...the news

Way back in the beginning of February I was presented with a rather tough decision. Upon making up my mind, I began telling friends and family, but I neglected to make any large announcement. Then I just started assuming everyone knew. Some friends have recently asked about my upcoming plans, and I realized the lapse in my communication.

My English teaching position works on a yearly contract, and I can extend it up to five years. While some folks come here with five years in mind, I was quite resolute about staying for only one year. I was only six months into my contract when the paperwork for the following year came due. It was a simple sheet of paper that required date, signature, and a circle of yes or no. I signed and dated it, and then I stared. I stared at it up until the last moment of submission.

YES. I am staying in Shizuoka, Japan, teaching English until August 2010.

Coming here was easy. Deciding whether or not to stay, tore me apart. I am exceedingly grateful for my time abroad, but I do long for home. I have a great job, a good living situation, and the whole eastern hemisphere to explore. Economic security is generally not a significant factor in my decision making process, but now seems a proper time for exception. …Times is tough.

Alas, my triumphant return to the States is postponed to the tune of one year. I will be back. In the meantime, for those of you hankerin’ to see Japan, the window for visitation has now been extended.

Nakawarashina Elementary

Right now, during the peak of the school term, I am going on elementary school visits about once a week. I show up at a school, have a brief meeting with a teacher, and we go over the lesson plan that they have, hopefully, prepared. In a typical lesson I give a shortened version of my self introduction, they ask a ton of questions, we practice simple vocabulary/alphabet/numbers, and then we play a couple games where I stand back and let them scream.

Last Friday I went to Nakawarashina Elementary School. Getting there required a 30 minute bus ride, and a 15 minute car ride from the vice-principal. The school is out in the mountains. It is small. There are two students. The 5th and the 6th grader are taught together. At their disposal are a principal, vice-principal, and I think two teachers.


We had a lesson where we worked on numbers 1-30, then we went on a hike to a nearby overlook. I watched as the two boys gave a serious beating to a tree stump with some sticks. We got back and it was not yet lunch time, so they opened up a shed and brought out a set of wooden clubs for some form of golf game. The students, the teachers, and I all played the four-hole course. I took second place to one of the students.


Lunch was delivered and ready to eat. It was a sunny day so we sat outside at a table beneath an awning. They pretty much eat out there everyday. As per usual, my peanut butter & jelly sandwich and carrot were quite amusing to everyone. After a break I gave another lesson. This time their mothers came to watch and participate. We all worked on pronouncing numbers together. A lot of time spent on 13 and 30, a lot. After class the students went off to play and I gave my self introduction again. This time for the vice-principal, the teacher, and the mothers.

I then had a little time to hang out before it was time to go. I was reading a book when the vice-principal came to give me a tour of the school. He showed me the science room with a kiln, so it also doubled as a clay-firing art room. There was a home ec. room, and a technology room with some pricey items. The mountain schools always get the nicest stuff.


The last stop was the history room. Along the four walls were pictures detailing the history of the school. The school has been there since 1890. The buildings have changed, but there was always a school. The older pictures showed much more traditional architecture. Moving across the timeline, one could see all the typical transitions of time. Uniforms disappeared, bodies became less posed and more active, and even some smiles began to show up in the seventies.



Another thing that the images captured was the shrinking numbers. The vice-principal showed me a long vertical chart printed off a computer. It had a line for each year of the school from 1890-2010. When the school began its numbers were around 60 students. That climbed a little bit into the next century, but has since dropped. Especially in the last couple decades have the numbers been decreasing.

Next year one of the students will be graduating and moving on to junior high. It is likely that Nakawarashina Elementary School, for the first time in 120 years of operation, will be closing its doors. When asked, the vice-principal was not sure of what would happen. He seemed mostly concerned that his student would have a playing companion. It has been the opinion of everyone I have spoken to, including my own, that a school for two students seems a bit ridiculous and probably should not exist. The vice-principal did not seem to take any issue with his 40 minute commute to a rural mountain placement overseeing two students. That math did not disturb him. It is the thought of one kid and no friend to play with that seems to justify closing the book on over a century of history.

I can not argue with that.

That's a Wrap.

On Friday night, my buddy Jackson celebrated his 30th birthday by throwing a YouTube party. After going out to dinner, about ten folks gathered at my apartment to watch a selection of YouTube videos projected on the wall. Everyone in attendance had previously submitted their choice for screening.

Once we were half way through the video list, I added another selection:

I have been absent from video editing for too long, and so about a month ago I started a project. These days I do not have a video camera, so I must settle for what I do have. And that is a pretty good digital still camera. Digging through my archive of Japan photos, I settled on an album from Halloween. I previously blogged about dressing up and doing the Thriller Dance for Halloween, but a week earlier we had gone to a costume party on the other side of Mt. Fuji.

I took a ton of pictures that night, but my favorite series was Jackson covered in bubble wrap. I chose to ignore almost every other person at the party, and make Jackson the focus. In doing so, I removed the suggestions of Halloween and created a bizarre bubble-wrapped character. Making the video has owned the last month of my life. I took about two dozen images and made a three minute video. It was a good learning (and re-learning) experience, as well as a pain in the ass.

The video was well received by the birthday boy and everyone else. I am hoping that I can retain this momentum, and kick out a few more productions soon.

Greening Up.

It is with a poor sense of timing that I now grow some roots, literally...

I have had a yard, big or small, pretty much all my life. But not once did I care to garden. When I was little, I resisted every overture of my parents to help with the weeding. That was their project, not mine. And until you could show me a flower that grew Doritos, I was not about to care. Just before coming here, I had begun to help occasionally with a campus/community garden. But even then, I was just backup to be called upon in a pinch.

I have spent most of my time having the resources, but not the ambition to plant some seeds. Now that I am on the other side of the world, these factors have flipped. I have been increasingly motivated to grow some things as of late. It started as a couple indoor potted projects in the winter, and they have now moved outside. I have no lawn to speak of, and the same goes for the rest of the neighborhood. I am working from my third floor balcony, to the right of the washing machine, and the left of the air conditioner.


Currently there are four troughs: the first has two tomato pants, the second has lettuce/basil/mint, the third has green pepper/mystery Thai pepper 1#, and the fourth has spinach. In pots: there are six chive sets, a parsley plant, aloe, mystery Thai pepper 2#, and a bipolar strawberry plant.


We hoped for cilantro, but ended up with parsley. It works well in falafel at least. I think I am compensating for something, a lack of interaction with nature. Maybe I just like having the project. My predecessor left me a mini hammer that I just put to use making a shelf for the troughs to sit atop the AC unit. It is always a fun trip to bike back from the gardening shop, bikes loaded down with organic soil, plants, and cut boards.

Spring Break Okinawa!

After a little airport excitement (lots of running) in Tokyo, we had a spacious relaxing flight. Okinawa welcomed us with soggy arms. The city Naha has a nice monorail that gave us a dry view of the wet city, while bringing us to the hotel.

The hotel was near the main drag, and so we hit it up the first night. The street has the restaurants of local fare as well as American inspired. Gift shops pouring onto the sidewalk, mostly selling the same wears as the next shop. Okinawa does have some colorful items to shop through. They are quite proud of the regional sake, awamori. It is a stronger batch, and if you pay enough, it comes with a snake inside. I tried it, tastes like sake to me, not impressed.

The next morning we strolled down to the docks with all our gear on our backs. We did not stroll fast enough, as all the ferries were gone for the day. Our hopes of going out to another island were momentarily dashed. Plans were altered, and we bussed up to the northern end of the main island. There are some closer islands up there.

In our new area we found the docks just as they were closing. No ferries this day. We did however make it to a small island connected by a bridge. Once on the island, a fellow working a roadside food stand told us which beach permitted camping. The beach right under the overpass, okay. The night was the first trial of a new tent bought specially for Okinawan beach camping. The rain came out heavy, but did not come in. We thought we parked it safe, but morning light showed that the tide had come up to lick the tent.

The next day we headed back south. We stopped in Nago for awhile and got a tour of the Orion Beer Brewery. There was also plans for seeing a pineapple themed amusement park/winery, but doing so would require missing the last highway bus. I really wanted to ride the pineapple carts.

Back in Naha, we played it safe, and stayed in a hostel near the docks. The next morning we were then able to catch a ferry out to Kume-Jima. A four hour boat ride to the furthest of Okinawa's first island set. There are three sets. We both managed to keep our food where it belongs on the ocean ride. Not all passengers displayed such fortitude.

Once arrived, there was confusion as to which bus was ours, or whether we even had a bus. The lady behind the counter grabbed her keys and gave us a lift to our beach destination a few miles away. Lovely. Our literature spoke well of this beach that was off the beaten path. Tide was out, and we could have walked a ways out. Everywhere were mounds of rocks and seaweed. If your passion is collecting shells and coral pieces, this is your beach.

The kind dock lady was s quick to give us a ride, we did not even have time to evaluate our resources. Once we decided to find dinner, it became evident how removed our location was. Taking a good sized walk, we were able to find some snacky basics between a small store and an airport giftshop. The walk did showcase some nice farmland.

After filling up on our snack meal, we wandered into the building 20 feet to the right of our tent. It was a small shop/bathroom/hangout to oversee the beach. This night it had an older lady on duty and two guys hanging out, one old, one younger. She was watching a documentary on TV about Okinawa, and they were playing a local stringed instrument and singing traditional songs. If they sang too loud, she turned up the volume on her show. The trio welcomed the presence of Lindsay and I. The lady gave us bizarre little snacks long after we were filled, and the guys bought us some beers.

I came across this cryptic message on the beach.

The morning's goal was to catch a bus to the other side of the island for the primary beach and a higher traffic area. Walking back to the little store, we found the bus stop. It listed a bus once an hour, most hours. The bus time came and went. We saw nothing. A guy across the street came out of his house and asked what we were doing. He gave us a ride to the other beach in his car decorated with Lilo & Stitch items. It seems that here, spring break does not correspond with tourist season. Except for wandering locals, the sand was empty. A non-camping beach, we had to walk a couple miles to a health spa/campground that rented us some grass in their backyard. Down on the shore, some ladies were harvesting the green stuff off of the rocks. We saw this a few times.

Sadly, we never swam. But we did get our feet wet. We walked the couple miles back into town and were able to get a warm meal, Mexican. A welcome change to the convenience store camp food. With plenty of doubt, we were actually able to catch a bus back to the docks the next day. The ferry seemed a little quicker the way back, and we got a semi-Japanese style hotel in our original neighborhood close to the monorail.

The trip was three nights camping on/near beaches, two hotels, and one hostel. We never stayed in the same place twice, and much of the time we spent walking with all our gear on our backs. Much time was lost moving from one area to another, as it seemed we were always in transit. Camping was our goal, but hotels were needed when we were trying to get from one place to the next. The trip was great, but far from a relaxing day at the beach.

There and back we rode in a Pokemon plane. Japan!





I am growing familiar with the train rides back from the Tokyo airport.

Thai'd up

We woke and packed ourselves out of the Chinatown guesthouse, walked to the nearest dock, and caught the river taxi north to our next neighborhood. After settling in on Khao San, we went up to the roof to relax by the pool.

We spent a fair amount of time walking up and down Khao San, the parallel streets, and winding passages that connect them. It was your one stop tourist shop. Everything you could want as Thailand memorabilia was sold there. And while the vendors probably saw a healthy mark-up, the prices were still reasonable. Certainly the best collection of tshirts I have seen anywhere. For all of its commercial activity, the street was still great. All the food was cheap and delicious. The merchants were locals. The community was quite international.

The next morning was our last. We checked out and headed for some more sights. First stop was the Golden Mount, a giant artificial hill with a golden bell-like object on top. It was too giant for my small camera to handle, so please enjoy this photo of some small bells, also found atop the Golden Mount.


The next stop was Wat Suthat, a meticulously neat and ornate temple. The hot Bangkok sun was bouncing off of everything including the shiny tiles on the ground. On occasion a monk would pop out, going about his business. Us tourist folk were free to wander the lovely grounds and snap our photos.



Inside a large central building sat a substantial bronze Buddha. To his front a monk was leading a small service for a group of worshipers and/or tourists. To take a close look at the tall dark walls, I could see an unending spread of story telling pictures.

The sun had peaked and was starting its descent. We started our lengthy walk back toward the hostel, where our bags were kept. This stretch offered a better look of some everyday Bangkok life. Construction workers, laundry hangers, and a fresh market buried along the riverbank.

Slowly walking through the market to eat all the curries, fish, and vegetables with my eyes. Here and there the setting sun would find a hole in the tarps and junk piles, illuminating an otherwise hidden pocket of color. The whole tent was ready to burst with radiance, but the locals managed to keep some order by hiding their market in tarps, and repressing the dangerous colors.





We quickened our walk by cutting over to the river and taxiing up a few stops. The move was further improved upon by catching the sunset from the riverbank. The sun did its thing, and went away. We ate a last meal on the tourist drag, and used up the remainder of our baht on a few end of trip purchases. Bags on back, we wandered the street until shuttling to the airport for a 2am flight home.



Thailand is the best place yet.

Thai two

Despite the “help” of the friendly stranger, we were able to arrive at our first site on foot. Wat Pho is the home of the world’s largest reclining Buddha. The great gold being is kept inside, and there it is behind many columns, making it difficult to behold in its entirety. With the exceptions of feet and face, the Buddha was quite plain, and impressive in size only.

More exciting, was the playground outside. Well, not a playground, but it had me running around every corner. We were in an open-air fenced off complex full of ornate spires and engaging statues. The spires and their foundations were coated with colorful mosaic tiles. Each statue was a character full of personality.

I have seen a healthy handful of Japanese shrines, and I am far more excited by what Thailand offers up. In color, detail, and imperfection, Thailand dominates. Yes, even imperfection. There is something quite honest about the cracks and missing tiles. Walking through the historic shrine, I felt as though I was… well, walking through an historic shrine. Not to beat-up on Japan, but they are so neat about everything. The result feels like plastic, or Disney Land.

Our next stop was the Grand Palace. It was a quick stop. I was wearing shorts, and did not feel like renting the necessary pants to enter. We moved on to find another site, with lower standards for its visitors. A quick ferry across the river landed us at Wat Arun. Right on the river bank and a recognizable Bangkok image. The structure was a huge spire/tower surrounded by smaller, closely related versions of itself. It was accessible by a couple stages of steps, and a third roped off section. I felt no loss of the roped off section, the first two stages were literally climbing the stairs.

It was another ornate structure, superb in detail. The height granted a fine view of the river, an eaves-dropping look of surrounding neighborhoods, and a postcard shot of the modern skyline hazy horizon. I am sure what purpose they set out for with this shrine, but I am sure they accomplished it.



Back over the river, we continued our way north to arrive at Khao San Road. This is the traveler spot. The whole area is outfitted for tourists, but this street in particular is the backpacker/spring breaker mecca. The street is laid out wide, but populated thick. A constant flow of travelers coming and going with bags, eating international street cart cuisine, drinking cheap domestics, shopping for friends, and shopping for self. And for every tourist, of which there were many, there was also a local, selling something.

Some streets have a hum, the buzz of life happening all around. Khao San has something more. Khao San has a roar. Stepping onto the street is stepping into a stadium. Inside, everyone is part of the spectacle. There was plenty to see, and we were not about to see it all, so we stepped into a hostel and booked the next night.

It was dark, and we were a few neighborhoods away from our current dwelling, so we started walking. After a day on our feet, an epic stretch of backtracking was not ideal. We did manage to cover some familiar area in new light, or… dark. A big central park became a market for random items. The shrines glowed with their night lights, and then at 10pm they disappeared. We walked through the flower market, easily the most colorful sight yet. Fruits, vegetables, and flowers by the bag load. At this point my camera battery decided to run down.

We hit our Chinatown, walked the length of it, and found our guesthouse. Sleep was perfect.