Mt Fuji Hide and Seek

Regard this picture. How would you describe it? Serene? Beautiful? Picturesque? Inviting, even? This weekend was to be a relaxing trip to the Mt Fuji and the Fuji Five Lakes region. According to a friend of one of our group members, we were to walk from Lake Kawaguchiko to Lake Saiko up a slope with beautiful views, to an area of grass plains, perfect picnic spots and ideal lake swimming. Does this all sound overly romanticised? I hope so. Because here we are, sweating our way up steep slopes, lost in dense forest, and racing against time to catch the last bus before we were stranded in the middle of nowhere.

To cut a very long rant story short, things didn't exactly go to plan. The Saturday was fine, even though I felt like a mild version of death and really wished that I drank alcohol so I would have an excuse for being part-zombie. We attended a matsuri (a festival) held at a shrine in Yamashite. Imagine a fair with lots of little food stalls and game stalls. Now make it really quaint and Japanese-y ie. everything will have smiley faces, all the stalls will be colourful with flags, the food won't be crap, and the games will be simple and old-fashioned. For example, Antony tried to win a turtle by using a rice paper cup and dipping it into water to capture three before the cup disintegrated. (He succeeded on his second attempt and turtle AKA Matsu is doing fine).

Now if I'd happened upon a matsuri as a child, I would have thrown up in over-excitement. Matsuri would have been synonymous with magic. Take a look at some of the pictures. It's a very child-oriented affair so I snapped some pictures of particularly kawaii (cute) kids.

There were also some amateur sumo fights!

Things then went wrong...pretty much from the moment I woke up on Sunday still feeling like death, and had to accept I was and probably shouldn't be going on a trip to the lakes. Nevertheless, I set off with the group at 5.45am and we caught our 7.10am without trouble. The 1hr45min journey then took OVER FOUR HOURS due to "holiday traffic" (Monday was "Aged people's day" in Japan. I want to know why did they make it a holiday? It's not like aged people are working.) On arrival at Kawaguchiko, half of us got on a train, accidentally leaving the other half behind, to then receive a phone call telling us there was no need to head to the hostel yet as all the "stuff to see" was near the station.

Now I like to think I'm an honest person. I dislike liars and try to avoid it at all costs. But I was pretty annoyed at having wasted 290Yen and then having to pay for a return journey. So on arrival I tried to tell the ticket man that I'd come from the nearest station. He looked at me, picked up the phone, spoke rapid Japanese, hung up and faced me:

"Tell me the true station. Tell me the true. Guilty. Guilty! GUILTY!"

Oh, OK then :-( The hammer of judgement fell and I meekly handed over the fare.

The day didn't improve as we soon discovered it was way too far to walk from Lake Kawaguchiko to Lake Saiko and notions of a relaxing walk, especially considering the lateness in the day, were rapidly vanishing. We caught an over-priced bus, abandoned it at first sight of Lake Saiko and the keen amongst us rapidly threw ourselves in, trying to avoid the weeds that tangled round our ankles. I state this now: this was probably the best half an hour of the day. And no, that's not saying a lot. But it genuinely was fantastic water to swim in.

Some of us then decided to catch the bus in search of beautiful forest walks and the "Sea of Trees" only to be caught in more traffic and have not one clue where to get off. We eventually hopped off, examined a tourist map and joined a trail in search of a lookout over Mt Fuji. Sweating, stumbling and swearing, we began to fear we'd never find it when we bumped into a very helpful tourist. It was only 10 minutes away. Quick, everyone! Let's get there before we miss our bus! We panted and we staggered our way up. So here was the view:

To the right, you can just about see Mt Fuji. He's a bit shy. Or maybe he's just hiding his face because the bastard is laughing so much at us. Who knows?

We then take a different route back, find a bus stop, and a bus arrived within 10 minutes. There must be light at the end of the tunnel. Wait, no, it's just the tail lights of all the other cars in anoth hour long traffic jam.

Thankfully, our hostel - Mt Fuji Hostel Michael's - was very clean and new, with a very friendly owner.

The next day was considerably better. We walked to an enchanting hillside shrine only 20 minutes from the the hostel with great views over the town and mountains.

We returned to Lake Kawaguchiko and went up the ropeway with great views of the lake, only it was clearly Fuji's day off again from being visible. We then took a lakeside walk. And only about then, with some time to spare before the return journey, did we have time to properly appreciate the lake and its beauty.

Of course, we also had some fun:

And I was very interested in the giant yellow-and-black spiders. Isn't it kawaii?!

It probably doesn't need to be said but the return journey didn't take 1hr45 back, surprise surprise. It took 3.5hours. But if there's one thing I've learnt from reflecting on the weekend, it's that things are far more interesting to write about when they don't go smoothly.

Nani desu ka / What?! (on earth is going on?)

Have you ever had someone want to molest your hair on public transport? Keep this relatively clean, please - I'm talking about the hair on your head. If not, I can tell you all about my experiences (yes, plural for a reason). The title of this post pretty much sums up my reaction to this, and a few other events throughout the evening.

However, it also perfectly fits my experience of language learning on my 2nd day at university. We had a different teacher who is very keen to speak as little in English as possible, although doesn't always manage it. As a recent TEFL graduate, I can only commend these efforts. However, there is a need to explain what is going on very slowly and clearly in Japanese and check the class understands this. Because several of my classmates and I had not one clue what was going on. We knew she wanted us to read something. Or maybe, no, it was answer the first question. Or was it just do the example? Oh wait, I'm not even on the right page. Damn.

She'd only just taught us numbers so I half the time I only understood that she'd asked us to turn to a page when the student next to me, Tom F, who has studied a bit more Japanese than I have, began rifling through the handouts. To cut what could be a much longer rant on the frustration of not understanding, I need to study hard this weekend. And hopefully I'm going to make a better, more empathetic TEFL teacher when I go abroad next year.

The afternoon was passed confusion-free and with a stomach blissfully full of very cheap and oishii (delicious) tabemono (food) from the Shimo-tokaido campus. Sadly, this doesn't make for a very interesting blog post. The fun really begins when we all set out to an izakaya (Japanese drinking tavern that serves food as well) in Shinjuku for a party to say goodbye to one of the Japanese volunteer students and to welcome us JLSP students to the fold. First off, we get separated at Shinjuku, one of the world's largest station, and horrendously easy to get lost in. Finally, we manage to regroup and wind our way through the streets near Kabukicho, the red light district of Tokyo. Here's a shot of the Shinjuku at night:

We arrive at a place that looks like a garage but actually contains the izakaya which stretches much wider than its bizarrely nondescript entrance and goes up four floors - it was pretty much a Tardis! I then discover that even though I don't drink I have to pay 3,000yen for this evening. I pray this some kind of good deal, despite the price. After much questioning, I find out it is eat and drink as much as you like for a value up to that 3,000.

I didn't need telling twice. Lucy (another non-drinker) and I began to work away through platters upon platters of food. Fried chicken, fried octopus, fried shrimp, potato salad, octopus dumplings, gyoza (Chinese dumplings), pickled cucumber, braised pork belly, pork belly on sticks, shitake mushrooms, endamame beans... I wish I'd taken a picture. It was soooo good. Tom P also insisted that I drink some plum wine (priestss in training like their drink apparently) and so I managed a glass of that, and duly bowed when I completed it. I wouldn't order it again, but I didn't want to spit it out immediately which is an improvement on most alcohol.

Many introductions and fun conversations later, and the evening was getting late. We left at past midnight, with many people definitely tipsy if not drunk, whilst I was cheerily sporting the latest chopstick look. Sadly, they were only wooden disposable ones which inevitably led to comments that I was obviously pretty cheap...

With fears that we would miss out last train, we made it onto a different line. By this point, many people were a little worse for wear. Axal (on the right) felt somewhat neglected and decided that he should also share in the cuddles:

It was at this point that hair molestation on public transport experience number 2 occurred. Experience Number 1 was in London when a friend and I were attempting to make it back to Richmond on night buses, accompanied by two guys heading the same way and possibly on something more than alcohol. Whilst on this bus, I turn round to find one of the guys has got my hair in his mouth and is chewing it.

Experience Number 2 fortunately involves no saliva. A Japanese man became enchanted with the chopsticks in my hair, asking repeatedly if he could pick one out, and for me to spin round. Now trust me when I tell you it's not a particularly comfortable feeling to turn your back to a drunk person who's trying to feel up your hair. Eventually, I picked out a chopstick and gave it to him in an attempt to shut him up but then he tried to put it back in my hair, almost taking out my eye in the process. Antti, one of the Finnish students, safely returned it to me.

The party should have stopped as soon as we stumbled home. But Tom P called for more drinks in his room and beer-sharing man-love was high:

It was past 3am before I made it back to my room in a frenzied, hyper-state and decided to call England until 4am. It's 1pm the next day now. I am unwashed, coming down with a cold and sorely regretting the late night. But what an evening!

Reality dawns: Nihon University...or "We'll School You"

I had almost forgotten why I was in Japan. But then it was time to go to Nihon University for an introduction and for endless forms. I soon discovered that I need to be able to write my name in katakana and I really need to remember my address and Japanese phone number!

On Tuesday, we went to the university for our "placement test". This presented some difficulty to the six of us who couldn't read or/write a thing! Fortunately, we were let off any test that would have been horribly demoralising and instead we had a 5-minute informal chat (in English!) and then headed out to Harajuku for some hardcore shopping and general ogling at the foreignness of the place! Sunday is the best day for seeing the youths dressed up in amazing costumes. Here you can see me with some crazy Harajuku girls:

Sadly, our Tuesday shopping proved somewhat underwhelming for me. I actually

restrained myself from buying anything because I am acutely aware of the cost of living here. My commuter pass for 3 months cost me over 30,000 yen (over £224!) The Cambridge crew were also depressed by the fact that Cambridge didn't enter us for the JASSO scholarship. If so, by now I would have over £2500 in my pocket. Actually, I wouldn't because I would have been gripped by a shopping craving so violent that I would still be recovering whilst rolling luxuriously in my new goods. Still, Kaisa did a good job for me. Look at her go!

Yesterday was an "orientation day". I failed from the moment I woke up. In fact, I failed at being "orientated" before I went to sleep. I managed to set my alarm for the time we were supposed to be leaving. Somehow I managed to get washed, dressed, packed and out the door in 8 minutes. This impressive feat was then somehow ruined when I failed to understand English questions addressed to me by the other students and fell off a step in my confusion.

"Orientation" itself was not much of an improvement and included a "tour" round Ichigaya, the area in which we will be studying, which was less a tour and more of an obsessive photo opportunity. Things improved when we returned to the campus at Shimo-tokaido (where we're living). This was due to the gastronomic opportunities an incredibly cheap cafeteria presented me with. Not only did I get a massive and delicious plateful of Japanese curry, rice and tonkatsu (breaded pork fillet) for 360 yen, but I got a cookies and cream ice cream, followed by a caffe latte. Then they took us to a café and bought us drinks and more ice-cream/desserts. It's a shame that my gastrothon has left its very distinctive marks down my white vest top.

The evening ended amazingly with karaoke. Although not everyone was keen, the majority of Cambridge and the Finns turned the energy levels up to 11 and I bopped up and down like a kangaroo on speed.

Reality once again struck when the high of singing non-stop cheese began to sink down into the depths of our stomachs and the memory of a speech in Japanese the next day bubbled its way up. I went back and panicked consulted the oracle AKA the Internet.

The next morning gave us our true experience of rush hour on trains in Tokyo. Soaking wet from the torrential rain, we pushed ourselves onto the train with no room to even lift our arms. Or put your arms down if you're already carrying your bag above your head. A wet bag that then comes to rest in a Japanese man's face. But he didn't complain and so I didn't notice. The bag was then placed in Antony's face instead to the sound of much grumbling.

Our first lesson of the day was given by a very, energetic teacher who conducted the class in hellos and name-giving. We needn't have worried about our speech as by the end of this lesson we were reasonably well-versed in all the appropriate introductory phrases.

Self-introductions are a BIG THING in Japan. Everyone has to say "hajimemashite" (how do you do?/nice to meet you) to the group, before introducing themselves and then bowing whilst wishing the group well again! Here I was thrown off course by my martial arts training: never take your eyes off your opponent. I bowed, keeping my head up and staring intently round the room. The teacher, however, was quick to emphasise the difference between samurai and polite company! Fortunately, I was more successful in the actual opening ceremony and managed to bow correctly and blabber my way through some broken lines, whilst nodding and smiling in a desperate attempt to be ever-so-kawaii (cute - it's another big thing in Japan! It explains why everything has smiley faces. Hello Kitty stickers give instructions on the train!)

Lessons went downhill after lunch when we were given an hour-and-a-half-long speech by an elderly man over 70 who spoke very quietly in poor English about his life story. I had to change position in my chair every 10 seconds to prevent my head rolling and pinches on my leg failed to keep my eyes open. However, I amused myself by watching his ears. He said he was a Buddhist and he had very large ears that hung down and wobbled as he moved his head. They were perfect Buddhist ears. Some people are just suited to their religion.

Things to look forward to: a Japanese culture lesson on honne and tatamae, two Japanese emic concepts that became essential to my dissertation!

Engrish T-Shirt awards:

"We'll School You" worn by a guy just outside of the Nihon University campus

"Crack is Back"

"Masterpiece Bitch" - worn by male

Hot SUMO action caught on camera

Do sumos have girlfriends/boyfriends? Do they get married? Do girls swoon over their photos and try to meet them "backstage"? Wikipedia leaves me stumped on this issue. And if you were, say, sumo-inclined, would you date the thinnest or the fattest? Antony gave us some good advice: "If you're gonna date the sumo, you might as well date the biggest." Well, they say size does matter...

Just as sumos may experience pain in their training, so did our Cambridge Uni/Finland crew as we left at the nauseatingly early time of 7.30am after far too few hours of sleep. This was in order to queue at 8.30am for non-reserved general admission tickets for 2,100 yen, opposed to all the other reserved tickets which ranged from 3,600 - 14,000 yen. However, once we arrived at the dohyo, there was no queue in sight and so I began to feel somewhat cheated of sleep.

A grand tournament is held 6 times a year and lasts for 15 days. Each sumo fights once each day, beginning with the lowest ranks and moving up to the high est ranks. Much as we were feeling very privileged and cultured to have tickets (despite the fact it's a massive tourist thing), the prospect of watching over 8 hours of matches was not so appealing. A quick trip to the Edo-Tokyo Museum was in order, so we could continue feeling cultured. As with all museums, I never really learn that much, although I did find out that Tokyo's population was reduced from over 7 million to 2.4 million after the Second World War due to heavy bombing. Wow. Damage rivalled Hiroshima.

However, on a more light-hearted note, I also learned that:

1) the Japanese are watching you! We innocently climbed onto the fountain edge on the rooftop plateau and a security guard over 100m away fetched a loudpeaker to shout at us. Furthermore, in an indoor seating area, I had hardly got the water bottle out of the bag before the attendant was leaning over me to tell me off for drinking. Ironically, the water bottle contained water out of the fountains that they provide and to add insult to injury, it tasted of wood!

2) I still do not like onigiri (rice-filled seaweed wraps) as wonderfully evinced by Antony's photography.

To the main event of the day: the Grand Tournament! Check out the arena:

About sumo matches, it is important to realise that they don't last very long. To put it simply, some don't even last 5 seconds. As soon as one sumo is pushed/thrown out the ring or touches the ground with any part of his body (other than his feet!), then the fight is over. The fight preparation - clapping to attract the attention of the gods, foot stamping of evil in the ground and glaring at the opponent - generally takes a lot longer:

Still, even though we were watching the novices, there was some awesome action:

We then took a break in order to eat some chanko, the traditional stew that sumos fatten themselves up on. They don't eat breakfast, then train, eat the stew, then sleep which helps them gain weight faster. However, weight rules are less strict nowadays because, surprise surprise, being very very fat lowers your life expectancy quite considerably.

It was a long afternoon but finally, at around 4pm, the pros came on. The Japanese were obviously much wiser about this than us because the arena seats actually began to fill up at this time... Although before sumo wrestling had seen a lot like slapping, we saw a much greater variety of moves, including legs trips and arm throws. One sumo obviously had a taste for theatrics and came on beating his chest. The final fight though was over in seconds!

It was a very long day but a lot of fun. I wanna be a sumo when I grow up!

SHE'S BAAAAAACK

My blog from my last trip to Tokyo met a somewhat untimely end after I started doing intense, serious research (read: having too much fun). Now thanks to a wonderful exchange programme that Cambridge has with Nihon University, I am now back for a 3 month course of Japanese and for more curry doughnuts.

My story can only begin with the journey because things didn't exactly go smoothly. Firstly, I managed to tip 250ml of water into my handbag, saturating the contents, including my boarding pass. It was still legible but despite my protestations, the lady at the gate referred me to another desk in order to get it reprinted. I promptly approached this desk with the announcement of "Hello! I am water leakage girl!" Don't ever refer to "leakage" and yourself in the same sentence unless you want people to regard you with barely-concealed horror.

To top off this general leakage theme, I managed to get the seat on the plane with the fold-out tray that doesn't lie straight. The wonderful slant angles everything towards my lap. In an attempt to cut a slice of chicken breast, I near-catapulted a cup of apple juice over the elderly Japanese man next to me.

So....so far so good. After being greeted at Narita and then Shinjuku station, Antony and I lugged our stuff into the taxi and then into our raaaather nice accommodation (bedroom, kitchen, bathroom - and spacious by Tokyo standards!) to then be given a tour of the area where we're staying: Shimotakaido. Now, it's only 5 mins walk to that station but somehow we ended up..."admiring the view" along several other streets before we finally found our way back. By that point, I had been on the go for 26 hours. Whew.

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Today, my fellow students and I took a stroll round Asakusa and Ueno in the unusally high temperatures for this time of year (33degC+) but the not-so-unusual humidity. Highlight was possibly watching the wildlife in the the lake in Ueno Park. Turtles and carp and a duck all battled valiantly for bread. As a result, I can now introduce you to a world exclusive game: Duck, Fish, Turtle. Rules are the same as Rock, Paper, Scissors. Duck beats fish, fish beats turtle, turtle beats duck. Invent your own hand signs as necessary.