the next one ever get here? Maybe it was the wrong schedule after all.
We kept looking down the road and decided to hitch a ride. I was the only one in the party who had ever done such a thing. My thumb was out for about 15 seconds as one car passed by and I came up with another idea: send up a prayer.
It went like this: “God, please send a bus. But even if you don’t we’ll choose to be happy about our situation.” The end.
Happy thoughts, remember?
Turning our eyes back on the road we spotted 3 people instantly come out of the bath house. The crossed to our side of the street and said hi. They walked past us and opened up their 7 passenger van parked right behind us in the gravel.
“Are you hitchhiking?”
Well, yes, actually.
“Where are you going?”
Into town. Our bus is very late and we don’t know if it’s coming.
“We don’t know where Inawashiro is but we’ll take you there. Jump in!”
Okay.
No sooner had we got our packs in the car when our very late bus went barreling down the road. Since we weren’t dutifully standing by the bus stop and awkwardly placed after the curve on a hill it didn’t even slow down. Guess we’re taking the van!
Our new out of town friends put our destination in the GPS and got us there with a few minutes to spare before the train left.
Essentially we saved a whole ten bucks on the bus fare that day plus our faith-meters rose a couple of inches. God is always faithful!
Returning to Koriyama we scoped out a restaurant to have a mojito and Asian fusion… being only 2:30 in the afternoon it wasn’t even open yet so we settled on Japanese Italian. What’s the difference? Garlic bread lacking in garlic and butter, spaghetti lacking in flavor, calzone lacking in filling, and bring your own Ziploc bag for leftovers. Oh well.
The Wakakusa Ladies Retreat ended successfully Sunday afternoon and we still had another whole day to relax before work started again…the term of English Camp is approaching…
Don’t Cry in Your Miso Soup
I’ve met the neighbor a few times. He’s a very kind gentleman who always gives the family omiyage when he comes back from a trip or just for fun. Takae has told me he’s a Christian and attends a church…somewhere. He lost his wife a few years ago and lives by himself in the suburban neighborhood. Active in a group for retired-age people he has some friends and stays busy. He also cooks for himself since his wife passed away which made everyone nervous when he invited us over for dinner. Okaasan made a casserole dish to bring…just in case.
We rang the doorbell and he invited us in warmly as we exchanged our shoes for house slippers in the genkan. He had place settings all around a large table and some food ready to eat. Everything looked delicious! Then the secret weapon came out: a woman from his active group offered to come and help him cook for the occasion! Aha. Looks like Okaasan didn’t need to make that casserole after all.
There was plenty of food to go around, course after course, and I couldn’t eat all of it. The fellows were drinking beer and sake to achieve the weekend mood; Otoosan’s face quickly turned bright red and Grandpa (Ojiichan) was talking livelier by the minute, hardly stopping for anyone’s input. I couldn’t understand most of what they were talking about but I enjoyed the uplifting atmosphere. That was, until, I noticed a change of pace in conversation. The kind neighbor who had invited us over was telling a story, using his hands to draw pictures in the air and punctuate his sentences. Everyone was listening respectfully and I caught a few words I recognized.
Radiation.
Bomb.
Boat.
Island.
Family.
Takae translated the story for me and I listened with two ears: one in Japanese for the emotion, and one in English for the meaning.
This kind man who invited us over watched his entire family die in Hiroshima. He was just a kid in first grade when the officials started evacuating the children, herding them onto large ferry boats to an island offshore for safety. His mother, father, and older siblings did not merit a ride, nor did any of his extended family of aunts, uncles, or grandparents. Just him, riding away across the inlet sea, turning around to see the mushroom cloud rise far up into the sky. He returned to the ashes of his family.
Someone asked how well he remembered it.
“Like it was yesterday. I remember everything.”
America did that. My ancestors did that. We killed his family, left him orphaned at age 7. Here he was sharing his dinner with me and looking at me with friendly, loving eyes, proud to have me as a guest in his house. I have never been so humbled in my life; I started crying into my miso soup with my head down. That kind of forgiveness is something I can’t even fathom except by the grace of God.
Essentially that is what the story of Jesus is all about: I did something terrible against God, betrayed him and turned my back on Him. I followed evil people and did wrong things like lying and cheating. These things against God can’t be allowed and I had to be separated from Him since His perfectness can’t be in the same place as evil. A price had to be paid for my mistakes. A high price: death. Only blood of a truly innocent person could save me from this penalty. But where can you find an innocent person willing to die for you? It’s not like there are sinless people just lining the streets looking for a one-way ticket to death for a crime they didn’t commit. Jesus did though; He volunteered to take my place. He died for me and forgave me of the sins that made Him die in the first place.
Sitting at the dining room table with this incredible man made me think of the sacrifice and forgiveness of Jesus Christ and I can’t help but tell both stories at the same time. They are just that powerful.
You can read history books all you want about WWII and why America dropped two atomic bombs on Japanese citizens. You can read about the horrors of the war from both sides and the how’s and why’s of men’s actions, explanations and strategies and excuses of the rules of engagement. What you can’t read about and what you’ll never truly understand is the forgiveness that comes with pure love unless you experience it.
 The rest of my vacation. Well, arriving Saturday afternoon I was quickly whisked away on the next train back into the heart of Tokyo to the river. Takae, her sister Yuko, and I battled onto the crowded trains on our way to the largest fireworks festival of the summer. Girls everywhere were dressed up in traditional yukata clothes and some guys wore jimbes. Everyone had a fan and people were giving them out on the streets. We met some friends at the last train station and got in line behind 200 people to board a bus to the event. We waited for a long time. Getting off the bus we went to a convenience store to get some drinks and then joined the masses walking down streets and alleys to the riverside. Parking and traffic cops were directing the hordes of people. We found more friends who had staked out a spot on flat ground and marked it with a blue tarp. Thousands of other people had done the same thing, making the ground look like a massive extension of blue river. The sun was just starting to send out orange and yellow rays into the clouds so we quickly opened our containers of homemade fried chicken to join the spread of other yummy foods people had brought.
 We sat and ate for the next two hours, enjoying the fireworks and commenting to each other. Up river we could see the distant Chiba fireworks lighting up the sky, and down river there were huge Mickey Mouse ears exploding into sparks in the space above Disneyland. It was a remarkably clear and pleasant evening scene, not too hot or too cold. There was barely a breeze making it difficult to see the fireworks at times because the smoke didn’t clear in time for the next set. We rode back the same way we came, again pushing through the masses of people on the train all the way home.
After Fuji, well, we pretty much just sat around for two days and did nothing but eat and sift through 547 pictures of the trip. I whittled them down to almost 200 and posted them on Facebook. You’re welcome.
We rented the Pirates of the Caribbean and The Soloist, neither of which they'd seen before. We also watched the footage Otoosan shot of us climbing the mountain. We laughed at our goofy selves.
One day Takae and I went into town to meet her friend Daniel and we went to a rabbit café. If you’ve never heard it's kind of a Tokyo thing. I think they started as “Cat cafés” where people could come and sip a drink while petting or snuggling a cat. Some places let you bring your own cat. Then rabbit cafés popped up and offered the same service. I’ve heard there are dog cafés too. We went in and asked for an hour. After being seated and ordering a drink we got up and started chasing the bunnies wandering around the room. There were about 5 different bunnies in a glass room on the side of the building. We went in and sat on one of the once white leather couches, the bottoms clearly chewed and rubbed-on by little paws and teeth. They gave us crocs to wear as soon as we went in which saved us from worrying about stepping in rabbit pellets. Some rabbits were in cages, the males, we were told. The females were out and about, not allowed to mix with their opposite-gendered friends. They weren’t as happy to be picked up as I imagined, and I had to chase a few to get one to snuggle. They were cute, but I would rather just have a puppy.
 I get excited about things like food. |  Dried fruit is so good. |  Beer supply wagon We wandered the streets of that district and I picked up some dried bananas from Taiwan and dried papaya from the Philippines. The gelato vendor made it an easy decision to stop there too. I found a cute skirt for 800 yen.
We peaced out and said goodbye to Daniel in a few hours in order to make it home in time with our dinner date with our neighbor, a widowed grandpa in need of some company. More on that in the next blog.
 As previously mentioned, I got back from a 3-day hiking journey on Friday night, threw my clothes into the washer and got to bed. In the morning I repacked my bags and took the 11:46 train on the way to Tokyo. That night we went to a fireworks festival and came back late (more on that in the next blog). Sunday morning was the beginning of epicness. Takae and I went to nearby Machida on reconnaissance. We went to two hiking stores picking up a spare pare of wool socks and waterproof hiking gloves. We went to a famous teashop where I bought omiyage for some special friends back home, and then to the library to return some books. Stopping in the CD section I spotted something. It was very alluring. I knew I would listen to it every day for the rest of my life until I’d memorized the whole thing.
What was it?
The 2 CD set of popular Disney songs. Bilingual version in English and Japanese. Oh yeah.
But I didn’t have time to put them on my mp3 player because we spent the rest of the afternoon packing.
Everyone met up in the bedroom.
“Okay everyone, put all your things next to your pack.” Said Otosan. He read down his master list: “Raincoat!”
We all put our raincoats in our bag.
“Rain pants!”
Check.
“Camp mug!”
Check.
“Cup of noodles!”
Check.
“Earplugs!”
Um, no.
He handed out everyone a tube of earplugs labeled with their initials. They’re for sleeping in the lodge with a hundred other hikers, of course. This guy thinks of everything.
“Mask!”
Um, no.
He handed everyone a plastic bag with two masks and a folded bandana of a different color. Mine was purple. J They’re for the trek down the dusty mountain side, of course!
“Snacks!”
Oh, that’s a big check for me. I brought a huge baggie of almonds, raisins, and craisins.
“Glucose!”
Huh?
For “energy” we were issued a large bag of pure sugar chunks…basically broken sugar cubes for those of you who remember pinching them from the refreshments table at church. Ahem.
I was pretty sure we weren’t running a marathon or doing any kind of activity that required immediate high doses of energy but whatever. We were also issued amino acid supplements or something like that in gel form. Tasted like plastic apples. I’m saving mine for the next 1 hour run I do.
After we packed everything up I returned to my room to repack everything in proper order of use.
I know you’re all wondering what I brought so I’ll tell you what you need to get for a successful trip on Mt. Fuji.
1. Patagonia Torrentshell rain pants
2. Mountain Hardware Stretch Cohesion rain shell jacket.
3. Ex-officio breathable underwear. Awesome.
4. Mountain Hardware Ascent Stretch Air Permeable Gaiters. Awesome. If you hike and don't have gaiters I suggest you buy some and change your life.
5. 2 Hiking poles
6. Waterproof mesh-lined gloves
7. Keen Gore-Tex-lined low-profile hiking boots.
8. Smartwool mid-weight long sleeve shirt and pants (under layer)
9. Nike super breathable/wicking short sleeve shirt.
10. Cheap pair of shorts, long sleeve tech shirt, cheap target fleece jacket, ball cap, warm winter hat, bandana, and sunglasses.
11. Personal items like sunscreen, Chap Stick, hand sanitizer, emergency blanket, masks, and deodorant. I forgot my toothbrush. Otoosan brought body wipes, first aid kit, tea, oxygen, and our legal papers/insurance info.
12. Backpack with Platypus 3 liter bladder and rain tarp.
13. Snacks: my almond/raisin mix, a few soyjoy bars, beef jerky, and chocolate. We ate two meals on the mountain provided by the hut where we stayed.
14. Camera. My little Sony Cybershot 3.1mp has been doing well for many years but it might be time to upgrade soon. Maybe I’ve dropped it too many times.
15. Change purse with 100-yen coins. Bathrooms cost 200 yen each time and 300 at the top.
16. Towel and safety pins to use over the issued sleeping bags. Tens of thousands of people climb this mountain every year. Guess how often they do the laundry…
17. Money for souvenirs! They’re so expensive I don’t even want to tell you how much I paid for a keychain and postcard.
Okay, I think that’s about it. I used everything I brought except for the long sleeve shirt and mask.
Everyone tried to be in bed by ten and we were mostly successful. I was to tired from the past few days of traveling and hiking that I slept very well until the 4:30 wake-up call. We got the last few things together and packed up the car, grabbing breakfast at the 7-11 store along the way. I chose a few rice balls, yogurt, and vegetable juice knowing it would be awhile before I got dairy and vitamin C. Yuko, Takae’s sister, got dehydrated wonton soup and filled it with near boiling water at the store. Getting in the car she handed it to Takae who was sitting between us while she…I don’t know…got something or was doing something. 2 minutes later the hot soup spilled all over Takae’s thigh! It turned bright red and puffy. A little bit spilled on my leg too but not very badly. We pulled over and got out. Everyone was cleaning up the backseat of the car but I was looking at the leg. She needs ice! Yuko ran back to the 7-11 and came back with two frozen bottles of Calpice soda to put on the wound. Hahaha. We wrapped them in a towel and put them on the burn. After the car was cleaned up we headed back to the 7-11 so Yuko could buy another breakfast…not soup…and we finished eating in the car.
 In less than 2 hours we arrived at the base of the mountain, leaving our non-essentials in the car, lacing up our boots and hopping on the bus to station 5. As soon as we arrived in the parking lot it started to rain…like, torrential cats and dogs rain. We sheltered inside the building which was a weird fusion between gift shop and café. Ordering some soup and dessert we followed the rigid plan concocted by Otoosan to wait for 2 hours for our bodies to adjust to the new altitude of 2000 meters (about 6500ft.). Donning our raingear we stepped boldly onto the trail and began the 4 hr. walk up to station 7.
 After about 45 minutes Yuko asked us to walk faster. She had to pee and needed to reach station 6 a.s.a.p. Otoosan wasn’t about to break the “slow and steady wins the race/doesn’t get altitude sickness” pace and told her to go ahead and meet us there. So she trekked up ahead while we enjoyed the flora and fauna coming straight out of an old English novel. In the rain.
Approaching station 6 the rain subsided and the clouds parted to reveal the top of the mountain. Everyone turned around and started snapping photos of the summit so far away. Continuing up the trail and now reunited with Yuko we were suddenly taking more breaks and walking very slowly. I turned around to find Yuko with a bottle of oxygen against her mouth. Uh oh. Her sudden ascent to station 6 was a little too much for her body to handle and she never really recovered from it, nursing from the oxygen bottle all the way to the summit.
 The mountain is out! We still have a long ways to go.  Mini Fuji sticks, in case you only get this far I guess. |  Saito family ready for action! |  Around p.m. we made it to station 7, an hour or so more than planned but it didn’t matter. Shoving our packs in our sleeping bunks we were summoned to a nice warm dinner of soup, rice, meat patty, pickled vegetables, and other things I don’t remember. Everything was delicious!
 Outside we watched the colors of the clouds change as the sun set on the opposite side of the mountain. Everything was clear and we could see the lights of the valley towns far below us. The temperature had dropped since our first step on the trail and now sat at what I call “fleece temperature” though the slight wind chill made it profitable to wear my windproof rain shell for ideal protection.
 The first and second tiers. The ladder behind the post is going up to the attic tier. Back in the lodge we faced a dilemma. 3 tiers of futon were set up the entire length of the room with a path down the center. The topmost tier was basically the attic where the roof made a triangle and the rafters separated sleeping hikers. Our rafter space was designated for 3 people so us three girls put our packs up there and hung our wet things up to dry. The parents’ space was right below us on the second tier but the people next to them took up more than their fair share, making it large enough for 1.25 people. Okaasan ended up bunking with us girls and we looked like a can of sleeping bagged sardines. Sleeping tightly didn’t bother me, but the used futons were so thin that even though they were stacked 3 on top of each other, they were so hard my hips hurt the entire night. I tried sleeping on my back and achieved about 20 minutes of sleep. The rest of the night I just lay their with my eyes closed and imagined I would drift off any second….one time I got bored and took out my ear plugs. Big mistake. All of a sudden my serene but uncomfortable sleeping quarters turned into a pig farm where all the pigs were scrambling to get out of the way of the bacon blade. Japanese people may be small but there’s no comparison to the snoring that comes out of them. It was so loud. I quickly reinserted my earplugs and resigned myself to just resting.
Up again at am or some ridiculous hour we all assembled outside to watch the sunrise from the East-facing station 7 on Subarishi trail. Beautiful and clear, it didn’t seem to matter whether or not we were on the summit. Most people stay the night at a low station and then climb up during the early hours to see the sunrise on the summit. This makes the trail at night very crowded and I imagine super crowded on the rim as well. I’m glad we were not up there.
 Now that our bodies had slept (or in my case rested) at 2400 meters we packed up again and took off to the top. The, uh, ladies in our group are a tough group to get going in the morning and we left later than the group leader anticipated. Yuko was still feeling terrible and we made what we called “manatee speed.” It was slow. We reached the 8th station and the trail merged with another popular trail.
We reached the 8 ½ station.
We reached the 9th station and saw tori gates leading up to the top. I could see the Japan flag waving on the distant summit.
Hours later we finally passed the lions and through the final tori gate arriving with a hundred other people at the summit. Actually it wasn’t the true summit but who cares. There were lots of foreigners milling about, people of all ages, children and grandpas, even a guy who’s climbed it over 20 times! We set up near a building to block the wind chill and boiled some water for our cup of noodles and tea.
 Japan is infamous for its plethora of vending machines. It is rumored you can buy just about anything from these machines and I have definitely seen some weird things. Electronics, sanitary items like deodorant and toothbrushes, beer, cigaretts, and all kinds of soda/coffee/juice/water/sports drinks that aren’t available in the US. At the summit, should your heart desire, you can buy a 12oz bottle of cold CocaCola for a mere 500 yen (about $5.50). Supply and demand. We bought some postcards and souvenirs, stamping them with the famous Fuji altitude stamps. We walked around the perimeter of the crater, stopping at the post office to mail them from the top of Japan. Ever gotten a postcard marked at 12,000 ft.? I didn’t think so. I’m also sorry I didn’t think that far ahead or I would have pre-addressed postcards to mail to all of you from the top. Sorry.
 The coolest thing I saw, apart from the sunrise, is a part in the crater that looks like Darth Vader. See for yourself.
Walking around to the opposite side of the crater we approached the true summit at 3776 meters, 12,388ft. Yata! From here it was just down, down, down, down, down, down…..
There was a bit of strong wind around the rim but nothing to fret over. It was mostly cloudy with the occasional break in clouds to make you take out your camera. We put our bandanas over our faces to protect against the dust coming down the mountain but ended up not needing them. The rain from the day before made the mountain soil texture quite nice for a dust-free hike. I walked backwards down the mountain to save my knees and muscles from hurting the next day. A very soft section of the trail made it fun to run and bounce in the sandy terrain, protected by my trusty gaiters of course.
 The wide, long trail down in the center. The short, narrow, steep trail up on the far left.  Sliding down the fun part of the trail |  The famous Fuji shadow |  Me, fooling around at the top of the crater. I missed my calling as an Olympic ski jumper. The sun started to set. Oh, it’s so pretty!
Wait. We were supposed to be off of the mountain by 3pm. What time is it?
Well, we busted out the flashlights because it was after six and we weren’t even past station 6 yet. Oh crap.
Getting into the tree line again the trail became narrower and there were roots everywhere. We went slowly but still overtook a family of 5 inching their way along. Only 2 flashlights between them, the 4 yr. old was clinging to mom’s hand with dad lighting the way, and the 8 yr. old and 6 yr. old shared a flashlight. I gave one of the kids my spare flashlight and we made them walk between us for safety. Two other guys came up behind us and opted to stay with the large group, making our party 12 people coming down the mountain in the dark. I stopped looking at my watch after that but we spent a near 36 hours on the mountain. We got home at 11:30pm and crashed. Poor Otoosan had to work the next day. The rest of us spent Wednesday unpacking and cleaning our gear. The only ones able to walk up and down the stairs with no negative effects were me and Okaasan, who had also walked down the mountain backwards because of her hurting knees. Oh yeah.
So, I climbed Mt. Fuji, walked around the top, and didn’t get altitude sickness. I fulfilled my dream of many years and feel great.
I need a new dream.
Oh look, there are 192 countries I haven’t been to yet…
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