Who would have thought I’d be able to stretch out a weekend trip that occurred a month ago this long? I’ve finally run out of things to say about it (hey, it was bound to happen), although it will always remain one of my fondest memories of our time here.
I will officially end the Nikko series with an illustration of a fundamental truth here in Japan: Things are not always what they seem.
Star & Ash finally reach the border of their hometown. After 7.5 hours of following deceptively easy-to-follow road signs, they are feeling slightly claustrophobic and hungry.
Star: We should get something for dinner.
Ash: I just want something simple… like a sandwich.
Star: Okay. There’s a grocery store on our way home. I might grab something ready made though.
Later, in front of Kasumi's glistening, modern-looking self-serve yakitori* counter...
Star: Mmmm, they all look tasty.
Ash: Do you remember me telling you about my experience at the yakitori restaurant my boss took me to one night?
Star: Yes…
(Ash points at some innocent looking skewers.)
Ash: That looks like liver.
Star: Er… how about that one?
(Star points at another innocent looking pile.)
Ash: That looks like heart.
(Star points at yet another innocent looking pile.)
Ash: I’m not quite sure, but I don’t think you want that either.
Star: So… out of six choices, these three over here seem safe.
Ash: Pretty much.
Star: At least they can’t disguise chicken feet…
At home, Ash munches on his “what you see is what you get” sandwich. Meanwhile, Star prepares to finish her yakitori dinner.
Star: I think I like the chicken meat better than the beef. Those vegetables were definitely Not bamboo though…
Ash: No?
Star: They were kind of sour. I think they may have been onion.
(Ash nods. Star shrugs and takes a big bite of her last chicken yakitori skewer.)
Star: Mmmpth!
Ash: What??
(Star promptly spits the offending chicken onto her plate and stares at it.)
(Silence.)
Ash: What’s wrong?
Star: ................. chicken skin.
That’s right, you heard me. Not chicken with skin. Not even crispy delicious skin. I’m talking slimy, fatty, limp, peeled off the meat, accordion strung, soy-sauce glazed deception on a skewer.
Yuck.
*Yakitori is a well-known Japanese dish consisting of chicken morsels grilled over live coals and glazed with a sweet soy-based sauce. The name literally means “grilled chicken**”, although beef and veggies are known variations.
**I guess when they say chicken, they truly mean chicken… heart, liver, skin and all. Now I try to make sure I’m requesting chicken “meat”, for my own peace of mind. Ah, the joys of having preconceived notions bite you in the rear when least expected.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Saturday, November 26, 2005
A Memorable Moment in Nikko
Eventually, our peaceful solitude came to an end as we returned to civilization. Or rather, civilization caught up with us around 10:00am. The masses came driving up the roads to view the splendor we had just bid farewell to. Have I mentioned the intense satisfaction we experienced clipping down the mountain while, on the other side of the road, half the island was slowly inching up?
While we experienced quite a few memorable moments, the most noteworthy happened near the national park in Nikko. We were witnesses to a landmark event, a sight so rare that it will be passed down from generation to generation amid tremulous voices and misty eyes. I will never forget the morning when, as we waited in line to enter the park, a little Japanese girl ran past, chasing a monkey.
Yes, that’s right. We saw a little girl chasing a monkey. You tell me how often that happens!
With eyes widened in disbelief, we watched the un-caged, wild, and free primate lope across the parking lot while occasionally glancing over his shoulder to assess his persistent pursuer. In turn, the little monkey chaser was toddling just as fast as she could after the object of her affection, a look of pure glee plastered across her face. Within five seconds, they disappeared into a grove of trees.
That was pretty entertaining.
Now, these monkeys are notorious for snatching cameras, purses, and anything else they can get their paws on from park visitors. They’ve even been known to chase some fully grown men around for the chance to swipe something shiny. If you’ve ever watched Animal Kingdom, you know that monkeys can be pretty vicious. Taking all this into account, I decided the strangest part of this whole thing was the absence of a frantic parent pelting after his or her errant child.
I guess monkeys are pretty normal here.
It all happened so fast that we didn’t get a chance to capture this moment on film, video, or any other electronic recording device. Instead, I present an example of the Japanese custom of “parking wherever you darn well please, and tough cookies for all the other cars you’ve obliviously & effectively blocked from getting out again. Especially the cars that had the pomposity to park in designated parking spaces ”. Enjoy!
While we experienced quite a few memorable moments, the most noteworthy happened near the national park in Nikko. We were witnesses to a landmark event, a sight so rare that it will be passed down from generation to generation amid tremulous voices and misty eyes. I will never forget the morning when, as we waited in line to enter the park, a little Japanese girl ran past, chasing a monkey.
Yes, that’s right. We saw a little girl chasing a monkey. You tell me how often that happens!
With eyes widened in disbelief, we watched the un-caged, wild, and free primate lope across the parking lot while occasionally glancing over his shoulder to assess his persistent pursuer. In turn, the little monkey chaser was toddling just as fast as she could after the object of her affection, a look of pure glee plastered across her face. Within five seconds, they disappeared into a grove of trees.
That was pretty entertaining.
Now, these monkeys are notorious for snatching cameras, purses, and anything else they can get their paws on from park visitors. They’ve even been known to chase some fully grown men around for the chance to swipe something shiny. If you’ve ever watched Animal Kingdom, you know that monkeys can be pretty vicious. Taking all this into account, I decided the strangest part of this whole thing was the absence of a frantic parent pelting after his or her errant child.
I guess monkeys are pretty normal here.
It all happened so fast that we didn’t get a chance to capture this moment on film, video, or any other electronic recording device. Instead, I present an example of the Japanese custom of “parking wherever you darn well please, and tough cookies for all the other cars you’ve obliviously & effectively blocked from getting out again. Especially the cars that had the pomposity to park in designated parking spaces ”. Enjoy!
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Pension Ho!
This was the sweet sweet sight that unfolded before us around 3:00pm Saturday afternoon. After nine hours of traversing the countryside (which was actually easier than you might think despite the language barrier), we had arrived at our haven for the night.
Welcome to Pechika!
Looks cozy doesn’t it? Well, I can tell you it WAS! The dinner they served us was delectable (tender melt-in-your-mouth fish that didn’t taste like fish at all steamed in a white wine sauce, yum!), the Japanese-style bath could be turned into a private one (there’s nothing quite like soaking weary bones in crystalline, steamy hot water without worrying about strangers sauntering in to share the space), and the innkeepers were both friendly & seemingly impressed by our stuttering attempts to communicate in their native tongue.
I’d also like to extend my admiration to our innkeepers in the area of cleanliness. This place was seriously spotless, from the dining area to the dorm-style restrooms. There wasn’t a speck of dust or grime anywhere. Having kept house here on the island these past few months, I know what an amazing accomplishment this is.
Final Impression: Well worth another visit.
Warm, comfortable, and satiated, we rested for the much anticipated day ahead of us.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Navigator vs. Sandman
I fought the good fight. In truth, it took a devastating amount of internal strength & fortitude as I battled my nemesis of old. I struggled for the sake of family, for their safety, for their sanity. In this case, “family” means my husband, and “nemesis” means the silent stalker that has pounded my consciousness into oblivion time and time again- motion-induced slumber.
I fall asleep at the drop of a hat whenever I am in a car speeding towards a destination farther away than a half hour. And no, it doesn’t necessarily matter if I’m driving or not, the inescapable urge remains.
This weakness of mine does nothing to help my husband as he valiantly sits behind the wheel, dodging death traps and mentally calculating how far we’ve gone, how far we need to go, and wondering how he’s supposed to stay awake with his wife zonked out beside him. The void my consciousness leaves inevitably tempts his alert mind to shut down as well.
In laymen’s terms, he gets sleepy.
Unlike other road trips I could mention, I could not afford to drift into the Sands of Doze. I was on a mission. I had obligations and knee-shaking amounts of responsibility.
I was the Navigator.
Armed with only a sketchy compass and a linguistically incomprehensible road map, my duty was three-fold:
1. Keep my driver awake & relatively cheerful (dodging death traps is hard work!).
2. Track our progress across the country to make sure we didn’t take a wrong turn somewhere and waste oodles of precious, precious time.
3. Keep our vehicle on course as we wound our way through the inevitable twists & turns we would encounter between our starting point & destination.
Fortunately, driving through vast, lonely emptiness doesn’t exist on an island that crams more people into smaller spaces than sardines in a can. This robbed my foe of its main weapon- visual boredom. I’d also like to thank a major contributor to our sleepless voyage- Mr. iPod and his cohort, Clickity Tape Deck Adaptor. You rock.
In the end, it was well worth the effort… some of the English names we saw for various businesses were classic.
It doesn’t get much better than “Wonder Goo”, although “Cow Cow” does come close. Would anyone like to wager a guess on what either of these respective establishments actually sells? I eagerly await your comments.
Our maiden voyage would soon come to an end.
I fall asleep at the drop of a hat whenever I am in a car speeding towards a destination farther away than a half hour. And no, it doesn’t necessarily matter if I’m driving or not, the inescapable urge remains.
This weakness of mine does nothing to help my husband as he valiantly sits behind the wheel, dodging death traps and mentally calculating how far we’ve gone, how far we need to go, and wondering how he’s supposed to stay awake with his wife zonked out beside him. The void my consciousness leaves inevitably tempts his alert mind to shut down as well.
In laymen’s terms, he gets sleepy.
Unlike other road trips I could mention, I could not afford to drift into the Sands of Doze. I was on a mission. I had obligations and knee-shaking amounts of responsibility.
I was the Navigator.
Armed with only a sketchy compass and a linguistically incomprehensible road map, my duty was three-fold:
1. Keep my driver awake & relatively cheerful (dodging death traps is hard work!).
2. Track our progress across the country to make sure we didn’t take a wrong turn somewhere and waste oodles of precious, precious time.
3. Keep our vehicle on course as we wound our way through the inevitable twists & turns we would encounter between our starting point & destination.
Fortunately, driving through vast, lonely emptiness doesn’t exist on an island that crams more people into smaller spaces than sardines in a can. This robbed my foe of its main weapon- visual boredom. I’d also like to thank a major contributor to our sleepless voyage- Mr. iPod and his cohort, Clickity Tape Deck Adaptor. You rock.
In the end, it was well worth the effort… some of the English names we saw for various businesses were classic.
It doesn’t get much better than “Wonder Goo”, although “Cow Cow” does come close. Would anyone like to wager a guess on what either of these respective establishments actually sells? I eagerly await your comments.
Our maiden voyage would soon come to an end.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
We ARE Going... Aren't We?
The timing was right… the last weekend in October. Steep mountain slopes at high elevation combined with frigid night temperatures promised a wealth of color to the autumn traveler. October weekends were normally sunny and pleasant. This prospective excursion provided an opportunity to enjoy famous Japanese hospitality at a ryokan. Oh yes, the timing was right for us…
… and the fifty bazillion other tourists and vacationers who overrun the quaint town of Nikko during the fall season, for the specific purpose of seeing the leaves turn along Iroha-zaka Road and Lake Chuzenji.
Phooey.
We soon found that the other tourists had a couple distinct advantages over us:
1. Most of them were Japanese.
2. Uh, most of them were Japanese.
This immediately gave them the upper hand, since most of the information about lodging (and anything remotely helpful regarding how to plan for such a trip) on the web was in Japanese. Plus, trying to reserve a room was not exactly English-friendly.
We decided that most of the tourists at famous sites in Japan are actually *from* Japan. Out-of-country tourists seem to go through a travel agency, bypassing communication difficulties altogether. Those of us in the “Long-term tourist” category tend rely on friends and co-workers to help us along the way.
Which is exactly what we did. We are blessed to have a friend here in Japan who also happens to be a member of our church back home. He’s given us incredible support and served as an excellent translator as we navigated through the bureaucratic nightmares of “signing up for a keitai (cell phone)” and “buying a vehicle” (deciphering the technicalities of services and legal hoo-haw is bad enough in your own language, while trying to do the same in a different one reaches the heights of “near impossible”).
After he called around, our friend informed us of some… let’s call them snags… in our game plan. First, none of the ryokans had any openings- they’re normally booked 6 months in advance. Second, although there was a western-style room we could reserve, the price was 13,000 Y per person. Per Person. Ouch. There was no way our modest budget could handle a $260 hit from lodging alone. Lastly, we could expect massive, frustrating crowds of people, which meant the traffic up Iroha-zaka Road equated to hours of sitting in our car enviously watching turtles speed along, leaving us in their dust.
Deflated, we decided we would simply have to put our travel plans on hold…
…which gave Ash’s fellow teachers a chance to shine :) After hearing his tale of woe, they sprung into action: *internet search* *a couple telephone calls* *price checks* *alternative routes to avoid traffic* .
As it turned out, we gaijin travelers (determined to escape the drudgery of another weekend at home) had some advantages of our own…
1. We didn’t mind an initially longer drive around to the backside of the mountains.
2. We didn’t care about breaking the status quo- i.e., being more than willing to ignore the “proper” morning schedule (such as being tied down to a set breakfast time).
3. We most certainly didn’t care about spending the night in Nikko “proper”. (I guess some like to say that they've actually stayed in the town of Nikko.)
Final Plans:
Saturday- Drive along the main roads (avoiding the hideously expensive yet time-saving highways) following a non-English map & the accompanying road signs around the backside of the mountains before ascending them & staying at an off-season lodge within our price range.
Sunday- Get up before daybreak and crest the top of Iroha-zaka Road by 6:00am. Drive down leisurely (along with many exploratory and photographic stops), bypassing the traffic going *up* the mountain. Finally, get the heck outta dodge before the sea of cars decide they want to go *down* the mountain. Navigate the return drive, hopefully in enough time for my husband to get a good night’s sleep before going to work in the morning.
Now THAT’S a recipe for success if I ever heard one!
… and the fifty bazillion other tourists and vacationers who overrun the quaint town of Nikko during the fall season, for the specific purpose of seeing the leaves turn along Iroha-zaka Road and Lake Chuzenji.
Phooey.
We soon found that the other tourists had a couple distinct advantages over us:
1. Most of them were Japanese.
2. Uh, most of them were Japanese.
This immediately gave them the upper hand, since most of the information about lodging (and anything remotely helpful regarding how to plan for such a trip) on the web was in Japanese. Plus, trying to reserve a room was not exactly English-friendly.
We decided that most of the tourists at famous sites in Japan are actually *from* Japan. Out-of-country tourists seem to go through a travel agency, bypassing communication difficulties altogether. Those of us in the “Long-term tourist” category tend rely on friends and co-workers to help us along the way.
Which is exactly what we did. We are blessed to have a friend here in Japan who also happens to be a member of our church back home. He’s given us incredible support and served as an excellent translator as we navigated through the bureaucratic nightmares of “signing up for a keitai (cell phone)” and “buying a vehicle” (deciphering the technicalities of services and legal hoo-haw is bad enough in your own language, while trying to do the same in a different one reaches the heights of “near impossible”).
After he called around, our friend informed us of some… let’s call them snags… in our game plan. First, none of the ryokans had any openings- they’re normally booked 6 months in advance. Second, although there was a western-style room we could reserve, the price was 13,000 Y per person. Per Person. Ouch. There was no way our modest budget could handle a $260 hit from lodging alone. Lastly, we could expect massive, frustrating crowds of people, which meant the traffic up Iroha-zaka Road equated to hours of sitting in our car enviously watching turtles speed along, leaving us in their dust.
Deflated, we decided we would simply have to put our travel plans on hold…
…which gave Ash’s fellow teachers a chance to shine :) After hearing his tale of woe, they sprung into action: *internet search* *a couple telephone calls* *price checks* *alternative routes to avoid traffic* .
As it turned out, we gaijin travelers (determined to escape the drudgery of another weekend at home) had some advantages of our own…
1. We didn’t mind an initially longer drive around to the backside of the mountains.
2. We didn’t care about breaking the status quo- i.e., being more than willing to ignore the “proper” morning schedule (such as being tied down to a set breakfast time).
3. We most certainly didn’t care about spending the night in Nikko “proper”. (I guess some like to say that they've actually stayed in the town of Nikko.)
Final Plans:
Saturday- Drive along the main roads (avoiding the hideously expensive yet time-saving highways) following a non-English map & the accompanying road signs around the backside of the mountains before ascending them & staying at an off-season lodge within our price range.
Sunday- Get up before daybreak and crest the top of Iroha-zaka Road by 6:00am. Drive down leisurely (along with many exploratory and photographic stops), bypassing the traffic going *up* the mountain. Finally, get the heck outta dodge before the sea of cars decide they want to go *down* the mountain. Navigate the return drive, hopefully in enough time for my husband to get a good night’s sleep before going to work in the morning.
Now THAT’S a recipe for success if I ever heard one!
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