All good things must come to an end, they say. I"m back in good ol' T.O., very relieved to have the return leg of the trip over with. Door to door was about 24 hours, and after some preliminary web surfing and unpacking, I was fast asleep in bed by 1am.
So, final thoughts? My time in Japan seemed longer that it was. 12 days (10 really) gave me a healthy dose of Japan, at least the Fukuoka parts. My mom comments that this was probably just about right. Not long enough to be a bother, but long enough to want to stay a tad bit longer.
Overall, my experience was of course positive. I went almost 2 solid weeks speaking only Japanese, so my confidence with it, rather than any grammatical or vocabulary improvement, is much higher. I definitely want to live at least a few years there, and at this time, I think most of my energies will be directed in that manner. I think for now, editor's courses are on hold while I consider what my best strategy will be in order to realize my goals. Not really an epiphany or a wake up call, but more of a kick in the ass to get me out of my rut.
My mother's experiences were a little different. I'll go out on a limb and say she enjoyed herself, but she was far more anxious than I to get home. Perhaps because she was born and raised in Japan, perhaps because she feels that her years in Canada makes her unable to live in Japan anymore, but she felt more keenly than I the imposition upon our relatives as they rearranged their lives for 2 weeks.
She also brought up another point. My experiences in Japan, while in some ways unique, in some ways mundane, were entirely the experiences of an outsider, visitor, and guest. In an odd way, I was connected and disconnected from the world that surrounded me, able to move through it and interact with it, but in a sense never fully integrate with it. Making money for my daily bread was never a consideration; only the spending bonanza that comes with vacationing. I was opened to some of the harsher realities of my family ties, but shielded from the society as a whole.
At the risk of sounding philosophical or introspective, I wonder how this clashes with my own preconceptions of my heritage, or my place in a global Japanese community. I was acutely aware, even during my short time there, that I was indeed very much a foreigner. I can only wonder at what the Japanese store employees thought of this odd chimera of Japanese speaker and foreign mannerism. When some cashier fired at me a blur of Japanese point-cardism, I was more often than not left speechless, struggling to understand what I was being told. I must have looked like a moron when I turned helplessly to a relative, who in turn answered for me.
Thus I cannot deny a feeling that my proficiency in Japanese is both a great hinderance as well as an asset. A hinderance because my fluency and lack of obvious accent makes people expect that I am 100% able to operate in that society. I cannot turn to the easy crutch of a foreigner's face or skin-tone, or even accent as a way of indicating that I am not fluent.
The conflict comes then from my own positivist attitude and ability to adapt to my own circumstances. Until I opened my mouth, or failed to react to a question posed, I was for all intents and purposes a normal, if not slightly eccentric, Japanese man. I never felt out of sorts or out of place in Japan. In fact, I felt pretty damn comfortable.
While it may seem at odds with my earlier comments of recognizing my gaijin status in Japan, it isn't. Those of you who know me well might ponder over my seemingly care not to make waves with those around me, my attempts to ensure that people are seated around a table in a manner that ensure no one feels uncomfortable with their neighbours, or any other number of seeming trivialities that I engage in. These mannerisms are not because I am an overly sensitive man, but are rather a product of my being brought up with at least some Japanese values. While I realized that I was a foreigner, I felt comfortable knowing that such mannerisms were normal in Japan. While this is difficult for me to admit, for the first time in my life I was conscious of being part of a culture, rather than just living in one. What, exactly, this means for me in Canada I cannot say, for these are questions I have never really openly contemplated.
Another factor was made evident from what was certainly an off the cuff comment from on my relatives (I don't remember who). They remarked that, were I to come to Japan with obviously foreign friends, and display my ability to converse fluently in both Japanese and English, a listener might be envious of, and a little hostile to, me, thinking "Just who the hell does this guy think he is, showing us all up?" It is not a reaction I can explain on any intellectual level, but one I can understand at a subconsious level.
The conflict, therefore, comes to me in this form: will I be able to succeed in Japan as a foreigner without a foreigner's crutches to fall back onto? My fluency at both the language and the cultural mannerisms are a fragile facade covering a complex, multi-cultural, and ultimately Canadian, personality, yet that person could only be recognized and understood by someone who learned about my situation. My pseudo-Japanese appearance and speech will lead those I interact with to assume that I am in fact Japanese, and when my Canadian-ness asserts itself, they can reach only one of two conclusions. Either I am a grade-A moron, because even the simplest concepts like point-cards or payment plans elude me, or I am a better person than they are because I am more able, because of my fluency in English. Both of these conclusions arise from the fact that there are no obvious signs of gaijin-ness about me. They cannot, I think, re-evaluate their strategy from Japanese-interaction to gaijin-interaction mid-stride without themselves feeling foolish.
Regardless of what comes for me in the future, I can only hope that my positivism will carry me through it. Perhaps, much like at home, I can rely on the friends I make to help me weather the stormy channels of Japanese society. My situation is not unique in itself, as I know of many others who have made the same trek as I am contemplating, but it is unique to me.
Of course, all of this is moot until I graduate :P
This last post was a heavy one, but one I feel is necessary to complete my own personal journey in Fukuoka Japan. I hope that you have enjoyed reading it, for I truly enjoyed writing it. For the time being, this blog is at an end.
At the end of the day, I feels damn good to sleep in a bed again...
2/18/2005
2/17/2005
Time Travel
My last post from the Land of the Rising Sun. I'll leave off my closing thoughts until I'm back on Terra Canadiana.
A few points of interest, particularly regarding my cousin's daughters' names. First, no, Ulala is not named after the Space Channel 5 character, but a Japanese word, meaning warmth. Same, actually, with Honoka. Both names are meant to evoke feelings of spring-time warmth and sunshine. Beautiful names for beautiful kids. As an aside, Ulala, or can also be spelled Urara, Ulara, Urala.
A final day of hectic shopping left me tired mentally and physically. There was some shopping for other people (cough)Fran(cough). Mostly though, it was following my mom and her cousin through crowded shops looking for gifts for home.
After an early lunch with my mom's aunt and uncle, I had a chance encounter with a Buddhist Priest-in-training. He was standing there, chanting, and after a small donation, he blessed me. Actually, it was quite a to-do, as he stood behind me warding off evil spirits. My mom took this to be a very good omen.
While the shopping was long and by now very routine, I was fortunate enough to stumble across a small shop, called Unda Ground. It's one of those store which carries all those trendy fashion items that seem famous for those with an eye on the Asian beat. Sadly, with a price tag to boot. I did end up buying a wallet there.
On the way to meeting up with the mom, I stumbled across a display of Shinto ritual. Its a ritual performed in thanks to the Japanese pantheon. I do not know what is going on.
After most of our shopping, we ended up at a stylish cafe. Cheesecake and espresso, and on the way out, an store with an Engrish name:
We returned home after some 6 hours of walking the streets, exhausted and wondering how we were going to bring all these gifts home. Luckily enough, my cousin Miwa is a pro at packing.
Dinner was a rowdy affair at home, as the whole family showed up for a teppan-yaki dinner.
Here are some pics of the family.
From left to right: my cousin Miwa, my aunt Toshiko, my mother, Ulala, my cousin's wife Hiroe, Honoka, my cousin Makoto, and my uncle Kenji.
Pictured here is my grandma, one of the progenitors of my family tree.
And now, finally, we get to the point of this entry's title. I leave for Kansai International from Fukuoka at 2:15 pm on Friday, February 18th. After I arrive in Kansai and make the arduous trip to Vancouver, we leave Vancouver International at 2:15 , pm on Friday, February 18th. Thanks to astrophysics and timezones, I get to fly from Fukuoka to Toronto in 7 hours and 18 minutes.
It's going to be a long 7 hours...
A few points of interest, particularly regarding my cousin's daughters' names. First, no, Ulala is not named after the Space Channel 5 character, but a Japanese word, meaning warmth. Same, actually, with Honoka. Both names are meant to evoke feelings of spring-time warmth and sunshine. Beautiful names for beautiful kids. As an aside, Ulala, or can also be spelled Urara, Ulara, Urala.
A final day of hectic shopping left me tired mentally and physically. There was some shopping for other people (cough)
After an early lunch with my mom's aunt and uncle, I had a chance encounter with a Buddhist Priest-in-training. He was standing there, chanting, and after a small donation, he blessed me. Actually, it was quite a to-do, as he stood behind me warding off evil spirits. My mom took this to be a very good omen.
While the shopping was long and by now very routine, I was fortunate enough to stumble across a small shop, called Unda Ground. It's one of those store which carries all those trendy fashion items that seem famous for those with an eye on the Asian beat. Sadly, with a price tag to boot. I did end up buying a wallet there.
On the way to meeting up with the mom, I stumbled across a display of Shinto ritual. Its a ritual performed in thanks to the Japanese pantheon. I do not know what is going on.
After most of our shopping, we ended up at a stylish cafe. Cheesecake and espresso, and on the way out, an store with an Engrish name:
We returned home after some 6 hours of walking the streets, exhausted and wondering how we were going to bring all these gifts home. Luckily enough, my cousin Miwa is a pro at packing.
Dinner was a rowdy affair at home, as the whole family showed up for a teppan-yaki dinner.
Here are some pics of the family.
From left to right: my cousin Miwa, my aunt Toshiko, my mother, Ulala, my cousin's wife Hiroe, Honoka, my cousin Makoto, and my uncle Kenji.
Pictured here is my grandma, one of the progenitors of my family tree.
And now, finally, we get to the point of this entry's title. I leave for Kansai International from Fukuoka at 2:15 pm on Friday, February 18th. After I arrive in Kansai and make the arduous trip to Vancouver, we leave Vancouver International at 2:15 , pm on Friday, February 18th. Thanks to astrophysics and timezones, I get to fly from Fukuoka to Toronto in 7 hours and 18 minutes.
It's going to be a long 7 hours...
2/16/2005
The End Time Is Near...
Wow. I can't believe my Odyssey is almost over. While there's no doubt some influence from from the leisure of vacationing without worry at work here, I am only half looking forward to coming home. Home heralds a very busy school-work schedule, as I go into overdrive trying to finish a presentation and a paper. Well, reality is a harsh mistress. It will be very nice to sleep in a proper bed though.
Today was spent for the most part at You-me City, a sort of super-grocery store. You may have noticed that Japanese people have a penchant for calling shopping malls "cities". The only explanation I can offer is that is sounds trendy and self-contained, invoking a feeling that everything you need is right there. I realize now that I have no pictures of the grocery store itself, but there's a reasoning behind this. First, no chance for a location shot as we were in a car. Second, the place is just too damn big. Grocery store itself is a misnomer, as there are restaurants, and all manner of departments, selling clothing, stationary, housewares, toys, and even electronics. Conceptually, it's much more like a department store as we in Toronto might understand it. Walmart, perhaps, might be the closest thing to it.
What pics I do have are from the gaming centre, or arcade. Not the grungy-ass Yonge Street types, but the cleaner Scarlem ones, that cater to HKs and CBCs. I am, to a large degree, too old to be playing at an arcade...BUT:
This game is too much fun. No real need to explain why I find it so. Instead, some more pics.
And even a peanut gallery:
Just as fun, but far more interesting, was this game:
The point of the game is to hit the taiko drums in beat with the music, which ranges from simple folk/children's tunes, to pop chart toppers. A back ground in music is an asset, as it makes following 4/4 tempo easy. I made more mistakes thinking about when to hit the drum, as opposed to letting my instincts take over.
After lunch, grocery/gift shopping, precussion and double-tapping tangoes, we went out for dinner at the trendy Nakasu district of Fukuoka. Think John and Richmond, but with a greater lounge density. Nakasu is also famous for signs by the river front.
Dinner was okonomi-yaki, yam pancakes filled with all manner of goodness. Much to my own surprise, I was fine with the squid. On top of that, this kick ass place provided me with Guinness. Only down side? Only 1/2 pints.
Pictured above is my cousin, Makoto.
These last few pics showcase the apartment that my cousins live in. My grandmother is part owner of the land that the complex was built on, so as a result, her and her family's rent is stupidly cheap. I don't want to give figures, but its less than if 4 people went out to a good restaurant for dinner and drinks. A spot in the car park costs 500 yen per month. Or roughly $5. Like I said, stupidly cheap.
The building itself is 13 stories, and about 30 years old. My aunt lives on the 13th floor:
Yep, a button for the 13th floor. No silly superstitions about 13 here. But, 4 is an unlucky number, as it can also mean death.
And last, but certainly not least, the new girl in my life, whom I have named Hurricane Honoka:
Cute as a button. Maybe even cuter ;D
Today was spent for the most part at You-me City, a sort of super-grocery store. You may have noticed that Japanese people have a penchant for calling shopping malls "cities". The only explanation I can offer is that is sounds trendy and self-contained, invoking a feeling that everything you need is right there. I realize now that I have no pictures of the grocery store itself, but there's a reasoning behind this. First, no chance for a location shot as we were in a car. Second, the place is just too damn big. Grocery store itself is a misnomer, as there are restaurants, and all manner of departments, selling clothing, stationary, housewares, toys, and even electronics. Conceptually, it's much more like a department store as we in Toronto might understand it. Walmart, perhaps, might be the closest thing to it.
What pics I do have are from the gaming centre, or arcade. Not the grungy-ass Yonge Street types, but the cleaner Scarlem ones, that cater to HKs and CBCs. I am, to a large degree, too old to be playing at an arcade...BUT:
This game is too much fun. No real need to explain why I find it so. Instead, some more pics.
And even a peanut gallery:
Just as fun, but far more interesting, was this game:
The point of the game is to hit the taiko drums in beat with the music, which ranges from simple folk/children's tunes, to pop chart toppers. A back ground in music is an asset, as it makes following 4/4 tempo easy. I made more mistakes thinking about when to hit the drum, as opposed to letting my instincts take over.
After lunch, grocery/gift shopping, precussion and double-tapping tangoes, we went out for dinner at the trendy Nakasu district of Fukuoka. Think John and Richmond, but with a greater lounge density. Nakasu is also famous for signs by the river front.
Dinner was okonomi-yaki, yam pancakes filled with all manner of goodness. Much to my own surprise, I was fine with the squid. On top of that, this kick ass place provided me with Guinness. Only down side? Only 1/2 pints.
Pictured above is my cousin, Makoto.
These last few pics showcase the apartment that my cousins live in. My grandmother is part owner of the land that the complex was built on, so as a result, her and her family's rent is stupidly cheap. I don't want to give figures, but its less than if 4 people went out to a good restaurant for dinner and drinks. A spot in the car park costs 500 yen per month. Or roughly $5. Like I said, stupidly cheap.
The building itself is 13 stories, and about 30 years old. My aunt lives on the 13th floor:
Yep, a button for the 13th floor. No silly superstitions about 13 here. But, 4 is an unlucky number, as it can also mean death.
And last, but certainly not least, the new girl in my life, whom I have named Hurricane Honoka:
Cute as a button. Maybe even cuter ;D
2/15/2005
My World = Shopping
Can there be such a thing as too much shopping? I've been known to equate Japan as one big shopping mall, and the last 3 days seem to have reinforced this idea for me.
Oddly enough, I have relatively few pictures to show. Mostly, I'm just bad at choosing Kodak moments. But I'm also usually too busy being involved in the process of consumerism. So instead I will try to share what interesting nuggets of cultural information I've learned during my time here.
Of the first day of shopping, I have no pictures to show. Not only was my camera acting up, but it was damned cold where we were. A 30 minute car ride ended in a quaintly named shopping mall called Marinoa City (of course, not to be confused with Marina City, close by). Marinoa City is modeled after an American Shopping mall; stores built around a multi-story courtyard. Being Sunday, it was unsurprisingly packed.
Dinner that night was pizza from Pizza-la. I've always had this image of Japanese pizza being topped with all manner of strange sushi-esque items, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it now fairly similar to home. I can, I think, thank the evolution of the gourmet pizza at home for that. Surprisingly delectable was a creamy potato topping on one of the pizzas.
The next day was Valentine's Day. While the appeal for romanticly involved couples remains intact, the major facet of this day in Japan is the giving of chocolate, not by men but by women, to the loved ones in their life. It's also a chance for young girls to give sweets to someone they have a crush on, with the hope that their desires are acknowledged and perhaps even reciprocated a month later on "White Day#".
This is my cousin Makoto's youngest, Ulala. While for the most part, the Japanese health care system is similar to the American one (that is, user-paid directly), services involving children up to the age of 4 (6 in Fukuoka Prefecture) are free. Makoto's other daughter, Honoka has been sick with a slight fever and ear infection, which required several visits to the hospital.
The major planned event of the day was Cirque de Soleil's Allegria 2, playing in Fukuoka. It was a very good show, but not particularly unique in any Japanese sense. The return trip, to meet up with my mom and her cousins down town was more interesting.
Allegria was playing just down the walkway from Hakozaki shrine. Built in 923, it was razed and rebuilt a number of times, notably after the Mongol invasion 1274.
The first step in visiting a Japanese shrine is the ritual cleansing of the hands, as a proxy for cleansing the spirit. You take the cup from atop the fountain and pour water over you hands.
After that, you proceed to the shrine's Oratory, where shrine rituals are usually performed by Shinto priests. In this case, you toss some money into the collection box (out of frame), clap twice, bow you head, and clap twice again. This ritual is individual to most shrines, and is explained by a sign displayed for visitors.
More shopping followed, but again, this is fairly standard stuff. I'll end with 2 random images. The first is a really cool T-Shirt shop, which showcases the designed of up-and-coming designers. The next is a restaurant, I think. I just thought the big crab was cool :P
Oddly enough, I have relatively few pictures to show. Mostly, I'm just bad at choosing Kodak moments. But I'm also usually too busy being involved in the process of consumerism. So instead I will try to share what interesting nuggets of cultural information I've learned during my time here.
Of the first day of shopping, I have no pictures to show. Not only was my camera acting up, but it was damned cold where we were. A 30 minute car ride ended in a quaintly named shopping mall called Marinoa City (of course, not to be confused with Marina City, close by). Marinoa City is modeled after an American Shopping mall; stores built around a multi-story courtyard. Being Sunday, it was unsurprisingly packed.
Dinner that night was pizza from Pizza-la. I've always had this image of Japanese pizza being topped with all manner of strange sushi-esque items, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it now fairly similar to home. I can, I think, thank the evolution of the gourmet pizza at home for that. Surprisingly delectable was a creamy potato topping on one of the pizzas.
The next day was Valentine's Day. While the appeal for romanticly involved couples remains intact, the major facet of this day in Japan is the giving of chocolate, not by men but by women, to the loved ones in their life. It's also a chance for young girls to give sweets to someone they have a crush on, with the hope that their desires are acknowledged and perhaps even reciprocated a month later on "White Day#".
This is my cousin Makoto's youngest, Ulala. While for the most part, the Japanese health care system is similar to the American one (that is, user-paid directly), services involving children up to the age of 4 (6 in Fukuoka Prefecture) are free. Makoto's other daughter, Honoka has been sick with a slight fever and ear infection, which required several visits to the hospital.
The major planned event of the day was Cirque de Soleil's Allegria 2, playing in Fukuoka. It was a very good show, but not particularly unique in any Japanese sense. The return trip, to meet up with my mom and her cousins down town was more interesting.
Allegria was playing just down the walkway from Hakozaki shrine. Built in 923, it was razed and rebuilt a number of times, notably after the Mongol invasion 1274.
The first step in visiting a Japanese shrine is the ritual cleansing of the hands, as a proxy for cleansing the spirit. You take the cup from atop the fountain and pour water over you hands.
After that, you proceed to the shrine's Oratory, where shrine rituals are usually performed by Shinto priests. In this case, you toss some money into the collection box (out of frame), clap twice, bow you head, and clap twice again. This ritual is individual to most shrines, and is explained by a sign displayed for visitors.
More shopping followed, but again, this is fairly standard stuff. I'll end with 2 random images. The first is a really cool T-Shirt shop, which showcases the designed of up-and-coming designers. The next is a restaurant, I think. I just thought the big crab was cool :P
2/12/2005
Heaven on Earth
Not much in the way of story telling today, as the events relating to shopping are episodic in nature, with little reason for context, flow, or narrative. Instead, I will show you the a succession of pictures, and provide commentary for each. The pictures, at least, are in chronological order.
A picture of Fukuoka, from just outside my aunt's apartment. I don't know why, but I feel that this view showcases the stereotypical Japanese city.
Yodabashi Camera, an electronics shop that would put Future Shop to shame. Really, more of a shopping centre in it's own right, it's 4 floors of electronic bliss. Oddly enough tho, I only ended up buying batteries there, for my energy-voracious digital camera.
The Fukuoka subway system is a marvel of efficiency. In particular, I wanted to show the barrier that's in place to prevent people from jumping in front of trains. This is a fairly popular form of suicide in Japan, and all train drivers are told that at some point in their career, driving a train that runs someone over will probably happen. The arrows mark the locations of the doors when the train arrives at the station.
Inside the train there is not much to comment about, other than to mention how clean it is, a feature common to Japan as a country. No litter, strange stains on the floor, or grime-coated surfaces. The frequency of litter bins is truly inspiring. Props to my cousin, whose picture I pretended to take so as to not attract attention.
Heaven on Earth, thy name is SWAT. My cousins went to the trouble of researching military shops for me, and this is the result. For a crazy like me, it was paradise. Unlike the surplus shops I find in Canada, it was staffed by friendly, helpful people. It was clean and organized, and most surprizingly, very cheap. Located at the back was an airsoft section, with all manner of guns and accessories, as well as tactical gear and BBs. Once for me is truly not enough, and I will be making return trips there.
The swag from SWAT. Pictured here: A shoulder bag with leg strap from J-Tech, a M1A1 Thompson hi-cap magazine, a G&P BB-loader shaped like an IR strobe light, and an OD mesh scarf.
A picture of downtown Fukuoka at dusk.
Last stop for the night: the best noodles in town. Pictured are my mom and her cousins.
More to come tomorrow.
A picture of Fukuoka, from just outside my aunt's apartment. I don't know why, but I feel that this view showcases the stereotypical Japanese city.
Yodabashi Camera, an electronics shop that would put Future Shop to shame. Really, more of a shopping centre in it's own right, it's 4 floors of electronic bliss. Oddly enough tho, I only ended up buying batteries there, for my energy-voracious digital camera.
The Fukuoka subway system is a marvel of efficiency. In particular, I wanted to show the barrier that's in place to prevent people from jumping in front of trains. This is a fairly popular form of suicide in Japan, and all train drivers are told that at some point in their career, driving a train that runs someone over will probably happen. The arrows mark the locations of the doors when the train arrives at the station.
Inside the train there is not much to comment about, other than to mention how clean it is, a feature common to Japan as a country. No litter, strange stains on the floor, or grime-coated surfaces. The frequency of litter bins is truly inspiring. Props to my cousin, whose picture I pretended to take so as to not attract attention.
Heaven on Earth, thy name is SWAT. My cousins went to the trouble of researching military shops for me, and this is the result. For a crazy like me, it was paradise. Unlike the surplus shops I find in Canada, it was staffed by friendly, helpful people. It was clean and organized, and most surprizingly, very cheap. Located at the back was an airsoft section, with all manner of guns and accessories, as well as tactical gear and BBs. Once for me is truly not enough, and I will be making return trips there.
The swag from SWAT. Pictured here: A shoulder bag with leg strap from J-Tech, a M1A1 Thompson hi-cap magazine, a G&P BB-loader shaped like an IR strobe light, and an OD mesh scarf.
A picture of downtown Fukuoka at dusk.
Last stop for the night: the best noodles in town. Pictured are my mom and her cousins.
More to come tomorrow.
2/11/2005
SPACEWORLD!!!!
For maximum effect, you need to say the title in a 1950's sci-fi radio serial voice.
Friday marked the last day for me, for any sort of cleaning, and that mostly burning more garbage. My mother will stay at least one more day, before visiting the grave of a relative Saturday morning and returning to Fukuoka in the afternoon.
A note about how I spent my "leisure" time in Nishihigashi. With nothing to do and it becoming very dark fairly early in the evening, I found myself going to bed at anywhere from 8 to 10 pm. Consequently, I would wake up between 3 - 5 am, and usually just lie in bed until 7-9 am, where upon my day would start again. Mostly, I read a couple of comic books I bought at the train station before I left Fukuoka, or chatted with my mom or grandma. Thankfully, I'm back in civilized lands now, and will have regular access to internet and other city distractions.
About 10:30 Friday morning, my cousin Miwa and her parents came to the ancestral manse to pick me up. A quick introduction to my family in Fukuoka. I'm staying with my Aunt and Uncle, Toshiko and Kenji. Kenji is my dad's older brother, and the middle of 3 boys (the oldest lives in a city to the south called Oita). They have 3 kids, a boy and two girls. The oldest is Makoto, my childhood friend, but about 5 years my senior. He's now got 2 kids of his own, 2 girls 2 years and 11 months old respectively, named Honoka and Ulala. Second is Fumi, whom I never really got to know, a problem that exists even today. This is mainly because, as a girl and older than both me and my brother, she never really paired off with either me or my brother. Youngest is Miwa, whom some of you already met, is 2 years younger than me. Mainly because of her visit to Toronto in December and early January, and our fairly closeness in age, I've been hanging out with her a lot more. Lastly, my other grandma (dad's side) lives in the same building as my aunt, uncle, and oldest cousin (he lives next door). I'll be sure to snap pics of the family soon.
I'm still not exactly sure where Space World is in relation to Fukuoka. Something tells me north-east, but that's just speculation. The original intention was to go to Spaceworld, spend a night in a hotel, then return leisurely on Saturday. Sadly, the hotel was booked solid (it was a risk we had already known), so it was just Spaceworld for the time being.
What to say about Spaceworld? Well, for one thing, it could just have been easily named Aquaworld, or Termiteworld, or Genericworld and be relatively unchanged. Think half of Canada's Wonderland with a little bit of NASA thrown in, and you get the idea. All in all, rather uninspiring.
Cool names such as Space Shaker and Titan couldn't really diffuse the overall blandness of the place.
Still, the trip itself was fun, as any place with roller coasters will be. There were 2, Venus and Titan. Venus featured more curves and Gees, while Titan had one big 60 metre drop. I'll say this: hook me up for a roller coaster any time. Lots of fun and excitement, leaving me wobble-legged and mildly disoriented afterwards.
Here's a quick pic of me and my cousin:
Spaceworld closed at 5pm, so we were off, this time to a pleasant little attraction called Mojiko. A place name, it is historic in that is has many houses and buildings erected and designed during the Meiji era. The Meiji era saw Japan modernize almost overnight, and the frankly Victorian influences are clear in the architecture. Where are the pics, you ask? There aren't any really, as I didn't find much to be interesting. The architecture is similar in many senses to the buildings in Toronto. Head out to Queen and Victoria, and walk south east and you'll get the same effect.
What I did find interesting was Honshu, Japan's biggest island, just across the straits to the north. Visible in my pictures here is Yamaguchi prefecture (a prefecture is somewhat akin to a province or state), highlighting for me, just how small Japan is. Mojiko is about 45 minutes away by highway.
Friday marked the last day for me, for any sort of cleaning, and that mostly burning more garbage. My mother will stay at least one more day, before visiting the grave of a relative Saturday morning and returning to Fukuoka in the afternoon.
A note about how I spent my "leisure" time in Nishihigashi. With nothing to do and it becoming very dark fairly early in the evening, I found myself going to bed at anywhere from 8 to 10 pm. Consequently, I would wake up between 3 - 5 am, and usually just lie in bed until 7-9 am, where upon my day would start again. Mostly, I read a couple of comic books I bought at the train station before I left Fukuoka, or chatted with my mom or grandma. Thankfully, I'm back in civilized lands now, and will have regular access to internet and other city distractions.
About 10:30 Friday morning, my cousin Miwa and her parents came to the ancestral manse to pick me up. A quick introduction to my family in Fukuoka. I'm staying with my Aunt and Uncle, Toshiko and Kenji. Kenji is my dad's older brother, and the middle of 3 boys (the oldest lives in a city to the south called Oita). They have 3 kids, a boy and two girls. The oldest is Makoto, my childhood friend, but about 5 years my senior. He's now got 2 kids of his own, 2 girls 2 years and 11 months old respectively, named Honoka and Ulala. Second is Fumi, whom I never really got to know, a problem that exists even today. This is mainly because, as a girl and older than both me and my brother, she never really paired off with either me or my brother. Youngest is Miwa, whom some of you already met, is 2 years younger than me. Mainly because of her visit to Toronto in December and early January, and our fairly closeness in age, I've been hanging out with her a lot more. Lastly, my other grandma (dad's side) lives in the same building as my aunt, uncle, and oldest cousin (he lives next door). I'll be sure to snap pics of the family soon.
I'm still not exactly sure where Space World is in relation to Fukuoka. Something tells me north-east, but that's just speculation. The original intention was to go to Spaceworld, spend a night in a hotel, then return leisurely on Saturday. Sadly, the hotel was booked solid (it was a risk we had already known), so it was just Spaceworld for the time being.
What to say about Spaceworld? Well, for one thing, it could just have been easily named Aquaworld, or Termiteworld, or Genericworld and be relatively unchanged. Think half of Canada's Wonderland with a little bit of NASA thrown in, and you get the idea. All in all, rather uninspiring.
Cool names such as Space Shaker and Titan couldn't really diffuse the overall blandness of the place.
Still, the trip itself was fun, as any place with roller coasters will be. There were 2, Venus and Titan. Venus featured more curves and Gees, while Titan had one big 60 metre drop. I'll say this: hook me up for a roller coaster any time. Lots of fun and excitement, leaving me wobble-legged and mildly disoriented afterwards.
Here's a quick pic of me and my cousin:
Spaceworld closed at 5pm, so we were off, this time to a pleasant little attraction called Mojiko. A place name, it is historic in that is has many houses and buildings erected and designed during the Meiji era. The Meiji era saw Japan modernize almost overnight, and the frankly Victorian influences are clear in the architecture. Where are the pics, you ask? There aren't any really, as I didn't find much to be interesting. The architecture is similar in many senses to the buildings in Toronto. Head out to Queen and Victoria, and walk south east and you'll get the same effect.
What I did find interesting was Honshu, Japan's biggest island, just across the straits to the north. Visible in my pictures here is Yamaguchi prefecture (a prefecture is somewhat akin to a province or state), highlighting for me, just how small Japan is. Mojiko is about 45 minutes away by highway.
It was the batteries, I swear!
Two days of real cleaning were about all we could manage. This entry comes separately because it marked a change in tempo for me.
My grandmother's sister lives on an island called Oshima, a 10 minute bus ride and a 20 minute boat ride away. To give you a sense of direction, Fukuoka lies about 1/2 way along the northern coast of Kyushu. Nishihigahi is in the Kita-Kyushu (Northern Kyushu) area, close to the tip of the island, north-east of Fukuoka. Oshima is even further north, in the Sea of Japan. It is a small island, some 4 kilometers around, and home to about 800 people, most of whom are fishermen. My mother's aunt lives in a tidy house shared by her son and family.
While the visit itself was fairly routine, it ended in a tour of the island. The lighthouse and observation platform high in the hills, but my day was made by the discovery of a WW2 bunker. Set in the peak of a high hill, it commanded a view of the shoreline below. Three gun emplacements, home to long since confiscated or destroyed artillery and AAA, were interspersed with slit trenches for the riflemen that would have protected the outpost. The bunker itself was concrete, build into the hilltop, with a pedestal, perhaps for a signalling apparatus, or a pair of field glasses (binoculars), or perhaps even a machinegun. Below were the barracks and storage rooms. Standing in the bunker, looking out through the slit at the sea, I could almost sense the long departed soldiers that once manned this position, standing beside me.
By now, you must be wondering where the photos of this monument to war must be. Alas, I must relate what will no doubt prove to be the most regretably travesty of my trip. Below is the only pic I was able to snap, just before the batteries in my camera died. I, of course, had no replacements. It is taken from the lip of a gun emplacement, and out of view some 10 metres behind me is the bunker.
Truly, a sad, sad day...
My grandmother's sister lives on an island called Oshima, a 10 minute bus ride and a 20 minute boat ride away. To give you a sense of direction, Fukuoka lies about 1/2 way along the northern coast of Kyushu. Nishihigahi is in the Kita-Kyushu (Northern Kyushu) area, close to the tip of the island, north-east of Fukuoka. Oshima is even further north, in the Sea of Japan. It is a small island, some 4 kilometers around, and home to about 800 people, most of whom are fishermen. My mother's aunt lives in a tidy house shared by her son and family.
While the visit itself was fairly routine, it ended in a tour of the island. The lighthouse and observation platform high in the hills, but my day was made by the discovery of a WW2 bunker. Set in the peak of a high hill, it commanded a view of the shoreline below. Three gun emplacements, home to long since confiscated or destroyed artillery and AAA, were interspersed with slit trenches for the riflemen that would have protected the outpost. The bunker itself was concrete, build into the hilltop, with a pedestal, perhaps for a signalling apparatus, or a pair of field glasses (binoculars), or perhaps even a machinegun. Below were the barracks and storage rooms. Standing in the bunker, looking out through the slit at the sea, I could almost sense the long departed soldiers that once manned this position, standing beside me.
By now, you must be wondering where the photos of this monument to war must be. Alas, I must relate what will no doubt prove to be the most regretably travesty of my trip. Below is the only pic I was able to snap, just before the batteries in my camera died. I, of course, had no replacements. It is taken from the lip of a gun emplacement, and out of view some 10 metres behind me is the bunker.
Truly, a sad, sad day...
A Quick and Bloody End
You'll have to excuse the editorializing. Some of this was written well after the events took place.
After a decent night's rest, a 20 minute train-ride and 20 minute taxi ride put us at the doorstep of the ancestral manse. My grandmother lives in a small, amalgamated town called Fukutsu.
Essentially a single street lined with densely packed houses, Nishihigashi (the village proper), has no convenience store, grocery store, any kind of store, but does have a karaoke bar and a "love hotel" grandly named Palais Versaille (you can see it in this picture).
I don't have a lot of pictures to share of my grandmother's house, mainly because the depths of the disarray were almost too much to bear. Needless to say, cleaning the whole house was an impossible task. Even a neat-freak super cleaner like my mother was humbled by the sheer enormity of the task. The following pic is an example of a single room, probably the cleanest.
What's not evident is the dust and grime that coated every surface. Though I'm sure my mother was joking, there was more than a hint of truth in her comments of the house not being cleaned since she left to make a new life in Canada 30 years ago.
Our job started almost the minute we arrived, and consisted mostly of scrubbing, hauling, and burning. Piled about were all manner of boxes, empty or full of old clothes or junk, as well as an assortment of unused and forgotten appliances. The firepit that burned away the old and discarded, while not technically legal, helped us do away with things that would have made our lives all the more difficult had we had to find a place (even if only temporary) for them.
More surprising, however, was the cold. My vain pride in being born and raised in the Great White North crumbled under the onslaught of single-digit temperatures. In Canada, we face these kinds of temperatures without batting an eye, secure in the knowledge that we return to homes with central heating, R-value insulation, and warm beds. My grandmother's house had only the last, and a almost constant draft made life outside of the futon an almost unbearable affair. I can honestly say without hyperbole that I have never been so cold in my life.
There are of course coping strategies for the cold. A space heater, socks and layers, and hot baths all keep the cold at bay. The last proved interesting. In a Japanese bath, one cleans the body first before stepping into a deep bath whose water is reheated and changed only once every few days. The lack of a showerhead was disturbing, as it forced me to take what amounted to a sponge bath to clean myself. Remember that no part of the house is heated, and this includes the bathroom (literally in this case, as the bath is located on the otherside of the house from the toilet, just passed a kitchen that would give Ramsay a real nightmare).
Yet despite these deprivations, I'd like to state that ultimately, I truly enjoyed my time in this ancestral manse. For my whole life, my grandmother has been an almost hermitic creature, a mystery to me and a virtual stranger in my life. Yet over the course of 3 days in her home, I discovered a wonderful person, quick to laugh and ever ensuring that I was never for want of food or drink. On a more spiritual note, I visited the shrine where my great-grandparents' ashes are kept. After I left, I felt a little melancholy and introspective. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I was truly connected to spirits of my mother's ancestors, living and dearly departed. I am so glad that I was able, in a sense, to come home.
I'll end this entry with a few shots of the shrine, and various other sundry items...
After a decent night's rest, a 20 minute train-ride and 20 minute taxi ride put us at the doorstep of the ancestral manse. My grandmother lives in a small, amalgamated town called Fukutsu.
Essentially a single street lined with densely packed houses, Nishihigashi (the village proper), has no convenience store, grocery store, any kind of store, but does have a karaoke bar and a "love hotel" grandly named Palais Versaille (you can see it in this picture).
I don't have a lot of pictures to share of my grandmother's house, mainly because the depths of the disarray were almost too much to bear. Needless to say, cleaning the whole house was an impossible task. Even a neat-freak super cleaner like my mother was humbled by the sheer enormity of the task. The following pic is an example of a single room, probably the cleanest.
What's not evident is the dust and grime that coated every surface. Though I'm sure my mother was joking, there was more than a hint of truth in her comments of the house not being cleaned since she left to make a new life in Canada 30 years ago.
Our job started almost the minute we arrived, and consisted mostly of scrubbing, hauling, and burning. Piled about were all manner of boxes, empty or full of old clothes or junk, as well as an assortment of unused and forgotten appliances. The firepit that burned away the old and discarded, while not technically legal, helped us do away with things that would have made our lives all the more difficult had we had to find a place (even if only temporary) for them.
More surprising, however, was the cold. My vain pride in being born and raised in the Great White North crumbled under the onslaught of single-digit temperatures. In Canada, we face these kinds of temperatures without batting an eye, secure in the knowledge that we return to homes with central heating, R-value insulation, and warm beds. My grandmother's house had only the last, and a almost constant draft made life outside of the futon an almost unbearable affair. I can honestly say without hyperbole that I have never been so cold in my life.
There are of course coping strategies for the cold. A space heater, socks and layers, and hot baths all keep the cold at bay. The last proved interesting. In a Japanese bath, one cleans the body first before stepping into a deep bath whose water is reheated and changed only once every few days. The lack of a showerhead was disturbing, as it forced me to take what amounted to a sponge bath to clean myself. Remember that no part of the house is heated, and this includes the bathroom (literally in this case, as the bath is located on the otherside of the house from the toilet, just passed a kitchen that would give Ramsay a real nightmare).
Yet despite these deprivations, I'd like to state that ultimately, I truly enjoyed my time in this ancestral manse. For my whole life, my grandmother has been an almost hermitic creature, a mystery to me and a virtual stranger in my life. Yet over the course of 3 days in her home, I discovered a wonderful person, quick to laugh and ever ensuring that I was never for want of food or drink. On a more spiritual note, I visited the shrine where my great-grandparents' ashes are kept. After I left, I felt a little melancholy and introspective. For the first time in my life, I felt as if I was truly connected to spirits of my mother's ancestors, living and dearly departed. I am so glad that I was able, in a sense, to come home.
I'll end this entry with a few shots of the shrine, and various other sundry items...
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