One year later

This week marks one year in Japan for me... and a lot of others who came with me. Some are choosing to return back to America, some, like me, are staying on for at least one more year.

I can't decide whether this year seems incredibly long or incredibly short. It's an increment of time... but beyond that, I don't have one unifying thought about it.


Our moving van.

It's always good to reflect on the past--not to determine regrets, but to realize how far you've come, and the things you've accomplished. If I have a goal for my second year in Japan, it's to stop squashing my excitement at things that are new to me. Here, we are always the "newbies", with more seasoned foreigners treating things that to us are exciting and fresh as common place events. One thing working with small children for many years has taught me is that it's ok to look at the world as a child does... taking delight in simple things... because really, what else is there? It's a mentality I've allowed myself to forget with this transition to Japan, and one I desperately want to recapture.

Over one year ago, A and I ordered a bottle of our favorite beer from my all-time favorite brewery, Perennial Artisan Ales in St. Louis. Along with our favorite local Mexican restaurant, we ate our "last supper" on the floor of our apartment before heading off with our moving truck to my mother's house in Minnesota.


Banquet attire.

After some harrowing transportation ordeals, before I knew it I was in the sky squashed in the middle seat of a 5 seat row for a 14 hour flight to Tokyo. It is not one of my better memories. So, jet lagged and a little stressed, I dragged myself through Tokyo orientation.

Still slightly jet-lagged, I boarded a bus for Nagano and was met by what seemed like an entire committee, but was really only three people. Then commenced a dizzying series of errands to various stores, all done in a suit in 90+ degree heat. Eventually I arrived "home" for the first time.


Actually, I didn't have curtains for a week, which resulted in an awkward meeting with the PE teacher whose front door faces that patio window.

I got used to things like driving on the left side of the road, having no dryer or air conditioning, and surviving without internet for over two weeks. Alan arrived in mid-August, and we embarked on adventure after adventure... in retrospect, a very very bad idea. In orientation, everyone tells you to stay busy, accept every invitation, and not waste any time sitting around your house. Well, sometimes you need to sit around your house to process the fact you just moved to a foreign country where something as simple as going the post office requires immense planning. We overestimated our ability to adapt quickly to so much change at once, and our constant traveling made it worse. 

One of our first big adventures was a 5 hour drive to Canyons in Gunma.  A five hour drive in the U.S. is relatively easy, on nice, flat interstates.  In Japan, a 5 hour drive for foreigners too cheap to pay expressway tolls is a windy, narrow mountain road from hell.  After arriving ill and out of sorts, we proceeded to relieve our stress by throwing ourselves down some waterfalls.

In America, I liked to challenge myself by doing things that scared me just to prove I could.  But here in Japan, everything is scary and difficult.  Just speaking is a risk, because there's a 50-50 chance you and the people you are trying to communicate with won't understand each other. Living with this constant underlying stress makes taking the risks I could take easily in America monumental challenges here in Japan.

We did manage to make it to Fukushima last October, and had a humbling experience in the evacuated area.  It's one of the most meaningful experiences I've had so far, and of course, we got our lovely cat, Akari out of the deal as well.  She was a real trooper, making it the 8 hours across Fukushima and Niigata, down the Japan Sea and south through Nagano, hiding under the seat and cuddling in our laps the whole while.  If you ever have the chance to support the Japan Cat Network, either through volunteering, a monetary donation, or supplies, please check out their website here: http://www.japancatnet.org

First time snowshoeing.

First time snowboarding.

Winter arrived and at first we enjoyed the outrageous amounts of snow, the likes of which I'd  never even seen growing up in North Dakota.  Snowboarding, snowshoeing, snowmen...

But never ending winter without central heating starts to wear on you, and ten pounds heavier I emerged in Karuizawa, ready to burn it off with a weekend workshop with my favorite yoga teacher, Kathryn Budig.  It's ironic really that she had to come all the way here for me to be able to practice with her, as I could never have afforded the cost in the U.S.  But here, it was an easy 2.5 hour drive to one of our favorite (and most expensive) towns in Japan.  Despite breaking off an old dental cap (it was easily fixed upon return by the wonders of Japanese dentistry), it was one of my favorite trips to date!

Me and Kathryn Budig. I'm such a dork, I wore my bliss ninja shirt on purpose, knowing she had the same one.:) Check her out on yogaglo.com!

Spring is amazing here in Japan, and you really earn every beautiful blossom after suffering through the winter.  I've never been so happy to see a new season in my entire life.  Everyone is happier too--the new school year begins, people are excited and positive... it's contagious.

The top of Mt. Fuji, 3776 meters/12,388.5 feet high. 4:30 a.m!

Now that summer is in swing, we have switched to climbing mountains.  While our first major attempt was an epic fail, Fuji-san was a success--two weeks before they started charging admission!  Woohoo!  It's humbling to stand on a country's highest mountain top, and the world looks a lot different.

With a whole year looming ahead of us, we have more adventures planned.  A hike to the top of Mt. Okuhotakadake in late August, Japan's third highest mountain.  A two day kayaking trip.  A marathon for me in November (click here to support it: http://www.gofundme.com/3qu9ow). Working on our iaido practice.  Joining the local taiko group. Finish my second Masters and TESOL certification.  It's going to be a busy year.

But despite all of the adventures and goals, we want to remember to stay grounded.  It's so easy to get caught up in things that don't matter here... as foreigners, we will always stand out, and no matter how hard we try, we will never blend in, and we will never follow all the "rules".  I have to remember that I am also here as a cultural ambassador of sorts, and I not only have to adapt to Japanese culture, but people must adapt to me.  Maybe this coming year, we can meet a little more in the middle...

And then there were some mountains.

So, like bazillions of foreigners and Japanese before us, we decided to tackle Fuji-san.  It was recently named a World Heritage site, and rumors are circulating about how much they may charge to allow people to... climb, I"m assuming?  At any rate, we had a long holiday weekend, the climbing season is only two months, so we decided to go for it.

The week before we had had a rude awakening by climbing what was supposed to have been a beginner's level mountain.  What it was was covered in snow, fog, and freezing rain.

On the descent from Mt. Komagatake.  Yeah.

After our first taste of what being unprepared on a giant mountain feels like, we outfitted ourselves for every eventuality, including opting for taking the longer, less popular trail--the Goten(m)ba Trail.  We wanted to climb overnight, and the hazards of doing so--besides the obvious fact that you are climbing over night with no sleep in the dark--is the crowds of people also doing the same thing.  In bad weather conditions, this can be extremely hazardous, as you stand in long queues slowly losing body heat.  After our experience on Komagatake, we knew that would be disastrous.

However, everyone and their mother was apparently also heading for Shizuoka at the same time, as we ran into horrendous traffic and arrived at least an hour late to the trail head in Gotemba-shi, Shizuoka.  As such, I was dubious about what the night would bring.  

Hour zero at the Gotemba Trailhead, 1440 meters, approximately 4:30 p.m. on Saturday.

Though the first few hours were at a slight incline, we had to hike up a trail of volcanic rock--which is basically like climbing up a beach.  Our boots sunk in at least 6 inches with every step, and our boots were constantly filling with small irritating rocks.  As such, we found ourselves getting tired quite quickly, and I slowed my pace considerably.

Hour 1-- feels like we haven't gotten anywhere.

Another problem with starting at such a low altitude is the trail seemed endless at first, because the incline wasn't as steep, and you could see forever--things that seemed not so far away, were actually quite far, and it seemed like we were making no progress at all.  But, we didn't run into very many people, which was part of our objective.

Looking down the trail after about 1-2 hours.

Hour 2--rain and wind, woohoo!

After hour two, the rain--which had been making a sad attempt since the beginning of the hike--finally kicked it in gear, and decided to make friends with some wind.  The weather forecast said a 0% chance of rain...

Looking down toward Gotemba-shi at dusk.

We settled down to appreciate dusk and add on some layers just before the 3 hour mark.  The Gotemba Trail has the least amount of mountain huts of any trail--and they are not open past 7 p.m.--which I did not know.

Hour 3.5--finally!  Our first station.  Guess what?  It's closed and has no services!

After this point, A started getting sick and tiring easily.  Our pace slowed down to a crawl with frequent breaks.  He had been going really fast--a good 5 feet ahead of me at times--and was starting to fill nauseous and tired.  Our plan had been to hike to the 7th station and rest there for several hours.  What I didn't know was that on this side of the trail, the mountain huts close at 7 p.m., and you cannot buy resting space, beverages or food.  

There are three stations very close together, and by the 7.5 station A could go no further.  We asked around to confirm that the mountain huts were closed, and we happened to find a nice man who even spoke English, and told us he had some cancellations and we could stay there for 5500Y each.  

I didn't realize what bad condition A was in, until he told me he couldn't make it back down or make it anywhere.  So, we went into the hut, and A stayed there through the night.  We were very very very lucky to have found someone to let us in a hut, as I don't know what I would have done. The wind was very strong on this part of the mountain, and I was planning on staying outside.  As bad as A was feeling, that wasn't an option for him.  I am so thankful to the kind people at the 7.5 station, who were beyond gracious and helpful!!!  I highly recommend their mountain hut anytime.  It wasn't nearly as bad as other blogs have portrayed, and you can use the toilets for free and return back to the hut after your climb and hang out and recover at no extra cost.  I'm also glad A found the man to let us in, because it was definitely the best option for him, and I'm not sad to have gotten out of the wind either!:)

8th station around 2 a.m. Sunday morning.

We went into the mountain hut a little after 10:30, and my body started going into chills and shakes from exhaustion and bad conditions.  I stayed in the hut, resting, until the tour group staying in our hut all got up at midnight and made as much noise as humanly possible.  After checking on A, and confirming our plan to meet up, I left the hut around 1:30, and joined a long queue of people headed for the top. 

I was thankful for the others on the trail at this point, because every single one was as weary, cold, and determined to persevere as I was.  We all shuffled along in a makeshift line, passing those who had slept on the side of the trail for the night, and others who could go no further, or were taking breakfast breaks.  We all asked each other, "Osaki ni?" and we all replied with, "Nope, I'm slow too.":)  Somewhere in this long, 2.5 hour trudge to the top, my backpack cover blew off from the wind, but that's the only injury I sustained on the way up.  You could see the long line of headlamps snaking their way to the top, and with the help of a granola bar and a Red Bull, I made it to the end of the line.

Shrine gate at the Gotemba Trail head.

When you arrive at the top, it's almost anticlimactic.  You've been trudging along for so long (8.5 hours it took us, but at least an hour of that was due to our slow pace and frequent stopping just before we stayed at the mountain hut) that I almost didn't know what to do with myself when I could stop.  I looked around dazedly, trying to get my bearings.  I walked through the shrine gate, and to my right was a shuttered post office and a sign proclaiming 30 minutes to the shrine.  I figured I didn't need to visit a shrine that badly, and took the shorter route to the very top of Mt. Fuji, Mt. Kengamine.

The route to Mt. Kengamine is very short, and basically a vertical, rocky slope.  It took the last vestiges of motivation I possessed to make it to the top.  I fell down it about 5 feet on the way down, as a tour group was hogging the hand rails, and have a bruised left bottom and scraped hands to show for it.  

Sunrise on the descent.

However, at the top, everyone was relaxing, chatting and waiting for the sunrise. A nice group of Japanese men offered to take my picture, and I can now say I've been to the highest point in Japan--3, 776 meters.  We were all weary looking, with headlamps (now dormant) still strapped to our foreheads, rain gear, crazy hair, and dirty faces... but we were all victorious.  

Sunday, July 14  4:15 a.m.  Mt. Kengamine, 3776 meters

My advice to others who try this trek:

1.  The mountain hut we stayed at on the 7.5 station is nothing as horrible as other blogs have made mountain huts to be.  If you take the Gotemba Trail, it is my opinion the mountain huts are less crowded.  I highly recommend staying at one.

2. It is a LONG time until you reach a station, so use the bathroom, etc. before you go

3. It is severely sketchy about buying food or drink on this trail, so bring all you think you will need.  However, on the descent, you share the ascending trail until the 7th station, so there is food and beverages available.  It is much more comfortable to relax at one of the stations than the windy, crowded mess that is the top.

4. Pace yourself!  It is a long hike, and the greatest change in altitude of all the trails, and if you feel your heart rate pick up, slow down immediately!  You don't need to keep up with the myriad other climbers who *will* be relentlessly passing you the entire time.

5.  Potties are 300Y--not 100 or 200, but 300Y.  However, the 7.5 station has one porta-potty that is free.  Also, we did not see any bathrooms at all until the 7.5 station.  Plan accordingly!

6. Invest in good rain gear and pack covers.  Our hike said a 0% percent chance of rain, and it was more like it was a 0 % chance it was *not* raining.