Your fortune

The seven deities of good fortune, a decoding guide for my siblings.

Beauty in the everyday

Rumor has it these are often stolen. I can see why.
Origins: Tokyo, Kyoto and Beppu. Last two photos are courtesy of my father.

Lovely visit

Lovely visit with family yesterday, albeit minus Troy and Ian. Looking forward to catching up with them in the next few weeks and completing our 100 Things. Also uploaded Father's photos to my hard drive which brings our trip total photos to something like 5,000 taken over 15 days. We seriously rock. Father caught some great things I had missed, like the mochi shop in Takayama, and of course the adventures he and Mother undertook on their own. We'll add highlights as brand new entries rather than having you searching through the original postings (you're welcome!) over the coming week.

Progress of photo adds

Updates posted here as photos are added. Latest:
- Sayonara and Hello, added 4/26/07
- From Sea to (Monkey) Mountain [formerly Friday Highlights], expanded 4/26/07
- Lots of adds from 4/22 on the earlier Japan posts as well. Getting together this weekend to reminisce and hear stories, no doubt post-worthy. :) We're in the home stretch! Hope you enjoy.

FAMILY PHOTOS

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Mother, Fusako, Kuniko and Hiko
Beppu
April 11, 2007

Mother with Cousin Tsurue and her husband.

Fusako, Kuniko's husband, Kuniko's grandson Kouta, Mother, and Kuniko.

Delicious and elaborate feast.

100 Things We'll Remember (Update 9)

Our traveling group begins to weigh in on my favorite exercise: the 100 things we'll remember about the trip.

Keeping in mind these are quite definitely in no particular order....

1. Power lines. Lots, and everywhere. Bad bad bad for photos.
   
2. Shinkansen = FAST.
   
3. Kimono-clad women text-messaging on mobile phones.
4. Elaborate breakfasts and dinners with way too much food. Delicious miso soup.
5. Approximately seven trash receptacles in entire country. But plenty for bottle and can recycling.
6. Friendly, friendly, friendly. Very willing to help.
   
7. No snack food vending machines. Anywhere.
8. Decent umbrellas for 300 yen (about $2.60)? Yes! And thank goodness.
   
9. Except at the train station ticket counter, complete disregard for lines/queues.
   
10. Group individuality. (Hard to describe, but thinking about it....)
    
11. Thoughtful care of stray cats.
12. People on bikes can do anything, go anywhere.
13. Landscaping in the extreme, everywhere.
14. People take care to stay out of your photos, waiting patiently out of camera sight.
    
15. Disposable handtowels distributed everywhere but the lavatory.
16. Deep, relaxing baths.
17. When watching baseball on television, it's really about baseball. No annoying corporate sponsorship crap (a la Taco Bell Play of the Game). Well, except for the team names, which include their corporate owners, as in Yomiuri Giants. But fans and media often refer to them simply (ex: Kyojin (巨人), Japanese for "Giants"), and the viewing experience is relatively clean.
    
18. When watching baseball on television, a newscast may break in at any time. No matter what teams are playing, who's at bat, who's on base, what inning it is, what the count is, or even if the ball is still in play. We're not talking about special reports or breaking news. Just regular news.
19. Very few gas-guzzling monstrosities. It's good to be a country with small places to park.
20. Fish for breakfast, fish for lunch, fish for dinner. Literally more fish than can realistically be eaten, even if you like fish a LOT.
21. Anyone even suspecting they have a cold wears a mask.
22. Ueno Park at festival time is beautiful. Probably beautiful beyond festival time too, but we didn't get to see.
23. Delicious food.
24. Hill- and mountainsides are clad in a striking variety of trees. Texture, color, form.
    
25. Apologies are issued if the train will be even two minutes late.
26. Even without trash receptacles, the streets are generally very well-maintained. (Sadly, not so at the seaside town we visited, where the small beach and sea barriers were thick with trash.)
    
27. Culture of perfectionism: In Tokyo and Kyoto, everyone is immaculately coiffed, dressed and made up.
    
28. Value of outdoor spaces, natural settings.
29. Whatever you are doing in the city, you will probably be doing it with a lot of other people. I could be wrong, but it feels much more crowded than in other countries' big cities. Hoping it's just due to festival time... but suspect not.
    
30. Apparent national requirement to make the V = victory / peace sign when someone is taking your photo. Even in kimono, people have the peace sign ready.
31. Parking lots for bikes.
32. Tile roofs.
33. Really clear water, in rivers and in the bay.
34. Ahhhh.... futons.
35. Every place we stayed, whether full-service hotel or ryokan hotel, provided a full complement of toiletries including toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste, razors and travel-weight hairbrushes. Who knew?
36. Geisha paparazzi, and unexpectedly becoming one.
37. Mt Fuji from the plane is beautiful. And a near orange juice disaster from my parents yelling from TWO ROWS BACK to rouse me from full sleep and make sure we saw it.
    
38. Culture of perfectionism cont'd. All cars are new and clean. A morning walk finds several locals washing their cars.
39. High efficiency, modernity. Everything works - vending machines, ticket machines, turnstiles, everything is efficient and working. All trains are on time to the minute. (Except the one that was two minutes late.)
40. On the flip side of modernity is the honoring of tradition and old ways (like the abacus instead of the cash register, and tatami instead of linoleum).
    
41. Drink machines – every kind of drink from beer to soda to juice to tea to many kinds of coffee, both cold and hot. The latter can be a godsend when cafés are not yet open or nearby and you’re in a rush.
42. Bikers who can smoke and maintain an upright umbrella in the rain while negotiating turns, sidewalk traffic, and traffic signals at the same time.
43. Everyone is dignified. No beggars, no hawkers.
    
44. Although on the flip side, entering many establishments results in a loud and enthusiastic “ohayo gozaimasu!! (good morning)” or “irashaimase!! (welcome)” from every person who works there, in random sequence from when the first person notices you through the rest chiming in. It continues as each new person enters, which is somewhere between amazing and comical. And then there are the goodbyes and thank yous, which follow you out the door.
    
45. Tempura soba soup – yum. A strange concept – crisp deep fried tempura being placed into liquid which will make it soggy. But it’s a large nest of tempura that takes a while to sink and … yum.
46. Realizing that sushi / sashimi actually is kind of tasty.
47. Temples and … temple dogs.
48. Trying to find a specific restaurant when you can’t read kanji (the complex Chinese-based characters the name is written in on their signs).
49. Trying to order a meal when the menu is purely in Japanese. On multiple occasions the ploy of asking for a recommendation only led to a half hour of confused chaos or half of the restaurant’s customers being brought over to try to translate, a festive time for all. But the end result was always delicious!
50. Unexpected bonus: On the flight from Oita to Tokyo, Japan Air Lines shows live video of what the pilots see as they depart the gate and take off. Once in the air, the feed switches to a camera mounted on the plane's underside, so you see what is directly under you, albeit many thousands of miles below. Depending on the pilot's descent and landing technique, this can be a little too interesting.
51. Fourteen hours on a plane is rough. But it's better than a stopover.
    
52. Drinks of any type are served in very, very small glasses. Embarrassing to down five glasses of water before dinner is served.
    
53. Even the manhole covers are decorative.
54. As a party of six, our meals never arrived all at once or even close. Straight from the kitchen must be the rule. Fortunately, a hearty cry of "itadakimasu!" makes it okay to begin ahead of one's fellow diners.
    
55. For a nation of nuance and subtlety, we couldn't quite get over the flourescent lights in nearly every hotel, home or other establishment. Hard on the eyes.
    
56. Old style brooms in common use. Not the modern plastic or even "factory made" straw sorts. These are the small round bundle types and they are everywhere, from Tokyo shops to along the river by the river-keeper's shed.
57. Small bells and charms on cellphone wrist straps. I kept looking for kittens. Nope, just a middle-aged guy on his phone.
    
58. The oft-rumored battle of bowing is real... who is more grateful to whom?
59. Container gardens. Lots of lots of pots of plants.
60. Everything gets sealed with a small piece of clear tape. Packages are wrapped elaborately (origami-like). In the touristy shops, if purchasing what seem to be gifts, separate small bags to fit each purchase are included. Your change and receipt are presented to you with both hands, like an award.
    
61. City sidewalk space is organized and defined: bikers on one side, walkers on another, and a special strip to guide the visually impaired.
62. No graffiti. But public space for art.
    
63. Being secretly thrilled when someone told my mother they could see the resemblance.
    
64. Being told on day 14 of a 15-day trip that it's rude to rub one's chopsticks together to remove potential splinters. Argh.
    
65. Eel... a taste some tried to acquire, with limited success.
    
66. Nice outdoor area at Narita airport to sit, enjoy lunch and watch planes taking off.
67. The guy in a Tokyo office who would change pants at his desk every morning.
    
68. His coworker, who changed shirts.
69. Lots of rivers.
70. Beautiful cherry blossoms.
71. Generally healthy, fit people.
72. The crazy amusement park with the "house swings."
    
73. Cat on a leash. Nice.
74. Temples and shrines everywhere.
75. Clapping of hands to draw the attention of the gods.
76. Few people wear jewelry beyond a simple wedding band.
77. IKEA!
78. Super big ferris wheels.
79. The force of a passing bullet train.
80. Rickshaw runners, gardeners, others wearing the split-toe cloth 'boots.'
    
81. Delicate patterns on cloth, in landscapes, of food.
82. Moats and castles.
83. The fabulous Royal Saloon, a fine sedan if ever there was one.
84. Tremendous hospitality. On our laundry day, housekeepers at the inn brought a clothes rack and other hanging devices. They even hauled heavy wet jeans up to the roof to get the full benefit of the sun.
85. Kabuki on television at 5am. Way cool.
    
86. Pachinko. Tempting, but our under-18s were not allowed to go in. Which begs the question of how I not only got in but played for a few hours when I was twelve. Mother tells all: My good uncle paid the pachinko parlor owner to let me play.
    
87. On the fishing boat, there were bowls of chopped squid for use as bait. In each bowl was a pair of chopsticks for loading the bait onto the fishhook.
    
88. Okay, this one's a weird thing to remember, but I remember it, so... the current fashion is to wear footies or toe covers with dress shoes. These are not the sedate things from Hanes. Instead, these are intended to be seen and noticed. Mostly white lace with white shoes, black with black. But occasionally turquoise blue or bright pink. I can't wait until that catches on here.
89. Self-serve restaurants (fast food, airports, Starbucks) have a separate receptacle to pour the remainder of your drink. Your cup and other paper products go into a bin just next to it. This is probably more for ease of trash disposal than it is for recycling, but we can hope.
90. Not just motion-sensitive taps at the sink and air dryers for your hands... but also for soap. Have seen this occasionally in the States too. It might be BYOT (bring your own towel) in Japan, but this is quite the automated trifecta. I like this direction... if we can run it on solar.
91. 
    

More to come....

Sayonara and Hello

.At home and recuperating from a day of heavy travel home. We left Japan at 4pm Tokyo time Saturday, and arrived home at 3pm local time, still Saturday. Ah, the magic of time zones. A wondrous trip was had by all. In a month's time, perhaps we'll have managed to absorb just how amazing this trip was.

There's a lot of elaborating to do. I hope to update the past couple of days' postings shortly, as my head settles back into routine here. I'm also downloading a few thousand photos, ready to choose a few for your viewing pleasure.

Our last of several surprise visits this week was Aunt Kuniko and her husband meeting us at the Oita airport to see us off on the first leg of our journey home. Mother knew it was a possibility but had encouraged Kuniko not to come, as our flight was to leave very early. But there she was, determined to see her sister off. Very sweet.

It was absolutely beautiful in Oita and in Tokyo today, very warm and sunny. To arrive home in 51F semi-rainy weather was a bit of a let-down, but my flowers are liking it. The daffodils are over but the forsythia is still going strong and a couple of early irises are in bloom. Camellias continue to make a strong showing as they have off and on since January. Nice floral welcome.

But back to Japan.... I'm sure you didn't come here to read about flowers. :) More to come soon. If only I can keep my eyes open! And remember how to use a standard U.S. keyboard....

p.s. The geisha photo is obviously blurry, so you may not want to bother clicking to enlarge it. But I loved this moment as she looked upward and laughed lightly, maybe at all of us ungainly gawkers so unreasonably excited to see her. It seems fitting that she is blurry and a little surreal... not of this world.

From Sea to (Monkey) Mountain

[Formerly "Friday highlights."]

Speed blogging yet again. The last couple of days have seen an increase in foreigners and accordingly an increase in competition for laptop time.

Today began partly sunny, then all sunny and beautiful, then pouring down rain. We did a little sea-watching, a little shopping, and then spent the afternoon at the aquarium (surprisingly awesome) and ... ahem... at Monkey Mountain. With the monkeys. A LOT of monkeys. But very small ones.

Then a wonderful surprise visit from Aunt Fuchan!! Hooray!

Dinner at a little shop on Beppu's Ginza.

Will fill in details after packing. Sayonara for now.

****
After the fact: I managed to get Gary away from his futon this morning and down to the sea before 7am. The sun had risen but wasn't yet free of the clouds, which were fairly persistent.

The old marina in Beppu.

I remember these huge wave-breaker things from our first visit in 1977.

With the sun well on its way, though still mostly hidden by clouds, we met up with family for our last breakfast at the inn. Mother and Father headed out again on their own (will post their stories this coming weekend, once they divulge them). Gary, Troy, Ian and I eventually firmed up our plans to visit the aquarium and Monkey Mountain, with the basics (and a discount coupon) from the Foreign Tourist Information Office.

The simple fare system: Hold open your hand full of change, have the bus driver take what he needs. Universal.

Our first stop was the aquarium, which we very nearly skipped as I was disappointed to know they have just one otter, which seems unusually cruel. But other descriptions persuaded us and we were all game to go.

First, a disclaimer: I will admit that I've not yet been to the Monterey Bay or Georgia aquaria, and Baltimore lacks the density (probably a good thing). But for me, this was pretty remarkable.

Entering on the second floor, walking into a darkened room, this is the first thing we see.

A two-story "window" lively with grouper, rays, sharks, cobia, pompano, jack, eels... everywhere, there is size, variety and sheer quantity.

Around the turn, the grand view awaits. After some staring from as close as the velvet rope allows, I stand at the back of the room to take in two exhibits in one: fish, and humans.

A diver several feet below floor level, at the bottom of the tank, begins the work of scrubbing algae and general cleaning. His bubbles sort of botch my subsequent shots by disrupting the fish flow. But what a cool job.

In other rooms we find more fine creatures. A blenny living with a shrimp, starfish reminiscent of Spiderman, the Japanese giant salamander (billed as "the largest amphibia," seriously LARGE), a very juvenile spider crab, sea robins, gar, cutlass fish, anchovies/ silversides (aka small silver fish), jellyfish, squid, sea cucumbers, a dozen catfish jammed into the doorway of a dollhouse (?!), baby filefish, puffers, an interesting mix of eels living together in a cave with a couple of hefty grouper. Lush anemones draped over rock, clown fish flirting amidst the tentacles. Arty eagle and southern-type rays soar overhead as we pass through a clear tunnel. And one lone otter swims and plays by himself. (Herself? Couldn't read the sign, my lame refrain. Argh.) At least he was well-fed. His keeper washed the windows from the inside as we watched, not an easy job on a short ledge with a pushy otter bobbing about. That job seems pretty cool too.

In relatively short order (disputed by some) we find ourselves outside with walruses, sea lions and a few penguins, one of which is hell-bent on escaping by swimming through plexiglass. We briefly consider a way to set them free. Troy and Ian dodge the "touching pools" where the small sharks and rays look like they could use a holiday of their own.

With the afternoon fast drawing to a close, we head across the overpass to reach the base of Monkey Mountain.

A sampling of things you should not do to monkeys.

In my mind I recall artful photographs of monkeys relaxing in hot springs as snow falls, dusting their brows. For no good reason, these imagined monkeys are big. Substantial. Creatures from whom I'd gladly keep a distance.

The monkeys - macaques - we find at the end of the cable car ride up the mountain are small, petite. And numerous. We arrive at evening feeding time, and as the keepers scatter food, monkeys are everywhere, running within inches of us and filling their cheeks as fast as they can. The air is filled with the sound of paws sweeping the sandy soil and the hollow popping noise of hand to mouth.

There are at least ten monkeys in this photo. Can you find them all?

In truth, these photos do no justice to the scene of a hundred-plus monkeys fairly wall-to-wall at dinnertime. If anyone has a major primate hankering, I'll post one of those photos too.

Following the monkey extravaganza, we head back down the mountain to the bus stop at the bottom, where we have a rarity on this trip: a half hour to simply breathe. The wind has been vigorous all afternoon and now teases up white-tipped waves. We watch as a rainstorm drenches Beppu and makes its way across the bay to Oita. We are glad it passes us by.

Our return to Beppu is a bit bittersweet, as this is our last evening in Japan. Before returning to the inn, we stop at Tokiwa to find bright nylon "carp" for Father to fly at home. A short visit with Mother and Father brings a few of the stories of the day (future posting!) and then a surprise drop-in from Aunt Fuchan. It really is wonderful beyond words to see family here, and these unexpected visits are absolute highlights.

Aunt Fuchan doesn't stay long, and we soon head out for dinner. Pouring rain - but we are prepared and we make our way to little Ginza.

We find a narrow restaurant full of atmosphere and patrons. We count ourselves lucky to find room at the small bar, and are soon seated next to a pair of turtles in an even smaller aquarium.

The space crunch is more than made up for by that rarest of rarities: big drinking glasses. As in, more than six ounces. Maybe this is what is behind the popularity of beverage vending machines... something to drink after one leaves a restaurant.

Goofy photo, yes. But better than the other options.

This restaurant, we soon learn, specializes in steak. The menu is extensive and other dishes sound interesting, but we are discouraged from trying them by the chef. Hard to argue with the man preparing your meal. With no tempura or sukiyaki to be had, I opt for gyoza. Others fall for the steak pitch. Gaijin! In the end, everything is quite good and for the first time ever, we manage to finish our meals.

Thus and happily concludes our final Japanese dinner. We return to our rooms to pack our traveling lives back into now overstuffed bags, and make ready to form one last human daisy chain of people and luggage in the morning.

Thursday ends on a big high note!

Keeping this ultra-short as the lobby is crowded with people who no doubt are equally driven to blog.

Wonderful news! When we returned to the inn this evening after dinner, Aunt Kuniko and her husband were here in the lobby, waiting with smiles and presents. Mother was so surprised and glad to see them. Ah, family comes through again. Happy happy happy.

:D

*****
After the fact... a summary of Thursday.

Thursday was filled with laundry, fishing, and then a short snack together in Tokiwa's food court before setting forth in our own directions.

I don't know what this is. All I know is, it isn't Japanese. One of the guys guessed it might be Korean. Very spicy, very good, they report. [Juli confirms, it IS Korean! It is dol sot bi-bim bap. Thanks, Juli! Following the official food-ID, I found this via Google.]

I know it says Teriyaki McBurger, but really, I don't know what this is either.

Mother and Father went wandering about in search of old sections of town, while Gary, Troy, Ian and I did our own wandering, once again generally beach-bound.

Later in the evening, around 8 or 830, we had a happy coincidence as we all ran into each other at Beppu station. For dinner, we tried the place we'd visited earlier with Tsurue, but it was closed. Our second choice was a small Chinese restaurant where we occupied both available tables and enjoyed gyoza, shrimp tempura, General Tsao's chicken and other delectables.

And as giddily noted above, when we got back to the inn, Aunt Kuniko and her husband surprised us with a brief, wonderful visit. Joy all around.

Fishing and laundry

.
Okay, I was wrong. Cousin Tsurue and her husband left Beppu this afternoon. So we are on our own for these last couple of days. Mother and Father plan to go on their own tomorrow to the "old neighborhoods" to reminisce. And yes, Lyn, apparently the site of your birth is nothing like it once was. Apparently it used to be a parking lot but Mother says there is now a building and she can't tell what it is. Father says they haven't been back to the place yet so it seems the jury is still out.

Father, Troy and Ian left shortly after 930 this morning to go fishing. Gary went along to challenge his sea legs and enjoy being on the water in the sun. I assume they'll be back in the next hour. I hope! I gave Father SPF45 but any time at all in the sun is not good for him, especially refracted from the sea. Still, he has been very excited about it for months and I hope it is turning out to be everything he wanted it to be.

Mother and I are stuck here doing everyone's laundry. I can't convince her we should just wash what people need for the next two days and forget the rest. And I can't let her do it on her own. So here we are.

Catching up from yesterday... following my impromptu trip to Oita, we returned to the hotel to find Mother and Father with Tsurue and her husband. We eventually went up the street to a restaurant near the Beppu train station. Excellent tempura and something I don't know the name of. We watched Tsurue and her husband devour an entire fish, from end to end. It was thoroughly fried, so bones must not have been an issue.

I missed getting a photo of the Big Fish [confession: I didn't want my gaijin-ness to be so apparent], but the promise of our tempura was enough to draw me back out of my shell...

Following our lunch, Mother and Father came back to the inn to get ready for Aunt Fuchan and Uncle Hiko and left Gary and me "in charge" (ha) of Troy and Ian. After Tsurue and her husband returned to the inn, the four of us young ones (also ha) took a stroll seaward. We found several cats and many friendly locals. Then we found the beach, with lots of seashells (mostly broken), a few starfish, a sand dollar, and lots of breastbones of cuttlefish (those things we used to buy for our parakeets... ew). In the water were nicer things - lots of puffer fish, small anemones, mussels, and my favorite, chitons (EW).


We wandered back to the inn around 320, at which time my non-adventures with Uncle Hiko began. Mother, Father, Aunt Fusako and Aunt Kuniko returned from the family gravesite (visiting her parents, Uncle Muchi, his son Junya, and Uncle Norio) around 430.

After much reuniting, we retired upstairs to Troy and Ian's massive lodgings, aka the party room. It is a 21-mat room, so it was easy to fit everyone in. Uncle Hiko gamely lifted his shirt to show off not his seven broken ribs (impressive on their own) but the quite alarming scar on his back, signifying his formal exit from a gang.

Family help bind Uncle Hiko back up.

Photos (3): Family, by Ian Smith

Dinner was served around 715 and was the biggest yet. Sashimi, steak, sukiyaki, some egg custard with pork and ginko nuts, osuimono, gingered seaweed in a puree of some sort, and many other dishes. Desert was sort of a cream gelatin, very sweet. Photos were taken, good health was wished, and then family vanished as easily as they had arrived. The shock still hasn't worn off.

Photo: Dinner, by Ian Smith

Everyone slept very well (good futons and continued adjustment to the time zone - too bad we're about to head home), and here we are on sunny Thursday.

As for today, guys have returned from fishing. They estimate they caught a thousand small fish totaling a length of two feet. Okay, so most were on the order of 5-6" and one whopper which was 7". All of which went into the boat's holding tank, for some nefarious purpose (probably dinner) on the part of the captain. Troy clarifies: the holding tank was a plastic pail. From Ojiisan: This is a really soft deck... must be dry-rotted. Father also notes, he was disappointed no one hauled in a really big tuna. But everyone had a good day, with Father catching four or five and Gary catching rays (as in sunshine, not the fish).

Photos (4): Fishermen, by Gary

From the boat they could see Monkey Mountain and other peaks, and the shore too, as they didn't go that far. Gary enjoyed the view from the boat's bow. No one got sick. Everyone had a good time. Troy and Ian still smell like fish, but in a good way.

Now to encourage Mother to cease and desist laundry duty and come out for lunch.