Olympus Pen Mini E-PM2

I acquired a micro four-thirds camera while in Japan this past spring. One of the main justifications included being cheaper in Japan even with the then-atrocious exchange rate. Another is that it's much more compact than the Canon Rebel DSLR. A relatively minor but still important one is that it's cute, and so is the girl who advertises for it. 

Requisite shoe/foot "selfie" with fallen sakura petals. I had never seen Japan during the cherry blossom season, and my timing was perfect. I arrived as they started to bloom and left as they fell. So I got to enjoy quite the spectacle. Also, these Liberty x Nike Sky High Dunks are the greatest things ever. There's a hidden wedge, so you get a little boost in height and leg length, if they are exposed. It might be good, if this sort of thing can ever be good, to "practice" for wearing higher heels at all. I think Nike knows that these are too popular not to make any more, so I'm waiting for the right print to appear to grab another pair.  

I planted radishes in late April. This past weekend, about a third of them were ready to be consumed with slices of buttered baguette and a sprinkle of salt.  According to Ina Garten, this is how French schoolboys snack. 

While basketball and hockey linger, baseball begins and its headlines are routinely ignored for Miami Heat news. Here, we went to a Tampa Bay vs. White Sox game in late April. Of course, it was freezing. We went a month later, just this past weekend. Of course, it was freezing. At least we got to see fireworks both times. This Olympus has a lot of settings, including a "fireworks" one, so I got this semi-decent shot. Semi because the fireworks look fancy, but the rest of the stadium makes you feel like you might be a little tipsy. There are other "art" settings, or modes, you can use to take pictures. I don't know the details, but I think it's like using a filter (yes, like Instagram filters, what other filters would I be talking about) without saving a raw, unfiltered form of the image. It's kind of unnecessary but fun to have on hand. 

On chilly days, I wrap her up in her tiger blanket. I'm not sure she cares. I think she at least appreciates the pillows, particularly the blue one with the now-old school Doraemon print. As usual, Mitsu is a happy camper!

My most recent obsession right now is the historical drama series "Yae no Sakura." So, I'm also interested in the collapse of the Tokugawa regime. It makes me think about Japanese identity in a way than I've ever considered before...but I think about it like, ALL THE TIME. I have had to read the chapter on the fall of the Tokugawa bakufu in a book I used in a modern Japanese history class back at Grinnell with Professor Hshieh. I'm even re-reading some sections because so much drama went down in Tokyo and Kyoto during this time, and it's hard to keep track of all the details. It's funny, I used to care more about World War II, but I realize now how terribly ignorant I was of Japan's modernity and how it came to be. And all I had to do was get sucked into at least ONE historical drama. Best believe I'll be studying up on Kuroda Kanbei for the 2014 series. It'll star my favorite Johnny's actor, Okada Junichi. I knew his time would come! Or does being in an NHK series mean you're done? Anyway, there are homework materials to gather in the next six months!

And in two weeks, we will be taking a trip to Japan where I serve as the main guide and translator for Mordecai's family. But all I can hear in my mind is olde [sic] style Japanese language used in higher courts among lords, nobles, and their advisors, and in either a western or northeastern dialect, on top of it all. None of these forms of Japanese are useful for me in present-day Japan! Anyhoo, I live, the blog lives; expect some more posts on Japan or Japanese things, the only thing I will spend extra time to blog about!  

Japanese people continued

These pictures took less guts to take--the people are facing away from me, but they deserve no less recognition than forward facing subjects.

Some cool older men on the train. The first man seemed to have more character and flair than the second, but maybe the second guy is still developing his. He at least looks stylish. His stylishness seems to me uniquely Japanese in that everything is carefully calculated. Japanese fashion never seems to me whimsically put together, in that ubiquitous Olsen/Fashintoast "I just threw it on on my way out" sort of way (maybe that style is fading out now though). This man put more thought into his ONE outfit for this ONE day than I have for my own clothes and makeup in the past couple of weeks since I've returned from Japan. I mean, I put more effort into my clothes while I'm there, but I cannot look that well-edited when I go out.

This man below is delivering Kiyoken bento boxes to their counter at the basement (i.e. food) level of the department store Takashimaya. I always see pre-made bento boxes in grocery stores, train stations, and Haneda airport, and they usually look good. But ultimately, nothing beats a Kiyoken shumai bento. Luckily, there's a Kiyoken lurking at every corner everywhere, so you can have one whether you're on the go or not.

Here's what a shumai bento looks like. 

Shumai are steamed dumplings, not unlike like gyoza. There are other forms of meat: cooked tuna, kamaboko (the pink and white fish cake), and a piece of karaage, or fried chicken (has more soy sauce and ginger flavor then their American counterpart). There's also sweet egg (the yellow slice), a piece of dried apricot, and the best part, which I remember from my childhood: chunks of sweetened bamboo (very top left). I had this particular bento on the way to the airport, so it was my last meal. I rarely finish meals (I order too much and am picky) but this, aside from the tuna (not a big fan--can I get some more bamboo instead?), I finished. I felt like I won something! So anyway, my love for the shumai bento is why, when I saw the delivery man in his Kiyoken jacket, I took a picture of him. Thank you for your hard work!

I know I shouldn't make fun of "Engrish" or anything like it, but I can't help it. This sweater is delightful.

And finally, this is from my first full day in Yokohama. This is past the West Exit of the Yokohama train station, between Bic Camera and Vivre. This is where cars can't pass through, so it's just people. I wasn't doing any particular people-watching (or am I always doing it?), but I noticed this man walking in front of me. When I realized what was going on with his bag situation, I frantically pulled my phone out and started taking pictures. It's a miracle I got this shot where everything but him and his bag are blurry.

He's got a FANNY PACK AROUND HIS NECK. This is not normal, right? My first couple of days in Japan always feel strange, mostly because of being in a completely different time zone. Sometimes it's something like cultural shock that sinks in harder than it does later in the trip. But is this culture shock? This guy is just doing it wrong! But that's okay, he's got it figured out. I probably shouldn't be taking these pictures and posting them on the Internet, either, but it's okay, I want to share them and I mean to do it with love.

Japanese people

Every trip to Japan calls for a trip to Kamakura. Currently in Japan, there seems to be a big boom in miniature poodles of this brown color, I think because they look like teddy bears. My mom wants one (I'm not sure to what degree she's being ironic-funny because Oji is so huge [friendly, but huge]) so she coos at them when she sees them. This woman seemed kind of social, like she wanted people to notice her teddy bear dog, so my mom asked if it was okay to take a picture (so this is not a "stolen image.") I wanted it to be a shot of the two of them but the woman held herself back a bit. I loved the woman's look--compared to other people, she had the aura of a "celeb." When we took the picture, she said to dog, "Aren't you lucky, they wanted your picture!" Somehow this strikes me as classic Kamakura. People are naturally cool about everything, including their wealth and dogs and the city's rich and long history. Just a giant Buddha statue and tons of old shrines and temples people love to visit, no big deal.

Halfway through our trip, my mom and I remembered we needed to visit the family grave. We spoke with the temple's aging priest, wandered around my mom's childhood neighborhood, and stopped by this lovely little coffee shop, "Coffee Yama," right around the corner from the Koganecho train station. They love their cigarettes--a sign at the entrance almost boasts that there are no non-smoking seats. (Non-smoking areas are increasingly more common these days; GyuKaku was all non-smoking!) They sell them at the register, too, including some Che Guevara variety. When we walked in, we were greeted by Kraftwerk's "Pocket Calculator." The interior is very Showa--1970's-80's, dark, kind of comfortably cramped. I thought it provided the perfect scene for strange characters to meet in a Murakami Haruki novel. Most customers were by themselves, but these ladies were chatting away. They had apparently ordered Coke floats and were delighted by their arrival. 

This lady, even in her train-nap, is not pleased. This was on the Keihin Kyuko (KeiKyu) line, which is *so cheap*! How could this woman still be mad? She even has an end seat and no one next to her! Just an obnoxious weirdo across from her, taking pictures of her and posting them on the Internet.

While waiting for Naomi at Sakuragicho, I noticed a kid on a payphone. That means he doesn't have a cell phone. I loved the expression on his face while he waited for someone to pick up on the other line. He seems serious and earnest. Also, the Japanese always carry extra bags in addition to their main one (like purses, or in this case, a "randoseru," or the bulky, square backpack elementary school kids carry). I imagine in this kid's case, at least one of the bags is for "juku," or cram school. But that doesn't fit in the giant box-bookbag thing he's shouldering? The other thing is that people always carry "omiyage" or gifts to their destinations, especially if they are seeing or visiting someone. I can see that giving gifts as often as the Japanese do might require extra bags. But what's in the TEPRA bag? 

More stolen images to come.

America is big and dirty!

This isn't quite a fair comparison; it might be like "comparing apples to oranges," which I've noticed my students like to say (which is code for "Why are we talking about this?" to which I want to exclaim "Because it keeps philosophers employed!"). But these are the streets with which I am familiar.

This is a small, two-way street deep inside of west Yokohama. There's a bus route that stops along here. I don't like it when my grandma jaywalks on this street. 

And here is Chicago's Fullerton Avenue. There are two lanes for each direction. Again, the 74 Fullerton bus is probably not the same as the 53 route that runs by my grandma's apartment, but still, we're talking about bus route streets. I don't like it when big families jaywalk on this street.

Since about high school, when I'd return home from Japan, the first thing I'd really notice and appreciate was the high ceilings of American homes. Lately when I return home from Japan, I feel like in addition to things like ceilings and streets, the sky seems bigger, too.

I walked with Mordecai and Mitsu on Christmas morning. We walked along Fullerton, where I took these pictures. Looking at them walking ahead of me, I remember thinking, "Damn, it's dirty here." Still, it is nice to be back home. 

Japan - December 2012

Totsuka, Yokohama

My mom and I visited my grandmother for two weeks this past December. I rarely go to Japan during the winter so some of the experience was rather novel. Naturally, the soundtrack was George Michael singing "Last Christmas" and Mariah Carey "All I Want For Christmas Is You." Reservations were being taken for Christmas cakes, cooked chickens and turkeys, and KFC (I couldn't get fried chicken on the 23rd because they were only fulfilling reservation orders!). It's quite festive, except there's no religious or any real meaning behind it all so it felt a bit surreal. I wanted to see Santa on a cross, but I think they got past that gaffe a while ago.

Aside from experiencing the Christmas spirit, I ate a lot of steamed buns and udon noodles. Other noteworthy components of my experience was the weather--it rarely gets below 40 degrees (F), so it was kind of confusing. I'd get hot while walking or on the train, but it'd be freezing at night. I was also there during the elections and saw the changeover of power from the Democratic Party of Japan to the more conservative Liberal Democratic Party of Japan. I was amazed at the reality of political third parties--some people I know voted for the Communist party; I was rooting for the doomed green "Future Party." The elections made me think about Japan more generally: its (homogeneous) population as a whole, its relation to foreign countries, the war's ongoing effects, the current generation, potential directions for the future. I often think about these things here and there, but it wasn't until this trip that I've been able to better collect my thoughts.

I'll be posting some pictures I took, mostly with my iPhone, and which were edited with an app called Camera+. I've got more "stolen images" of random people! :D

Next - Autumn Kyoto Kaiseki Menu

A few nights ago, we went to Next for the first time. The fall menu for this year is "Kyoto," or their take on the kasieki meal. Most of these dishes are the chef's interpretations of kaiseki ryori. I was a little nervous since I had never been to Next, I've never had kaiseki, and a lot of fancy Japanese food has historically repulsed me. But I was brave, and I was rewarded well for it. Photos, descriptions from their menu and my own elaborations, and some thoughts below.

"chestnut, apple, white miso, hay aroma" -- the little block is chestnut tofu, and the sauce was described to us as white miso with apple butter. 

"japanese maple forest" with many shrimp and roe hors d'oeuvre type things

The "trees" are crispy shrimp heads.

Maybe these were supposed to represent toadstools? Roe and (salty!) corn pudding in a little yuzu rind.

Skrimpf eyes! It's like fancy kappa ebisen. 

"sashimi, shiso, tamari": kampachi, salmon, medai with gold flakes and fresh wasabi (there were two dipping sauces: tamari and shiso)

"abalone, cucumber, red sea grapes" featuring kinome leaf, which make tongues tingle

"anago [saltwater eel], maple dashi, shimeji mushroom"

"matsutake chawanmushi [savory egg custard], pine" 

I eat my chawanmushi like Pepperidge Farm Verona cookies (the ones with the jam in the middle)

Ayu. Dipping sauces were soy sauce with cured yolk, and wasabi puree.

The ayu was reportedly from a river in Kyoto. I still don't understand how that is true. Our server said that this wouldn't be available in a couple of weeks since they'll be out of season, so I guess in November, people will be getting another kind of fish.

Fried chrysanthemum, eggplant, and shiso leaf. Flower was edible but this was an item I had trouble eating. 

Red miso soup with wagyu beef and vegetables. This was served with rice (Tamaki Gold, available at Mitsuwa [I asked]). There were pickled vegetables with this dish but they were too wasabi-y for me.

Dessert: roasted fig, yuba (tofu skin), and grapes on a little bed of reduced soy milk. This was a little salty to me but whatever the grapes were, they reminded me of tiny kyoho grapes.

Shime (closing): warabi mochi (childhood favorite of mine, but the ones I know are the ones from convenience stores) with red bean paste/jelly inside and macha green tea.

We had a non-alcoholic beverage pairing, so that many of the courses came with some concoction of strange flavors. For instance, we had a yuzu, pear, seaweed, and bibb lettuce puree drink with the forest course; the sashimi came with a ginger, soy, cucumber and lime drink; the soup came with an apple-barley-licorice drink. There were a couple more of these strange, what were ultimately, juices. This might be a bit of a backhanded compliment, but they reminded me of juices sold in PET bottles in Japan. Like Natchan and Calpis. Subtle in flavor (at least compared to American juices) and kind of thin and watery in texture. They were interesting combinations, never unpleasant even if one was suspicious of an ingredient. I was happy we went with that rather than just water or alcohol.

My favorite dishes were the following: anago maple dashi soup (reminds me of Yokohama's Wakana, an eel establishment from mine, my mother's, and my grandmother's childhoods), the red miso soup (reminds me of what sumo wrestlers eat; it has a very home-y feel, but still special because of the buttery wagyu), and the warabi mochi at the end. It was better than Japanese convenience stores' warabi mochi, lol. Aside from flowers and wasabi being a weakness of mine, there was an uni-mayo dipping sauce for the fried lotus rings in the "maple forest" course that just straight up tasted like what I imagine licking the bottom of the ocean to be like. For similar reasons, the abalone course was a little tough for me to get through. For similar reasons, I thought I'd have difficulty with the sashimi, but I did not! It was the prettiest dish and very much edible by my standards. I'd even say I liked it a great deal. 

Eating at Next feels like getting exclusive seats at a show or concert, or like getting an exclusive and personal tour of a rare art collection, only you're eating everything. I felt a little guilty, enjoying this exclusive and expensive meal as a mere grad student, but my grandmother has some saying about there being no such thing as wasted luxury. This is a meal I will always remember, undoubtedly a point of reference in years to come.

French Macarons in Japan

Part of Labor Day was spent cleaning the house. My incentive was to vacuum the area rugs to get rid of Mitsu's fur and the confetti she makes from neglected paper products. Mordecai's was for me to put away the last suitcase from our trip to Japan, which had been left out in the dining room since the beginning of June. One reason why I don't like to put the suitcase away (aside from laziness and an unwillingness to accept that the trip is in the past) is because there were a lot of paper products in there, and I didn't know where to put them. Then I noticed a trend in some of the brochures: French macarons. I have what are little menus of the various flavors offered recently by Pierre Herme and Laduree, and a bigger, thicker flyer of a new flavor from Laduree to celebrate their 150th anniversary. I also kept the bag that contained what I thought were the best macarons I had in Japan, the unassuming ones from Kagoshima.

The front and back of the bag from the little pastry place in Kagoshima. It was in a "depa-chika," or the basement of a department store (where all the food is located, not where bad children and stores go).

"Les Incroyables de Laduree": Strawberry Marshmallow!  

Laduree menu (not sure why the last one is oriented differently from the rest or what a Kalamansi is)

Pierre Herme menu

I'm noticing that Laduree has a more Marie Antoinette (Kirsten Dunst- and Sofia Coppola-style) aesthetic--bright, rich, decadent colors and graphics, while Pierre Herme has a softer, pastel-based palette. I think I like the Laduree look for the moment, especially since they use colorful stacks of macarons as a border on the other side of this little square pamphlet.

And now, to decide what flavor to try next in my kitchen in the near future (it's still pretty humid). So far, I've done green tea + sweet red bean paste, and raspberry + cassis jam. I've been interested in making desserts with a taffy-like quality to them, and I wonder if the chewy meringue (I like it chewy, at least) and a taffy inside of CARAMEL (fancy sea salt optional) would have my name all over it. The other candidate, to borrow from Laduree, would be chocolate banana. I'll be sure to post hopefully successful results here! The macaron love continues here at KPN.

Yakushima

A Long Preface

Whenever I go to Japan, I'm more than happy to stay in the same parts of Yokohama during my entire stay. My grandmother and I can talk for days; I can see my cousins at their building whenever; I can meet with Naomi at Sakuragicho after she gets off of work and we can loaf around Isezakicho until the last subway train. Mordecai is not like this, not because he does not get along with these people but because he gets anxious to see new things. In the past, we've traveled in the general area to Atami, Kamakura/Enoshima, his host family's part of Tokyo, and we've both independently been to Hakone, Mt. Fuji, as well as Osaka and Kyoto. For this year's trip, Mordecai suggested that we travel to a completely different region. By a combination of process of elimination and an interest in The Natures, he ended up suggesting a trip to Yakushima. It's a small island off of southern Japan, a part of the Kagoshima prefecture of the island of Kyushu. Yakushima is probably best known for its ancient cedar forest, which served as inspiration for the holy forest in "Princess Mononoke." At first, I was kind of iffy about the trip, mostly out of ignorance. The description "UNESCO World Heritage Site" had, and to some extent still has, little effect on me; that is likely just some unpleasant form of American in me. But my cousins were also on board, and so once I got to Japan, my cousin Mai and I went to a travel agency to see how this trip would work out logistically and financially. It turns out that one must first fly to Kagoshima, then take either a 30 minute plane ride or a 2 hour ferry ride to Yakushima. It also turned out to cost a leg and an arm to embark on this trip, even in a packaged deal. Which is another way of saying, it was cheaper to go to Guam or South Korea than it was to travel within Japan. But I think the price tag is like that for a reason--you can't really "casually" go to Yakushima. You have to be invested in it in many ways. But I'll say it again: I'd go again, even with an unfavorable exchange rate.

Our schedule went like this: leave Tokyo on Thursday, hike in Yakushima on Friday, return to Tokyo on Saturday. Mordecai's main interest was the ancient cedar forest, the highlight of which is the Jomonsugi tree. It's supposed to be anywhere between 2000 and 7000 years old. They say: We don't know for sure because it would have to be cut down to have its trunk properly analyzed. I say: It is not our place to know its precise age, and that's not what is important. Or, I say: A real lady never reveals her age. Anyway, the hike/climb to see the Jomonsugi takes TEN HOURS, round-trip. So basically, we were going to Yakushima to sacrifice a lot of money and energy to pay our respects to a really old tree.

The Wednesday before our trip was the day that Mordo and I went to the Fujiko F. Fujio Museum. After leaving the museum, I realized that I wasn't feeling well--possible stomach issues, possibly aching all over, and possibly a little warm. This was alarming, and I tried to do my best to be really still and to eat simple foods. This was challenging because before returning home, we stopped at a Krispy Kreme ("Pure Banana" and Lemon Cheesecake are the best), and Denny's was the plan for dinner. Both of these institutions are finer in Japan than in the U.S. Plus, I had to hide my illness from my grandmother, as I didn't want to worry her. I could not find a thermometer in her apartment without asking so I never knew my temperature, but I took a slightly too hot shower for slightly too long and ended up feeling like my body was on fire. After not sleeping well or eating that night, I woke up still feeling pretty bad, and almost gave up, telling Mordecai I didn't think I could go. But after saying that out loud, some switch went off in my head, and I said to myself, I'M GOING TO YAKUSHIMA. So I took back my words and told Mordecai, "Nevermind. I'm going!" I thought I could at least opt out of the hike if I had to. I took some Advil and got as much of my stuff together and off we went to Haneda Airport. I was kind of hanging by threads, waiting for Advil to kick in, and Mordo didn't seem to be doing all that much better either. He was physically fine but probably worried that I was going to die trying to get to Yakushima, which is funny because although I was not well, it's not like I was on my deathbed, either. On the way to the airport, he dropped his wallet in the back of a taxi that left us for another appointment via a highway; this isn't so much a problem for identification as it was for the fact that cash is king in Japan and every yen was essential. Miracles happen though, as the driver had given me a receipt and I was able to immediately track him down. We also jointly forgot our best cameras (DSLR, zoom lens for it, Canon G9) and were left with the compact Sony camera and my iPhone (4).

On the way to Yakushima, I never really felt okay and I just kept worrying about whether I was going to be able to hike or not. What was annoying was that I felt somewhere in between barely being able to and not being able to hike at all, but I had no idea which way I would go. The illness was half-assed in this sense; it would've been easier if I had just a little cold or if I was straight up violently ill. But the closer I got to Yakushima, a combination of not getting worse and increasing determination led me to believe that barring some bad turn of events, I would go on the hike.

What's odd is that the first time I felt really fine was on the ten hour hike to Jomonsugi. It's like my body knew an epic trail was starting, and it whipped itself into shape. I survived it all on rice, rice crackers, biscuits for small children, and water. Once I got going on the trail, I was fine, and I was purely focused on the hike. Everyone in Japan calls Jomonsugi a "power spot," as though nature gives off a quasi-mystical and positive effect on people. Some of it is obviously psychological or even superstitious but I definitely felt like I had received some kind of will and energy, which did not originate entirely from within me, to move on and feel better in that humid yet lush environment. It also helps that my cousins are hilarious, especially Mitsutaka. Laughter really helps to heal. The hike itself was the point at which I began a slow but sure start to the recovery of my health. I was able to eat more on Saturday, enjoying the regional foods and desserts, and I was feeling much better on Sunday and on the flight home to Chicago on Monday.

The rest of the story here is filled in with photos. The Sony was totally sufficient, and the iPhone is never bad to have on hand. And in retrospect, though I saw hikers with DLSRs and Canon G9s (or G11s now), I would not recommend bringing a DSLR or even a heavy compact camera to this hike. Your focus is the hike and your guide, and while walking, you rarely have time to even look up, let alone stop and take a still photo! Anyway, here's our trip, including our brief stops in Kagoshima.

The Trip

We flew to Kagoshima from Tokyo, which takes about two hours. I've never flown domestically in recent memory, so I was amazed at how easy it was. No one ever checked my identification to see if I at least claimed to be the person whose name was on the ticket. We didn't even check ourselves in because my cousins did it for us. And Mordo's a foreigner! He had a bottle of water and a pair of scissors in his carry-on, and the security attendant politely asked to observe these items. She smelled the bottle's contents, measured the scissors, asked him not to take it out during the flight, and thanked him for his cooperation. She used honorofic forms for every question and comment. The End. Wow.

When we got to Kagoshima's airport, we had to take a bus to get to the city itself. When we arrived, this was the main street. I guess they don't have a train system like other major cities in Japan? And have a grassy trammy system? The bus looks like it's going to get on the tram rails but that's just a normal bus. 

Then we looked around what is reportedly the most bustling part of Kagoshima. 

I know this makes me seem like an immature city girl, but...this looks like a ghost town stuck in the 1990's, if that.

Kagoshima is known for their pork products (they are called "black pigs," which seem to be of the Berkshire variety), so we were in search for tonkotsu (pig bone broth) ramen. There was no way I was going to venture into a giant bowl of pig grease and noodles so while everyone had delicious ramen, I had rice and seaweed. Mordecai says that the ramen had a bacon flavor that he hadn't had before in tonkotsu ramen.

Before boarding our ferry to Yakushima, we had a nice view of Sakurajima, a little volcano that somehow sublty spews black ash on the surrounding area. I rarely see dirty cars in Japan, but I saw a few in Kagoshima and I guess it's because of the ash flying around everywhere. Our ferry, Toppy, took us to Yakushima in a couple of hours. It was a smooth ride; I got sea legs on the Sea Bass but had no problems with Toppy. We arrived at the Miyanoura port and took a public bus to the Yakushima Green Spa Hotel. Though the hotel is closer to the other port, Anbo, it was interesting to take the bus along the eastern edge of the island. I saw young students in uniforms and wondered what their lives were like on this tiny island. I asked someone at the hotel if there were any fast food restaurants, and she said there's a Mos Burger, but nothing else. Everything else is local, which I guess is just family-owned. Do the kids go to Kagoshima for fun? A 2 hour ferry ride must be a big deal. Kagoshima was uncrowded, but the true ghost town was Yakushima. It was raining a little, but still, there was little evidence of people!

Though there were moths to greet us in our room, I liked our hotel. The highlight may have been the food, which I was able to nibble on here and there. There was of course lots of seafood, and they were into their little shabu-shabu pots that steam vegetables and thin strips of beef. The star of this meal above was the "turtle's feet." Before our server explained what everything was, I thought, Hmm, these things here look like turtle's feet, gross. Then he pointed to them and said, "These are turtle's feet." But then he went on to explain that they are actually a variety of clam. Weird! But they were fun to open (like a nutshell?) and they were tasty.

Early next morning at the hotel, we picked up our breakfast and lunch bento boxes at the front desk, and we met our tour guide, Maeda-san. He drove us to pick up the last member of our hiking group, a middle-aged woman from Hokkaido (!) whose name we never learned. Mitsutaka declared her to be "Nishida," which I think is based off of no real information, but that is who she is to me now. Then we drove to the bus that would take us on a 35-minute trip up and into the island to the entrance of the Jomonsugi trail. The trail is so protected--only designated buses and taxis can go up to the trail entrance, so I imagine that it's easy to keep track of who goes in and out of the trail.

This is what happens when you try to take a picture while hiking. The first part of the trail is along these railroad tracks that were once used to transport cedar logs out of the forest. After about 2 or 2.5 hours, you begin a mountain climb up to the tree. You walk in a single file line, passing down cautions by voice to the person behind you. It was hard to stop and admire the landscapes, but Mordo did at one point to take this shot. A lot of the views of the mountains surrounded by clouds really reminded me of the opening scene of "Princess Mononoke."

There were a few bridges to cross, at least two of which did not have rails.

There are many other famous cedar trees along the way to see Jomonsugi. Below is the "Wilson Stump." I guess the older trees can begin their decline with a hollow trunk at the base, and some trees just fall over. The Wilson Stump is known for the view from inside. If you scoot into one edge of the stump inside and you look up, you should see one giant heart and a small one nearby. I had trouble at first and saw only the small one but backed farther into the edge and sunk lower to see the other giant one. Obviously, this is a hot spot for couples. Here we are in front of the stump.

And here are the hearts.

Mordecai shook his head at the hearts and called them a "gimmick"! Poor Wilson. Later on the way back, we stopped back in and found a couple trying to take a picture of themselves with the hearts in the background. I offered to take their picture, and I think they were pleased with the results, if I say so myself.

The railway tracks are mostly a reminder of how the forest was logged until about 1970, which is I'm guessing when environmental issues started becoming more mainstream and the UNESCO stamp was starting to be sought or acquired. It's kind of scary to think that this forest would be logged as much as possible, but perhaps not all that surprising in the pre-modern era. There was even a small town in this forest, complete with a school, that had to be closed around 1970. But the rails also indicate how the two restrooms on the trail are presently maintained. The first restroom is a "bio toilet," and the second restroom has some sort of plumbing system and is at the end of the rail track trail, before the beginning of the climb to the Jomonsugi. Beyond this bathroom, there is only one designated places to use "mobile toilets" that you can bring with you in the case of an emergency. And as with all garbage, you must bring your waste back with you to the trail entrance! I'm happy to report that the only waste I had to deal with was picking up little candy wrappers that other people had dropped. I don't know what a bio toilet is nor do I know how to use a mobile toilet, and I'm glad I didn't have to find out. My first name means "blessed" and I do not think this is a matter of coincidence. Thank you for the name and destiny, Grandfather Hotoda.

The climb up is hard. There aren't many rails, so you use whatever the forest offers you if you need it--rocks, branches, stumps. I remember the cedar branches and stumps I frequently used to hoist myself up stairs or rocks; they were so smooth and cool to the touch. I know how this sounds, but I felt like the forest was helping me climb to see the Jomonsugi. There were animals along the way, who coexist with the hikers pretty peacefully. We saw many white-tailed deer, a monkey, and a toad. The higher we went up, the mistier it got, as it rained lightly on and off. My cousins and other hikers were all decked out in waterproof "rainwear," or rain coats, rain pants, and a waterproof cover for their backpacks. Some people had hiking poles. Everyone Japanese basically looked like they had just come out of a photoshoot for the Yakushima tour guide magazines. I initially thought, Ooh, these people are super excited! and didn't think they needed all that. But it turns out I'm American in this respect--arrogant and unprepared--as my raincoat is apparently not waterproof; cotton leggings are comfortable but not ideal when they get wet; and my backpack was a fashionable backpack, but not one that could withstand 10 hours of off and on rain, even with an umbrella. Mordecai was in a similar situation, though he had a better raincoat. The one area where we did not mess up was with hiking shoes. I splurged and got these, and they were perfect. Did you know that hiking boots are ugly because they get dirty? I figured it out on this trip. Anyway, if you're going to Yakushima on this trail, don't play around with hiking gear and just get what is recommended.

After 2 or 2.5 hours of climbing, we finally got to the Jomonsugi. Look, a sort-of-smile from Mordo in the picture! That means he's super excited. 

No one informed me that there were Death Stairs right up to the tree! I was breathless when I saw the Jomonsugi because I thought I was going to die after walking up those stairs. But I was very happy to see it, too. Unfortunately, there are no variations of the picture of us in front of the tree where Mitsutaka's face is not covered by his sister's peace sign hand. And I don't know what's floating out of my pocket. Lol. 

Lots of hikers linger here for about ten minutes taking pictures. I saw young women with makeup on, taking pictures with the tree in the background. Makeup! How did it last?! There was also a tour guide who looked like an older, Japanese version of Sam of Wisconsin. Japanese old man Sam took a group photo of us and said to us, "Say, 'Jomonsugeeeeeee!'" to make us smile, instead of saying "Say, 'Cheese!'" (Did my best to keep track of use-mention distinction in case Real Sam is reading, or in case Japanese old man Sam is also an analytic philosopher.) 

There is our tour guide, Maeda-san, on the bottom left, and "Nishida-san," on the right.

Our trip package included this Jomonsugi tour, and Maeda-san was assigned to us through the Yakushima Guide Association. I don't know why he's not on the staff page, but he said he goes on this trail 2 or 3 times in one week. It turned out that he spoke English and knew a lot about various plant species of the forest because he studied biological conservation in England! I really liked hearing him speak English, because I could hear a British accent mixed in with the Japanese accent. He tried to translate various plant and flower names for us; if he didn't know, sometimes I knew the translations but most of the time I relied on my dictionary in my phone. It also turned out that he has a Shiba! He unfortunately had no pictures to share as he had just gotten a new phone, but I shared many pictures of Mitsu with him. He was also the first person I came across in Japan who understood my academic situation: here I am hiking on a remote Japanese island during my summer break when I should be working on my dissertation. He said he studied specific species of bats and mountain lions in graduate school, so I gather he wrote some thesis abroad. I barely can write notes for my dissertation in English; I can't imagine writing anything of that magnitude in a foreign language. If, when, I return to Yakushima, I hope Maeda-san is still there, so he can guide me to the Shiratani-unsuikyo Ravine, that served as the specific source of inspiration for "Princess Mononoke," or the many other places that one can explore on Yakushima. I couldn't bring myself to ask how old he was or whether he was married or lived alone with his Shiba ("Coco," I think its name was), but I wondered what his life was like. While we all had bentos that our hotels prepared for us for lunch, he had three giant rice balls. Did he make them himself? That was a lot of rice.

On the way back from the Jomonsugi, we ate lunch in the rain and we took the same trail down, yielding to hikers still on their way up. I was starting to become the slowest hiker of the group, so I was instructed to walk behind Maeda-san, which would set the pace for the entire group. This is when I realized that we all had been playing Telephone with our feet. I'd copy Maeda-san's light and knowledgeable footwork, and Mordecai would do what I did. If I bastardized Maeda-san's footwork, it would get worse behind me. Once we got back to the railway tracks, we all took turns to be pace-setters, which also provided an opportunity for everyone to talk to Maeda-san. Otherwise, our walk back would have been dead silent and a bit of a Debbie Downer. It was clear we were all exhausted and ready to sit down in a vehicle. When we saw the rail tracks end, it seemed that Mitsutaka was most excited to return to our starting point. It really is tiring, so much that you don't know what to do with yourself. The next morning, Mai could not stand up, and I had to show her how to stretch her calves and hamstrings to be able to function properly, especially to get back to Tokyo!

Before Maeda-san dropped us off at the hotel, he took us to a bridge where we could see the Ambo River flow from the mountains on one side, and head towards the sea on the other side.

Mordecai had been remarking that despite all the rain and humidity in Yakushima, nothing smells stagnant. The mountainous region must help to keep the water constantly moving. What I noticed was that these trees look like broccoli. I also saw these like, super giant hydrangea plant-trees on the way up and down the Jomonsugi trail entrance. It must be easy to grow and maintain flowers and vegetables with all that heat, humidity and water.

(Top row: flying fish sashimi at the hotel; tonkatsu in Kagoshima; me on a really old JAL plane back to Tokyo [those are earphones!]. Bottom row: Kagoshima raspberry, white peach, ramune macarons; Kagohshima's volcanic ash in the rain; shirokuma ice in Kagoshima [sorry for how it's cut off in the picture but I don't feel like fixing it]

On our way back to Tokyo, we went through Kagoshima again, getting tonkatsu (deep-fried breaded pork) for lunch. We also stopped at a mall where we all shared a giant "shirakuma" shaved ice dish the area is known for. It's shaved ice doused with condensed milk, and with random fruits stuck on the sides. I also picked up some macaroons--ramune, white peach, and raspberry flavored--thinking it couldn't be better than the Pierre Hermes ones I had in Shibuya and possibly the Laduree ones I had at Haneda Airport. I WAS WRONG! Kagoshima delivered hard. Those were some of the best macaroons I've had.

On the flight home, the time passed quickly. Mai slept while Mitsutaka, Mordecai and I devised a plan for them to come to Chicago and New York/Long Island later this year, even picking out dates (which I can't remember, lol). We parted ways at Haneda; hopefully the next time we see them is stateside.

In Conclusion
The trip was as epic as this post. Ordinarily, I'm not big on The Natures, but lately I've been getting interested with the dog, the garden, and now with Yakushima's entirely different environment. I'm also amazed that with the right attitude--mostly one of respect--The Natures can heal and energize. Unfortunately, I'm having difficulty thinking of an equivalent place in the U.S.--there's the Grand Canyon, the stuff up northwest like Yellowstone, and there are the Everglades in Florida, but nothing is really mountainous, humid, and rainy like Yakushima. Maybe on the Hawaiian islands? Ooh, I'll go there. I'd love to return to Yakushima. When I told people in Japan that we were going to Yakushima to see the Jomonsugi, they expressed envy. Our seniors, let's call them (e.g., Mai and Mitsutaka's mom, my grandma, my mother) were under the impression that only hikers and the youthful could go to Yakushima, but I read about plenty of other low-key things to do: bus tours to different sites, including watching sea turtles lay their eggs (or was it that the eggs hatch?). Mordecai joked about bringing back an ancient tree branch for Mitsu, and it would be crazy to ever bring Mitsu to any part of Japan, let alone a remote island (to meet Coco?!). But perhaps a human Mitsu or human Carleton would be lots of fun to bring along in the far future.