冬 – Winter

 Kami-Daigo

Thus far, Kyoto’s clearly marked seasons have been a delight. However, I have some mixed feelings about the third season I have experienced here – winter.

dead water lillies at Daikakuji

 

It’s 6:30ish in the morning when my alarm rudely awakens me, and an unpleasant reality hits me in the face. Samui, I think to myself as I drowsily roll over, hoping it isn’t real. (Yes I talk to myself in Japanese sometimes). I feel my cheeks and nose – cold. I feel the floor beside me – cold. I exhale and see a cloud of breath in the morning light – cold. Ugh I don’t want to get out of bed. So I switch on the space-heater a few inches away and snooze for another 20 minutes, delaying reality for just a little longer.

 

Kami-Daigo

 

寒い (samui) – cold

 

It’s cold. As a SoCal native, the idea of winter actually being cold is a bit new to me. “It doesn’t sound that bad,” I said as I looked at the typical winter averages – between 35 and 45 degrees Fahrenheit. “Just wait,” my friends reassured me, “you’ll understand in February.” It’s February. I think I understand now.

 

It’s shortly before 7ish in the morning when I brave to enter the hallway from my single, now slightly less cold room. I open the door and shiver. I quickly flip on the heater in the bathroom as I grab some clothes from the closet. Are they still wet? No way, they’ve been hanging up to dry for like a week now. Maybe my hands are just numb. I pull a thermal over my head with a look of disgust on my face to match my unsightly morning hairdo. The damp-cold fabric makes me wish I hadn’t. Hastily I complete the outfit, hoping to achieve a bit of warmth.

 

even the scarecrows seem to shiver

It doesn’t snow much in Kyoto. The day-time temperature is rarely below freezing. It’s certainly no polar vortex. But there’s something a bit unique about Kyoto’s winter. It’s the humidity. Kyoto has a relatively high ground-water level – attributing to the historic sake industry and the countless scenic rivers and canals cutting through the city. But the buzz and the beauty come with a cost. The moist, cold air seems to seep up from the ground. It hovers about like a damp blanket, penetrating clothes and skin, then comes to settle in little puddles of water on my windowsill every morning. On the inside of my windowsill. Oh ya, and it’s cold inside too. Most Japanese buildings don’t have central heating. So going to the bathroom, whether it’s in my tiny apartment or down the hallway at school, is always a bit exotic – in the arctic adventure sense of the word.

 

It’s about 8ish in the morning when I’m well fed, warmed, and ready to go. Jacket? Check. Gloves? Check. Scarf? Check. Snacks? Check. I lock the door behind me and walk downstairs to the bicycle garage. I mount my granny bike, allowing a good volcanic cloud of breath to erupt from my mouth before I push off into the street. The stinging air on my face wipes any lingering residues of sleepiness from my eyes. As I push onward, the blood circulating my body spreads the warmth and energy of my morning green tea. I turn the corner and take a deep breath as the eastern mountains come into sight. Wispy clouds roll over the peak and hover down into shadowy valleys as they flee the evading morning light now cresting the summit. A thin layer of snow coats the tips of wintry pines still hiding in the shade. And it’s beautiful. My eyes widen as I start to smile, pedaling onward to another day at work.

 

The eastern mountains with a snowy farm in Ishida (my town)

雪 (yuki) – snow

 

As I mentioned, it doesn’t snow much in Kyoto these days, even less often than it used it. From a few older Kyoto natives I work with, I’ve learned that this is commonly attributed to global climate change. But there have been a few mornings where I’ve been blessed with this rare treasure, and it has been beautiful beyond expression.

 

It’s like 9ish or something on a Saturday morning when I finally get out of bed. Yes, it’s still cold. I roll over and throw open the shades. Woah! My balcony has a good inch of fluffy white snow on it, and the power lines outside my window are all iced over. My excitement begins to bubble as I text all my friends. “Let’s go to Kinkakuji!” Kyoto’s legendary golden pavilion is most famous when covered in snow. But I start to panic a bit as I notice how quickly the fresh snow has melted on the sunny banks of my local river. The friends are busy anyway. Bust. But as I look eastward inspiration strikes. Yes, that’s it. I quickly make a PBJ before lacing up my hiking boots and pedaling off to the base of the eastern mountains. About a ten minute walk from my apartment lies Daigo-ji, a World Heritage site constructed in the 8^th century. And above that, somewhere near the summit, is the legendary Kami-Daigo – an ancient temple complex nestled in the mountains. Snow crunches under my boots as I step through the stone tori gate at the base of the mountain hike, beginning my morning adventure.

entrance to the Kami-Daigo hike

Narnia? Still Kami-Daigo.

Winter is long. Winter is cold. It’s hard to find motivation to go to work in the morning. It’s hard to dry my laundry. It’s kinda a bust sometimes. But even winter – certainly my most challenging season yet, when loneliness and cultural fatigue have grown heavy with the gloomy skies – has its store of treasures. The delight of a steamy bowl of ramen on a cold night. The sensation of my toes thawing under the kotatsu (low heated table) at my pastor’s house. The exhilaration of watching snowflakes whimsically flutter through the crisp air.

wintry view of Otsu, Lake Biwa (southern tip of Japan’s largest lake).

It’s 8PMish on a Friday night. We’re shivering outside of a scummy dump in Osaka. A van-full of us had been driving for several hours on an almost failed mission. With numb fingers I clumsily unload boxes of bentos and instant miso-soup onto a cold plastic table. A small crowd of grungy men emerge from the shadows cast by the trash-can fires to form a polite line before us. One by one, we hand out steaming cups of soup and home-made bento meals until the table is empty again. And I smile. I’m blessed. Who am I to complain about winter? I’m blessed.

nabe party at the pastor’s house

Christmas in Kyoto, New Years in Tokyo

I can’t believe it’s 2014. Crazy talk. This holiday season has certainly been the most interesting one I have ever experienced. Allow me to try to figure it out myself as I explain it to you.

Kobe Illuminare

Christmas in Kyoto

This was the first Christmas I have ever spent away from my family in Yorba Linda. Was it hard? I think so, but I was pretty distracted trying to figure out just what the heck was going on around here. Christmas in Japan is different. Very different. But interesting. Here’s how.

Arashiyama bamboo forest light up

Happy Halloween and Merry Christmas

I kid you not, on the night of Halloween I was walking to my Japanese class in Uji City when I passed by a store window to find, not Halloween decorations, but a woman decorating a Christmas tree. Huh? By November 1 Christmas lights were sparking to life in stores all across the city. In America I often complained about how Christmas was threatening to take over my favorite holiday of Thanksgiving (I like to eat). Well in Japan I have seen what happens when that Thanksgiving buffer isn’t there. Christmas season was a solid two months long.

Will you be my Christmas Valentine?

Despite a frighteningly plunging birth rate, and an apparently shy and reserved culture, romance is huge in Japan. The second most common question I have been asked by Japanese people is “Do you have a girlfriend?” (number 1 is “How tall are you?”). So Christmas is a couple’s holiday. Actually Christmas Day isn’t really a thing here, so it’s just Christmas Eve. Hand-in-hand, all the young Japanese couples take to the streets to shop, flirt, eat, and shop. They score bonus cuteness points if the girlfriend wears reindeer ears or a santa-skirt-outfit-thing. And gifts? Sorry mom and dad, but the gf or bf takes precedence. Man, I thought one Singles Awareness day was enough.

Our teacher band performing at the end of the year party. Note the two examples santa-skirt-outfit-things.

KFC

Guess who’s the favorite chef around on Christmas Eve? It’s not your mamma. That’s right, it’s Colonel Sanders. I have no idea why, but Kentucky Fried Chicken is the most popular restaurant in Japan on Christmas Eve. People will make reservations hours in advance for a bucket of the Colonel’s fried chicken. The best explanation I’ve heard is that Japanese people think Americans eat chicken on Christmas. Christmas is an American holiday, therefore KFC is the perfect Christmas dinner. Right? I don’t get it. My students were completely shocked when I told them that in America nobody eats KFC on Christmas. But they probably still lined up for it anyway.

gingerbread cookies I made with my English Club students

Happy Holidays? Nope.

I really wasn’t expecting Christmas to be such a big deal here, considering less than 1% of the population identifies as Christian. Even more interesting, however, was the complete absence of the whole “Happy Holidays” controversy. In America, like everything else, Christmas too has become a political debate. Somehow saying “Merry Christmas” isn’t politically correct anymore. (What the heck does “politically correct” mean anyway?). Well in Japan, it was “Merry Christmas” all the way – from small talk to storefronts to the mammoth Christmas tree in Kyoto Station. I even taught an explicitly Christmas lesson to all my students. We played Christmas Jeopardy, and one of the categories I made was “the Real Christmas”, where every question was about Jesus. In public high school! And nobody had any issue with this.

Kyoto Station Christmas tree

In one perspective, this seems really awesome, as if there were greater freedom of worship in Japan than the “Land of the Free”. However, the truth behind the matter is a bit more disheartening. In America, it is troubling how commercialism has been conquering Christmas, how Santa and presents have become a bigger deal than celebrating Emanuel – God with us. In Japan, commercialism hasn’t conquered Christmas. Santa hasn’t become a bigger deal than Jesus. The truth is, the Japanese don’t know Jesus. So Christmas, therefore, has always been about commercialism. That’s why it starts on Halloween, that’s why it’s a cutesy couple’s day, that’s way even KFC is raking in the cash. If only this beloved nation could celebrate the greatest treasure ever known – an almighty God that would choose to leave His throne to walk this Earth, to teach us, to suffer for us, and to die for us. What can compare?

And me?

Shoot, I love Jesus. It was a remarkable thing being able to celebrate our Savior’s birth in a nation that doesn’t know Him. In America, Christmas was often an emotionally confusing time for me, as I found myself struggling to enjoy the decorations, the music, the shopping and all the hype. Somehow, all the stuff that once seemed like a distraction from the true meaning of Christmas was a beautiful reminder of my home country and culture. I played Christmas Jeopardy with all my classes, made gingerbread cookies and watched Home Alone with my English Club, wrote Christmas Cards to my English Club students, gave gifts to a few teachers, and even played guitar and sang Christmas songs at two different Christmas parties. Best of all, I got to go to a small but sweet Christmas Eve service at my church, and co-plan a youth Christmas party on the night of Christmas Day. It was awesome.

New Years in Tokyo

view of Mt. Fuji from the shinkansen

On December 29, the shinkansen, Japan’s futuristic bullet train, carried me from Kyoto to Tokyo in less than two and a half hours. I stepped out of the maze of Tokyo station into the wildest urban jungle I have ever seen. Tokyo is nuts. It’s huge, it’s vertical, it’s from the future, and it’s full of people. It’s hard to describe it much better than that. Exploring this incredible city for four days was quite the adventure. I oogled at the bizarre fashions of Harajuku, watched dense crowds navigate the Shibuya scramble, got lost in Shinjuku station (the busiest train station in the world), saw Tokyo Tower and Tokyo Sky Tree, enjoyed incredible views from a skyscraper in Roppongi Hills, and ate lots of good food. I was also blessed with seeing some Bruin friends. Airin, who’s family generously hosted me, was a classmate and close friend, Sho was a buddy from Bridges two years ago, Carrie was a co-worker at my athletics-tutoring gig, and Quinn was a sister in Christ from UCLA Cru. Bruin diaspora!

catching up with Airin and Sho at an izakaya. Airin took some artistic liberties with the photo.

The Shibuya scramble

Tokyo Sky Tree

Tokyo’s urban jungle sprawling from Roppongi Hills. Tokyo Sky Tree is on the horizon on the left, Tokyo Tower is the red one on the right.

New Years is a huge family holiday in Japan, so it was a tremendous blessing to share it with family in Christ. The hospitality Airin’s family showed me was incredible. Plus, we got to extend that blessing to my friend Carrie and two of her current Bruin co-workers (actually one was a Trojan but let’s not dwell on that. We still showed her Bruin love). We ate some amazing nabe (Japanese hot-pot) in their traditional tatami room, then went downstairs to play jenga and watch the famous Japanese New-Years count-down TV show. It was captivating. Every big J-pop star was there to belt out their top hits of the year and show off their crazy fashion. Shortly before midnight we began working on our calligraphy – another cherished holiday tradition. Calligraphy is an incredible art-form that takes many years of practice, but after three hours I was quite satisfied with my creation.

New Years Eve family

平常心(Heijoushin) – a samurai word meaning something like sound mind and spirit, no fear, and total confidence. Pretty boss.

Shortly after midnight I went on to the roof to look out over Tokyo. What I witnessed in the chilly winter air is clearly documented in my memory. No fireworks, no flashing lights, no shouts and cheers, almost no sound at all save for one – the steady and ominous toll of a temple bell. It was a sound reminder of my reality. 2014 is a crazy year – a year spent living and serving in Japan, this nation that I have truly come to love and long for. Pray for Japan.

落葉 (rakuyo): Fallen Leaves.

I realized that in my busyness I have neglected to write about the stunning Kyoto Autumn. That’s a shame. Now that I’m chillin on winter vacation, allow me to fill you in.

This was my first true autumn experience, and Kyoto has proven to be a great place for firsts. It was out of this world beautiful.

Around late October the punishing summer heat finally began to give way as we anticipated the promised beauty of autumn. Those days of warm but cooler weather were a short-lived delight. Within a matter of two weeks, the constant sweat on my skin was replaced with goose-bumps. But I didn’t mind too much, because something magical was stirring in the city. In early November, some new colors began to dot the scenery. It was a subtle change, like a slight blemish in the surrounding mountains. Slowly but surely, many of Kyoto’s trees began to transform into a mirage of green, yellow, orange, and red.

“Just wait,” I was told as I was getting giddy over the yellow-orange leaves of the front-runners. “Just wait for the maple leaves.” The autumn beauty of most of Kyoto’s tress is short-lived, but thankfully they tend to take turns in different places across the city. Every weekend I was on my bike exploring a new part of the city to marvel at the beauty of the leaves.

Many of the city’s more famous temples also have night light-up festivals, where wide-eyed crowds can soak in the brilliantly lit leaves. I was fortunate to hit two of the best light-ups in the city: Kiyomizu and Daigoji. Oh I wish my iPhone camera could attest to the stunning beauty. 

 

The grand-finale is always a peak weekend or two in the end of November, when a majority of the maple leaves are in full glory. Like fire on dry kindling, the maple trees erupt into a brilliant red in a matter of days. I caught word of a temple called Eikando with legendary koyo (autumn leaves), so on the Saturday after Thanksgiving I biked across a mountain pass into Northeastern Kyoto city to see for myself. It was unreal.

I felt like I was walking through a fairytale. Never before had I seen such naturally brilliant colors. I often complain about how I wish my camera could accurately capture the beauty of what I was seeing, but here I felt like my own eyes couldn’t even do that. It was beyond words.

After losing track of time in the magic of the leaves, I finally hopped back on my bike and floated home with a feeling like I had just witnessed something supernatural.

 

Then there’s the fall: 落葉 Rakuyo.

After that peak weekend came the wind and the rain, and the beauty in the air was now scattered all over the ground. Mossy grounds donned a new coat, peaceful garden ponds became floating displays of color, and even ordinary sidewalks became beautiful mirages that would flourish in the wake of passing bicycles.

Now it’s late December. The naked trees seem to shiver in the bitter wind without the shelter of the coats they had shed, and the beautiful leaves that only weeks ago had coated everything are now brown and crunchy. And it’s cold. Really cold. Like the trees, the people in the city are locking in for a long winter. But also like the trees, we are anticipating what is to come next: sakura season. Until then, it’s time to enjoy a new season for me – real winter – and all its new adventures that are to be found.

For the Long Haul

Today I finished my first full bottle of soy sauce. This calls for a time of reflection. Hence, another blog post.

 rainy view of Uji from classroom window. Plenty of rain this season.

I’ve been living in Kyoto for over three months now, and I can’t tell if time is becoming easier or harder to understand. Yet one thing is certainly becoming more clear – I’m not going back to UCLA in the fall. Speaking of fall, oh my goodness Kyoto is gorgeous.

 こよ – autumn leaves

I’m sure that my situation is not unique in saying this: but I miss college. This is something my other friends out here and I often discuss. It was such a magical time that can’t really be reproduced – the late nights in the library, the late nights playing video games with the roomies, the late nights up to all sorts of shenanegans. Now, in my lonely apartment, I have to be in bed by 11PM and wake up early for work 5 days a week. What’s most daunting is the thought of the future, not that I think about it much now either (perhaps some things never change). What I’m getting at is that there’s no more “next quarter” or “next year” and the beautiful simplicity of short-term goals. The path ahead is through wide open terrain, and I’ve stepped into the adult-world of trailblazing.

 

Heading home

Such contemplation has often led me to the question of home. Where is home? For the first 18 year of my life the answer was simple. Then it got a bit confusing when UCLA became so much like a home to me. Now the former answer is across an ocean and the latter has banished me via diploma. In that regard, why not run off to a new country? I am learning much patience as Kyoto slowly becomes my new home. “Home” for me, as I’m coming to realize, has very much to do with purpose. I’m grateful for a clear purpose here as a teacher and an ambassador of Christ, but the patience is necessary for the second major aspect of “home” for me – people. Home has family. I’m making friends at work and at church and through my program and elsewhere, but relationships take work, and I need patience through the process of learning to love these new friends like family. That takes time. Language and cultural barriers make quite the added challenge as well.

 My lonely apartment. JK. Daigoji – a 1,139 year old pagoda. But only a ten minute bike ride from my lonely apartment!

So I miss you guys. But the weirdest thing is that you don’t feel any further away. Maybe it’s because I just can’t grasp the distance, or maybe it’s because I’ve been learning what “home” really is. In the epic “hall of faith” chapter of Hebrews, the author says that these legends of faith “were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” (Hebrews 11:13-16). Such a rad passage, and I’ve been finding so much comfort in this promise. We are eternal creatures, made for our true home with our maker, where our family and purpose and everything is perfect forever. The Kingdom is our home, and we have been given the honor of being ambassadors of our true country. So perhaps we are all heading home, for the place our hearts were made to desire. The road is long, but the journey is quite the adventure. For the time being, I’m pretty stoked be trailblazing out here in Kyoto. There’s no shortage of delightful discoveries.

ニヶ月間 – 2 months

Today marks the two-month point of my time in Japan. On the evening of July 28, groggy with jet-lag and giddy with excitement, I landed at Tokyo’s Narita International Airport, where my adventure began. It’s good for me to sit back from time to time and try to comprehend what in the world is going on in my life, and to ask myself the not-so-simple question of “how’s it been?” So, how’s it been? It’s been… well, it’s been a lot of things.

 

It’s been fun.

Ya, the good times have been rolling. I can’t even remember all the cool things I’ve been able to see and experience thus far. Just about every weekend I’ll meet up with my friends and we’ll go do something awesome. Sometimes we’ll hop on a train or a bus to explore some new part of the city.

 

Monkeying around in Arashiyama

Nothing says “fun” like cucumber on a stick. 

 

Sometimes we’ll end up half lost in a forest. But that usually works out quite well too.

Arashiyama bamboo forest

Uji City peeking out over the tree line

forest bridge in Ohara

 peaceful waterfall in Ohara

 

Sometimes we’ll go out to dinner for some delicious Japanese food and attempt a nihongo dake dinner (Japanese only). I can only imagine what the Nihonjin next to us think as they listen in on a group of foreigners loudly fumbling with their language through frequent interruptions of laughter.

おいしいかたですよ!

 

Or sometimes we’ll just grab food from a konbini (convenience store) and chill by a river.

Sunset by the Kamo River

Uji Bridge several days after the typhoon

 

moonrise by the Uji River

 

It’s been fascinating.

It’s a peculiar thing moving to a place where everything is new, and my 22 years of American socialization holds little value. My knowledge of Japanese history and culture is severely limited, so I may as well have been living on a different planet for the past two months. Everything is so different – the crossing guard man that bows to you every time you bike past him; the free pack of curry that came with my iPhone; the robotic public toilets that make fake flushing noises when you push the wrong button (courtesy is key); the little fairies on my official bank ATM card… There’s no shortage of things that remind me I’m not in California anymore. But I love every delightful surprise that comes my way, and I’m learning to appreciate how stunningly beautiful this country and these people are.

Nijo Castle gardens

Arashiyama train station

 rain on an Arashiyama graveyard

fushimi inari tori minis

 too tall for this country, no matter what century

Just crossing the street toward the Toji farmer’s market. Yes, the market was here. 

 My newest wall decoration, courtesy of Toji market

 Ohara gardens

Ohara koi pond

statuettes for days

 Chillin with the Ohara locals. I think I was underdressed.

Your guess is as good as mine

 

It’s been challenging.

Sometimes I am asked if I have experienced culture shock in Japan. To be honest, I don’t really know what that is. The culture is undeniably different, and quite often I feel like I have no idea what’s going on. In these circumstances, I find that I am presented with two choices. One is to freak out and claim culture shock. The other is to learn and grow from these challenges. But learning is a long, long process. Through this, God has certainly been growing me in patience, an area that I have always been weak in. I wish I could read my mail. I wish I could meet my neighbors. I wish could laugh at the jokes my co-workers exchange during lunch break. I wish I could have understood the evacuation warnings that woke me up during the recent typhoon. I wish I could have said something to comfort my student whose house was severely flooded. But I can’t. At least not yet. With time and God’s provision, maybe eventually this will change. For now, I need patience. Yet I am finding joy in the little victories and the progress they bring. I am confident that the Lord does not present us with trials we are not equipped to face. Through the trials of life in Japan, I have the assurance that He will grow me and shape me and make me more like the man He has designed me to become. My faith is in Him, because He is always God and never not. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”  –James 1:2-4.

 

It’s been good. 

Ya. It’s been good.

Big Man on Campus

Life in a Japanese High School: Part 1

A new school year has begun! Well, not really. In Japan, the school year actually begins in April and ends in March. So really I’m just jumping into the middle of things, but anyway, a new semester has begun, which means I’m actually a teacher now. It’s been pretty rad so far, and definitely a new adventure.

Panorama of Kyoto City. Completely irrelevant, but still pretty cool.

We’re about three weeks in to fall semester, and I’m adjusting quite well to life in high school again: early mornings, drowsy afternoons, after-school club activities, and trying to get to bed before midnight to do it all again the next day. Not having homework this time around is a huge bonus though. I actually have a pretty cool work schedule, albeit a bit unorthodox for the average teaching gig. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I ride my bike to my base school in Fushimi (southern Kyoto city), and on Tuesdays and Thursdays I catch a ride to my visit school in Uji (south of Kyoto). It’s a nice change of scenery each day, with each school having its unique vibe, but it also means I have twice as many faces to remember. It’s taken a bit of getting used to, but I feel that I’ve settled into a good rhythm now, at least enough so that I can present a report on life in a Japanese high school. Believe me, it’s quite different than in the States.

 

1)   Uniforms

I know that many private schools in the US require uniforms, but I was a public school kid. Public school for life! I’m happy to say that both schools I teach at now are also public schools, but the Japanese custom of school uniforms gives it a formal private school feel. For the guys, it’s matching slacks and white button-ups. For the girls, matching plaid skirts with the high socks, and a white blouse with either a tie or a bow. To be honest, having all of my students wear the same clothes doesn’t help with my struggle to remember their names. But I still think the whole uniform thing is pretty classy.

Slippers: another very Japanese thing. It’s customary in Japan to remove your shoes before entering a home. School is no different. Every school has an entryway with lockers where students and teachers alike remove their outdoor shoes and put on their indoor slippers. Luckily I came prepared, because I look like a little princess trying to prance around in the tiny green guest slippers available at the school. Maybe “little” isn’t the right word. Anyway, it’s pretty boss strolling through the hallways with my comfy Made-in-‘Murica sandals. Livin the dream.

 

2)   Teacher rotations

Remember high school? For us Californians, it meant walking from building to building across a sunny, open-air campus, hoping that you had class with your friends. Due to Kyoto’s dramatic climate, schools here are typically one building with multiple stories, probably similar to schools in the Mid-West. More interesting, however, is that students don’t change classrooms. In American high schools, teachers set up shop in their classroom, where they command authority from their desk-shaped throne. In Japan, the students are king of the classroom. All the teachers have their desks in the teachers’ room, while the students have their own desks in their homeroom classrooms. They sit at the same desk all day as different teachers rotate through to teach their respective subject. Sounds a bit confining, but the students seem to enjoy having their own space, and they probably get to know the 40 kids they share that room with quite well. Each class has a designated homeroom teacher that is somewhat the authority figure (often more like a parent) over that group of students. My situation is a bit different. I get to commandeer the Language Lab (LL) room, where I have taught all my lessons thus far. So the students come to me. I think they enjoy the change of scenery. Then a good, I could be mistaking their “enjoyment” with bewildered intrigue over the giant American in the front of the classroom. Did I mention I stand out?

LL Room at my base school.

LL Room at my visit school. Welcome to Johnny Sensei’s wonderful world of English.

A day in the life.

Like I said, my schedule is pretty rad. Every morning I show up to school around 8am to take care of some business before the daily teachers meeting at 8:30. Yes it’s in Japanese. No I don’t understand any of it. But I smile and nod like the rest.

A rare peek at an empty teacher’s room. 

I typically only teach 2 to 3 lessons throughout the day, so I spend a lot of time at my desk in the teacher’s room lesson-planning or working on various little projects. At first, I was a bit intimidated by the task of planning all my own lessons, having never been a real teacher before. But over the past month I’ve designed a curriculum for the first two semesters and I’m slowly churning out some half-decent lessons that the students seem to be enjoying thus far. I only teach the freshmen, but I teach all of them, yes all of them, at both of my schools. I see each class on a two-week cycle, so I’ll teach each lesson I prepare 17 times before moving on to the next. So if my lesson sucks, I’m the one that hates it the most. That being said, I do put a lot of work into these plans, and I often get quite antsy at my desk, so I’m always eager for any chance I get to do something else around school.

My desk in the teacher’s room. Aka the creation station.

One such opportunity is the afternoon school club activities. I head up the English club at my base school, where I have the privilege of shepherding all 3 of my devoted members during our after-school meetings three days a week. English is hard, so I don’t blame the other 1000ish students that have found something better to do. To be fair, they have some pretty sweet options, like kendo, tea ceremony club, calligraphy club, and a hodgepodge of sports. For the record, the men’s volleyball team at my base school has 4 guys. 1 team, 4 guys. But they’re chill, I’ve gotten to play with them a bit. If only we had enough people to actually play a game…

The second opportunity to get out of the teachers room and chat with some students comes during cleaning time. Which brings me to point of difference number 3.

 

3)   Cleaning time

Why hire janitors when you have about 1000 able-bodied students? I think they’re on to something here. Every day after lunch at my visit school, they strike up the school anthem on the PA system as the students report to their cleaning stations. For about ten minutes the teachers supervise as all the students clean their portion of the campus. They usually finish early, and enjoy a nice break as the school anthem gives way to some good ol J-pop blasting through the hallways. I always have a good time walking around and chatting with different students each day. Some of these kids are really funny as they try to entertain me with their limited English. Or maybe it’s the random foreign dude strolling the hallways that’s the real entertainment…

 

4)   Cultural Festival

Speaking of entertainment… For a month or so every year, the entire high school system of Japan shifts into Cultural Festival mode. Cultural Festival is that delightful time of the new Fall Semester where the entire school shuts down for 2-3 days for an epic festival that has been months in making. Each class spends countless hours preparing for their performances. For the ichinensei (Freshmen), it was a video project. For ninensei (second years), a live dance performance. And for sanensei (third-years/seniors), a student-written and produced drama in the school’s auditorium. Oh ya, high school in Japan is only three years. On top of that, many of the other clubs, such as tea ceremony, calligraphy, and folk-rock club will prepare some beautiful performances as well. For the students, it’s a lot work through all the preparations, but also a lot of fun. For most of the teachers, it’s a lot of work making sure all their students are on top of those preparations, but also a lot fun. For me, it’s a lot of fun. I got to cruise around and enjoy the impressive dance spectacles and student dramas, laugh at the goofy videos my ichinensei students came up with, sip on some quality green tea served by the kimono-clad tea ceremony club, and rock out to the school folk-rock band performances. So much fun.

The main outdoor stage at my base school. Each class made a sweet banner and hung it from their classroom balcony. 

A ninensei dance performance at my visit school. Note all the observing students leaning over balconies and classroom windows. 

 

All in all, there’s something a bit magical about life in a Japanese high school. It could be just that it’s all a new cultural experience for me, but the students also seem to really enjoy their time here. For one thing, teachers and students have a really cool relationship, and it’s a very common occurrence for a student to walk into the teacher’s room just to chat for a bit. The teachers are really involved in their students lives as well, and they will often go above and beyond to help with just about anything. Everyday, as I head out between 4:30 and 5ish, the school is still busy with life. I’ll hear the militaristic chants of baseball practice from the field, the chilling yells and clashing wooden swords of kendo practice in the basement gym, and – my favorite – the crashing cymbals and wailing guitar solos of the folk-rock club soaring from an upper window somewhere. I’ve already jammed with one of the bands, and believe me, these kids can shred. Though I’m still the new guy, and I’ll always be the foreign guy, it’s been awesome how both of my schools have really welcomed me into their special community, asking me to give speeches and encouraging me to hang out with students in after-school clubs and really just to enjoy my time here. And I’m confident that there will be plenty more enjoyment to come.

The Adventures of Obon

This is a long one, so buckle up.

During the week of Obon (8/12 – 8/16), both of my schools were closed, so I was given no choice but to take a vacation. I didn’t complain, for what ensued was one of the most eventful weeks of exploration I have ever lived.

Kobe!

You heard it here first.

On Tuesday morning I took the train down to Hyogo prefecture with another JET friend, where I got to see the beautiful Pacific Ocean like I’ve never seen it before.

It was the strangest thing to be standing in the sand on the opposite side of the Pacific, an ocean that I had been so familiar with all my life. That wasn’t the only strange thing about this place. Growing up in So-Cal, my idea of a beach was limited to a vast sandy ocean-front with volleyball nets, or a rocky ocean cliffs rising above the waves. Either way, waves – and usually surfers – was a given. Such was not the case at Suma. There was no vast sandy beach, no rocky cliffs, and no waves. Rather, the oceanfront was lined with crowded little cantinas playing up a Caribbean theme. There seemed to be no distinguishing where the cantina began or ended, as the party vibe spilled out over the narrow strand of sand and into the wave-less water where smiling people splashed around in plastic inflatable inner-tubes. It was quite the scene to take in. But my fair skin couldn’t sit and stare for too long, so I went for a swim in the calm, warm waters – such a delightful relief from the sweltering Kyoto heat.

After a few hours, we headed for Kobe city. And it was beautiful.

I’m quickly learning that every city in Japan is quite unique in it’s own way. Kobe was the first city in Japan to open its ports to international trade around the turn of the 20^th century, and the international character of the city still lives strong. It was quite nice to feel like less of a foreigner for a bit. I even got to see a bit of China inside Japan, two of my favorite countries in the same place!

Kobe China town.

My friends and I had a delightful time getting lost in Kobe and finding a random hole-in-the-wall Japanese restaurant with some of the most oishii food. Then we finished off the night in classic Bruin-adventure fashion – trying to get on the roof of the biggest building around. Although we fell short, the view was still awesome.

Shreddin the Nara

Nara may be one of the most fascinating places in Japan. Its history actually predates that of Kyoto, as it was the first ever national capital of Japan (until it’s transfer to Kyoto around 800A.D.). Not only do the people here have ancient roots, apparently the local Sika Deer do as well. Some hundreds of years ago, the deer were deemed sacred, and killing one was a capital offense. Consequently, the deer have gotten a bit too comfortable here over the centuries. Seriously, these things are tamer than most peoples’ dogs, maybe even my own (sorry Buddy).

We came to Nara at the perfect time. Once a year, during Obon festival, the beauty of Nara park is brilliantly lit to it’s full potential. Think of an ancient Japanese city attempting an American Christmas light display. It was magnificent.

First of all, the park is lined with thousands of ancient stone lanterns, and every one of them houses a flickering candle behind a thin paper screen.

As per usual, the festival has developed a more contemporary edge as well. None the less majestic:

Then, of course, Nara demonstrated its ability to wow in a classic Japanese fashion. Nara park is famous for its vast and rolling grassy fields, and during this special week, the field itself is lit up – also with thousands upon thousands of candles placed in intricate and beautiful patterns that sprawl like tapestries across the green. It was stunning, and once again my little camera was out of its league.

A Couple Kyoto Classics

Oh man I love my city. Nara’s Obon display was epic, but Kyoto really knows how to strut its stuff. I’m starting to see how it has earned it’s reputation as the nation’s cultural capital. All throughout the week, many of Kyoto’s thousands of temples demonstrate their fully-lit beauty as well. On Thursday night I set out to see the esteemed Kiyomizu lighting ceremony. Kiyomizu is an ancient Kyoto monolith of a temple built in the hillside of the eastern mountain – all without a single nail! Like a Lincoln Logger’s dream. It was stunning.

Upon nightfall, a brilliant spotlight burst from the temple complex, creating a strange UFO-like illusion.

Very sugoi. Even better was the view of the city from the top. This is where my jaw really dropped.

My camera really struggled here, so this one’s a google image pic of what I was seeing, I think it captures the magic a bit more.

What I found to be surprisingly delightful was Kiyomizu’s neighborhood. Some city’s will bury time-capsuls in the ground, but Kyoto has places like this instead. Narrow stone streets, traditional architecture, kimono-stores… I really felt like I crossed a time-portal. Here’s a little pre-sunset snapshot:

We followed this neighborhood, in all it’s traditional beauty, to Kodaiji, also lit up in it’s Obon best. The lanterns still amazed me, even during my second visit.

Then there’s this goober:

A skanking Japanese ghost! I love this country.

Wandering on through ancient Kyoto, we stumbled upon yet another surprise. As we passed by a narrow street we caught a glimpse of four geishas bowing in formation as their high-roller dinner guest drove off into the night. Unreal.

Next stop was another unexpected discovery. I still don’t know the name of this place, but it was pretty sweet. I’m really digging this whole lantern thing.

Then, it was time to cross back into the modern world. And what a fitting gate to pass through:

Daimonji

Friday marks the final night of traditional Obon festivities. The entire week is centered upon Buddhist ceremonies of paying homage the ancestors, who are believed to return to Japan during the holiday. Japanese Buddhists will visit ancestral graves and even cook meals for their visiting ancestors. My guess is that the lit up temples are meant to call them home. Daimonji is where they send them off. On Friday evening I met up with my supervisor, where I was invited over to her friend’s house. It was pretty humbling being invited to a real Japanese home during this big festival, and I was quite delighted to find that she is a stellar cook. After a stunning meal, my supervisor, her friend’s daughter, and I rode off by bicycle to a local sports club in the northern part of the city. We ascended the elevator to the crowded roof of the 6 story building that was all a-buzz with excitement. Around 9PM the cameras came out as a giant “Dai” (大) kanji came blazing to life in the mountainside.

Shortly thereaftere, 4 more flaming kanji appeared in the surrounding mountains. It was truly breathtaking – to be standing upon a roof-top in this stunning city, witnessing such a legendary event.

The next morning, I joined forces with a few other JET friends for yet another adventure. In the sweltering heat, we defied dehydration to hike to the summit of the giant Dai to view the ashes from the previous night’s bonfire. Even more impressive was the view.

I love this city.

Sunday

To my knowledge, Saturday’s hike marks the official end of all the Obon traditions. On Monday, Japan is back to work. But then there’s Sunday. In the eyes of Obon, it is nothing more than an average Sunday. Yet through the eyes of a minority movement in Kyoto, this average Sunday is more cherished than any of the preceding days. For me as well, this day held the most joy. With a few of my friends, I rode the subway out to western Kyoto city for the evening service of Kyoto International Church, where I was blessed with the pure delight of joining my international, bilingual family in singing praises to the God of all creation, Who’s love is more delightful than even my favorite Japanese cuisine. What better way to finish such a epic week?

City of Lights

I’ve only been living in Kyoto for two weeks and I’m already behind in reporting on all the adventures. This place is unreal.

During my last report I was feeling a bit lonely and isolated, but God took care of that real quick. Last Wednesday I rode the subway downtown to Kyoto Orientation, where I was reunited with many other JETs. It was joyous.

And full of adventures.

The Horikawa

The first night we all went out for some excellent Japanese food. Seriously the food in this country is off the charts.

After dinner we cruised on over to the Horikawa lantern festival. As the sun’s light fades behind Kyoto’s mountains, it’s rivers come to life. Thousands and thousands of blue floating lanterns are released at the head of the river and make their voyage down the concrete canal that divides the major street above.

Bobbing and bubbling in blue iridescence, the lanterns make their way past all kinds of intriguing artwork watching from the concrete shore. For the light was not confined to the water. It rose in pillars like lighthouses, it cast shadows on wooden statues, and hung like neon icicles from the trees.

Then, it even filled the sky in a salute to the milky way.

I’m coming to find that in Japan, more often than not, the pretty lights mean more than just eye candy. This one comes with a neat story. And, because it’s Japan, it’s also pretty cutesy and romantic. The brilliantly lit archway above the Horikawa tells the story of two star-crossed lovers. Literally. Sorry Romeo and Juliet, but these two got you beat. This is the story of two constellations (I think one is Orion) that are separated by galaxies. Yet every summer, their romance is rekindled from winter’s long hibernation as they are once again reunited in the evening sky. Talk about a long-distance relationship. Bummer.

Kamo River

The next night, after a delightful feast at a conveyer belt sushi restaurant (eel is the ish!), we headed to the Kamo River for another lantern festival.

Quite a different vibe than the Horikawa, but also more beautiful than an iPhone camera can attest too.

Speaking of camera limitations, there was also an amazing projector show along the banks of the river. Using 3 projectors to layer the images, the light show told the story of the history of transportation in Japan, from the wooden geisha sandal to the shinkansen bullet train. All to the accompaniment of beautiful music.

Uji fireworks

Then came the grand finale – or more accurately like 5 of them. On night three, a group of us took the train down to Uji city, just south of Kyoto. Uji also boasts of some incredible Japanese history. Not to mention it’s green tea. Stepping off the train, we were faced with the most overwhelming crowd I have seen in this country.

Yet still so civilized and polite. It’s amazing how that happens here. We made our way to our spot and prepared to be amazed. As I was chatting with a fellow JET, sharing stories of the motherland (SoCal), I was cut off mid-sentence by an explosive BOOM. My eyes lit up as a resounding “waaaa” arose from the crowd. Then the sky above us came to life in the most dazzling hour-long fireworks display I have ever seen. Almost as delightful was response of the crowd. Too the playful smiley faces and mickey mouses, a response of “kawaii!”(cute). To the shimmering and sparkling colorful displays, a whispered “kirei” (pretty). And to the explosions in the sky that were simply beyond words, a resounding “sugoii!” (impressive). It was incredible.

 

I had some killer video footage to finish off this post, but WordPress is givin me the business. So I had to find a loophole: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10200431484646385

ようこそ日本へ! yokoso Nihon he: Welcome to Japan!

A big ol konnichiwhatsup from the Land of the Rising Sun. Please excuse the long wait, I’ve been in Japan for a week now but have been without internet in my apartment. Still another week to go for that. This country is awesome, and every day has been an adventure. So as I sit here in the shade of a cherry tree, enjoying a nice breeze and the scenic view of my local river, allow me to briefly fill you in on what’s up.

 

So sTokyod

Tokyo was rad. A jet full of about 180 JETs (teehee) arrived at Narita International Airport around 9ish on Sunday night, and we made our way to the epic Keio Plaza hotel in the heart of Shinjuku where we were joined by around 1000 other JETs from around the world. Air Singapore is the coolest airlines ever btw, we really had a great flight. Tokyo Orientation was two and a half days of business suits and long meetings. It was super exhausting (jet lag and humidity is a rough combo), but it was a ton of fun meeting so many people and making some really great friends. We were busy all day and most of the night, so I didn’t get to explore Tokyo much, save for going out to dinner one night. There were close to 1000 new JETs there, and we are being sent all over the country, so I got a lot of people to visit in some cool places now. The big socializing question of Orientation was “where are you going?” I quickly found that my response was quite envied, and often bitterly. Now I can see why.

 

 

おはよう京都 Ohayoo Kyoto!

I went from this epic view from my Tokyo hotel room (above) to this view from my apartment in Kyoto:

 

Ok, not as glamorous, but Kyoto is quite possibly the coolest city I’ve ever been to – and one of the most humid too. Transitioning into Kyoto has also been exhausting, but I’ve finally conquered jet lag and I’m starting to settle in to my new home. On July 31ist the Kyoto JETs and I arrived at Kyoto station by bullet train (yes it’s as futuristic as you would imagine). My wonderful supervisor and another English teacher from my school were there to meet me. These are some of the kindest people I’ve ever met, and they’ve been so incredibly helpful. I don’t think I could do this without them. They drove me from the train station to Toryo High School, where I will be teaching three days a week (the other two will be at a school in Uji). The whole car ride I stared wide-eyed out the window. This city is unreal, so it would be futile to try to explain it in a few sentences here. That will come with time, and many many pictures. Toryo is awesome, and I’m really excited to be teaching here. All the other teachers I met were really nice and very excited to be working with me.

My first week here has been all transition. Praise God that my predecessor left me with a ton of free stuff, so setting up my new apartment has been way easier and cheaper than I had expected. Plus it’s super tiny so I can’t do much with it. I’ve been cleaning and organizing my desk at Toryo, meeting co-workers, setting up my bank account, getting a cell phone, learning how to bike to school, going shopping with my supervisor, and doing quite a bit of exploring in my free time. I’m living in Fushimi-ku, the southernmost district of the city, but it’s only a few minutes walk to the subway that goes downtown. On Saturday I got to take that trip with my supervisor. I can’t get over how awesome this city. It’s going to take me years to explore this place. Here’s a few gems from the explorations thus far:

Japanese food is the best. I have yet to eat something here that is less than awesome. This restaurant was once the house of a wealthy Kyoto merchant… 400 years ago! The waitresses all wore traditional kimonos and we even had to take off our shoes at the entrance. And check out the garden out back:

 

 

Which of these don’t belong? If you guessed the bald guy, you are correct! My supervisor (to my left) took me to a traditional Japanese tea ceremony in the legendary Gion district. Our tea master is a Canadian dude who has been studying tea in Japan for longer than I’ve been alive. Pretty boss. Oh and I guess another acceptable answer would have been “Johnny”. I’m such a foreigner.

 

Fushimi Inari. This place is so cool it even makes me look like a good photographer. It’s actually pretty close to where I live.

 

Kodaiji at night with a light summer rain. Probably my favorite place in Kyoto that I’ve seen so far.

 

#gaijinstruggs

Everything has been exciting and awesome, but in all honesty, also quite difficult at times. I am so fortunate to have such great help here because there’s no way I could pull this off on my own. Not being able to speak Japanese has made me feel quite helpless at times. Even the simplest tasks like grocery shopping have become great challenges. Plus on top of that, being without internet has made me feel a bit isolated. Thankfully the days have been busy and full of adventure, but the nights in my tiny apartment can get kinda lonely. Although, I have been really enjoying my evening walks/rides:

  I still can’t really believe that I actually live here now. For the most part everything feels like a dream, but every morning I wake up and I’m still here. Yet I know that these struggles are all part of the transition, and transitions like these aren’t easy. I’ve been growing a lot in patience and a humble dependence on God. I feel that He has been preparing me all my life for this, and I’m excited for how I will grow through these challenges. He is my rock and my firm foundation, and I will not be shaken.

 

Small disclaimer: I wrote this post a few days ago (8/4) but haven’t had the internet to publish it until now, so it’s a bit dated. I’m at a hotel for another orientation in the heart of the city for a few days, so maybe a part deux will be coming soon. I can’t keep up with all the new adventures. 

Unexpectations

2 more days.

What am I to expect? What will the next few years of my life be like? I have no idea, and at this point, I don’t need to know. I am sure that I will at some point be asked if Japan is like what I had expected it to be. It is quite interesting considering this question at the phase where these expectations should be formed. Rather, I’d prefer to get on that plane with no expectations. I don’t know what Japan is like because I’ve never been there. Sure, I’ve read about it, seen pictures of it, heard stories from friends, but none of those are concrete, and I am cautious of forming an avatar Japan in my mind that may be in conflict with the real deal. Maybe the whole idea of moving to a new country is too much for me to comprehend, but right now I’m in a strange contentment about it all. It’s not scary because I don’t know what to fear. It’s not intimidating because I don’t know what to be intimidated by. Maybe this is the case because I have been learning and growing in a deeper trust in God. This is no mistake, and I know that even the finite details of what is ahead of me are no coincidence. There is great peace in knowing and truly believing this. That being said, I am very excited. Japan, and what my life there will be like, is still a total mystery. But mystery demands exploration, and there is the adventure. I have so much to learn, so much to experience, that I don’t want my expectations to be a hindrance to enjoying all that is to be delightfully unexpected.

A brief “P.S.” on goodbyes.

I’m terrible at them. For this I apologize. Over the past month I’ve had to make many hard goodbyes with lots of you, and I’m sorry if my sentiments in those occasions were sub-par. I’m a very live-in-the-moment kind of guy, so I can’t get past the joy of being with you in that present moment to grasp the sadness of our departure. But let me reassure you, I really will miss you guys, even if I don’t know how to show it. It will hit me eventually how much of a bummer it is that we’re thousands of miles apart, and I wish I could have channeled those emotions at the time to present a more authentic goodbye, but I guess that’s just not the way I operate. So if I gave you my usual smile and a casual “see ya later”, it’s not because I don’t care. I think it’s more so because I know that I will see you later, eventually. After all, eternity is an endless ocean of joy, and our brief separation is but a mist in the wind.