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Hello all and greetings from a very sticky Akune. Last night there was a rainstorm in the northern Satsuma region that may just have been the start of this year’s rainy season, or 梅雨 (pronounced, tsuyu). The commencement of the rainy season is an indication of many things: the rice fields are being planted; watermelons, pumpkins and tomatoes will be flooding through the supermarket in a matter of weeks (and due to the unbelievably high humidity will have an unfortunately short shelf life); and my first year in Japan as an ALT is coming to a close.

As opposed to entering into one’s first year, the transition into an ALT’s second year is a breeze; almost all loose ends (cell phone and internet contracts, insurance etc.) have been tied. However, for any ALT that requires a car for getting to and from school there is one factor that looms over the end of the first year like an impending research paper. That is, due to the fact that most international driver’s permits expire within one year all driving ALTs who re-contract must acquire a Japanese driver’s license.

Long, arduous, expensive and stupefying. These are just some of the words that I have heard from the people who have acquired a Japanese license and lived to tell their tale. To be completely honest, I was a bit shaken by these accounts, or should I say survival stories, and the loathing that still lingered in the hearts of the survivors themselves. But I am a good driver, I thought to myself, what could be so bad.

I do not have the best history with departments of licensing. When I went to get my license in Seattle I remember I was turned away because my Mother, who accompanied me to the DOL, did not have any document proving she was my parent-as if our faces weren’t enough proof. In light of my past experiences with the strict DOL, I thought I would take extra precaution in gathering my documentation as to avoid any further disappointment and a huge waste of time; the closest DOL that offers the driver’s test is in the city of Chosa, two hours south of Akune. Having pushed the haunting tales from my friends as far back in my consciousness as possible, I drove down to Chosa with all the confidence in the world. ‘What could really be so bad about the Japanese DOL, I have everything in order anyway, I thought to myself as I headed south on the mountain highways of Kagoshima. I presented my diligently compiled folder of documentation expecting to be able to the test right then and there. To my astonishment I was turned away due to insufficient documentation. What? In the end I learned that I was lacking the document stating the date on which I received my first license (yeah, the one I was almost refused of at the tender age of sixteen). I had no choice but to muster a smile out of my face, twisted with frustration, and tell The Man that I would be taking the proper steps to acquire the now ancient piece of plastic. I had underestimated the beast.

With all my documents gathered and my confidence returned, I took another trip to Chosa to meet my licensing fate. That day I was to take three exams: an eye exam; a written traffic knowledge exam; and the practical driving exam. I wasn’t nervous about the former two, but the latter certainly had me on the edge of my seat. I passed the eye exam. I got 100% on the written exam–granted it was made up of ten true or false questions that could’ve answered in my sleep-, but when it came to the practical test, I couldn’t quite get enough points, or at least that is what the stone faced proctor told me when I finished what I thought was a more than decent run of the course. Oh, the course.

The course is small and designed for failure. When driving the course, one must always: maintain a distance of 30 centimeters away from the white line on the left side of the road; hug the center line when approaching a right turn; do a full check of all mirrors and the appropriate shoulder before signaling and turning and when approaching an unmarked intersection (ie. a majority of the course); and, of course, maintain the speed limit. If one were to abide by the aforementioned rules and take a video of a perfect run of the course it would look like someone got behind the wheel after a bottle of shochu and left their signal on the whole time.

Ironically, as I nursed my sore next from all the shoulder checks I had done, the proctor shared with me how I could do better on my next test: do more shoulder checks. On the drive home from Chosa that day I pondered the three valuable lessons I learned that day. One being, the name practical test should be taken at face value. Also, if you want to pass the test and walk away without a neck-brace, you must be a relative of Gumby. And finally, a majority of the skills that one acquires to successfully navigate the course should immediately be forgotten, lest a tragic accident happen when leaving the DOL parking lot with your brand new license.

In other, navigating-related news, Captain Matsunaga finally finished preparing his boat, the Kamome-maru (The Seagull), for its periodical inspection that had kept it moored for so long. My readers, you must understand, the Captain has been talking about his boat daily for the past eleven months I have been here. So, when he gave me a call at 16:16 (one minute after I finish work) last Wednesday I knew that I needed to get a swimsuit and head to the Akasegawa marina, and fast.

The Captain



It was a beautiful late afternoon, the perfect conditions for Kamome-maru’s first voyage out of the port this year. When I pulled up to the port I saw a glow coming from the inside of the yacht. From the cabin emerged Captain Matsunaga smiling ear-to-ear; there is nothing like the relationship with a man and his boat. Within no time the ocean breeze was rushing against my face as I pulled ropes back and forth, tacking the sail to catch a mild southwest wind. We were heading for Akune Oshima (literally, big island), which sits about two kilometers off of Akune’s shoreline. After I took a short dip in the crystal clear water’s of Oshima’s swimming area, the Captain, totally in his element, decided that we would circumnavigate Oshima before heading back to the marina. As we made our way around Oshima, I saw, for the first time, Akune from the sea and an astonishingly fast flying fish.

Akune from the sea



The Captain out at sea



The northern tip of Akune Oshima, on our way back to Akasegawa



In light of my recent trafficking tribulations I would like to leave you with this Japanese proverb:

既往は咎めず (kiouha, togamezu)

Let bygones be bygones.

Ajisai (Hydrangea)

Another month, another mountain

Hello all.

I caught a fish in the river right next to my house. This fish is called a “chinu”.



It has been a pretty exciting month. I have experience the glory of Golden Week (the longest consecutive string of vacation all year), entered (and successfully completed) a bike race, climbed two mountains (safely), made a new set of dishes for my kitchen (out of clay) and rescued to French yachters (that were actually in no apparent danger). It's really too bad I only get paid to teach English.

Golden Week, the more hyped-up, slightly longer cousin of Silver Week, is the holiday to travel in Japan. Hotel packages and tours to Kyoto, Tokyo, Okinawa, Hokkaido and abroad are discounted like crazy and people sit for hours on traffic jammed highways just to get to there destinations so they can enjoy the 5-day holiday. In general I am a huge fan of being punctual, I follow directions I am given and enjoy making new friends. This does not mean, however, that you will find me on a tour of Kyoto with other butt-pack totting Golden Weekers. No. I chose to take my friend Eli up on his offer to enter a bicycling event in his fair city of Minami-Satsuma. If you can remember back to my post on 20 October 2009, Eli was the fellow who I met at nowhere else but the top of Takachihonomine (the mountain with the sword in the top of it).

On the first day of Golden Week I pack my things in my little AZ wagon and booked it down to Minami-Satsuma city where Eli happily greeted me. Since it was the day before the race Eli graciously took the time to tour me around his city and even take me to a beach for a nice little swim (the first swim of spring, in fact). It was just what I needed before the big day of the bicycling event.

Eli and I at the beach in Minamisatsuma city, the first swim of the season



When we arrived at the starting point of the course I was surprised to find nearly one hundred and forty participants giving their bicycles a last minute tune-up, stretching get their bodies loose or squeezing into their spandex uniforms. At the stroke of 10:00 exactly one hundred and thirty-five cyclists burst out of the gate and started a fantastic 40 km ride on what used to be an old local railroad track. The scenery was breathtaking and the feeling of being surrounding by so many avid bikers was thrilling. And what’s more, upon our arrival back to the festival grounds, the annual sand castle festival was in full swing. Score.


At the starting line of the Minamisatsuma city Cycling Festival



Kilometer 20 of 40.



Rest at the halfway point



Sandcastle festival (check this out Phil, Angkor Waaaaat?)



After coming back from Minami-Satsuma I only had three days of Golden Week left. ‘What to do?’ I thought to myself. That is when my phone rang with Badillo, and ALT from Izumi, on the other end asking if I wanted to climb a mountain. It was settled. The next day I found myself headed south again, only this time with new hiking boots (thanks folks), instead of a bicycle. The goal was to summit Kaimon-dake (924m), also known as Satsuma-Fuji for it’s striking resemblance to the iconic Fuji-san, Japan’s tallest mountain.

The sign-in station at the base camp of Kaimondake



Hiking shoeshit the trail on their maiden voyage



Summit



Victory pose




When Kaimondake finally came into view from the highway I was immediately nostalgic of my climb trip to Fuji-san. The conical shape rising gradually from sea level was the spitting image of old Fuji-san. I was pumped, but a bit hasty, because if I remember climbing mountains like this is not a walk in the park. Once we hit the trails, which were packed with hikers of all ages and nationalities, I knew it was going to be a challenging hike. At first the trail ascended gradually, wide enough just for two bodies, deep in the forest at the base of the mountain. Then, as I anticipated, the grade of the hike became immediately steeper and continued to do so until we reached the summit. The panoramic view was extremely rewarding and the pear chips I brought never tasted so good (thanks Dad).

A view from across Ikeda-ko (Lake Ikeda)



The second mountain climb of the month was a lot less strenuous than Kaimon-dake. Kanmuri-dake, Mount Crown, standing a mere 516.4m above sea level is a mountain with a very long history. More than two thousand years ago, a Chinese emperor seeking a medicine that would make him immortal sent one of his medicinal specialists overseas to the island nation of Japan. This medical specialist most likely landed in what is now known as Kagoshima prefecture. It is also said that during his search for his emperor’s desired medicine this doctor scaled the face of a mountain and left his crown atop its summit as a symbol of his accomplishment, hence the name, Crown mountain. Although the hike itself only took about a half an hour Kanmuri’s summit offered a great view of southern Satsuma and the weather was clear enough that we could see all the way to Sakurajima. I was so moved by the experience that, in the fashion of the ancient Chinese medicine man, I left my new pair of sunglasses on the top of the mountain. Unfortunately, I did this without knowing and suffered the loss of my fake tortoise shell glasses, let alone a very squinty descent.

The Chinese medicine man



Victory pose (I think this may have been when I dropped my sunglasses)



Victory dinner, grilled over coals with a spectacular view of the ocean



Victory soba with yama-imo (mountain potato)



In mid-November of last year I attended my first ceramics class at Warabe-kobo (Warabe studio) and had a wonderful reunion with handcrafting clay. Since that Saturday in late autumn of last year I have paid regular visits to Warabe-kobo: to say hello; to have coffee; to talk about school (the studio is across the street from one of my favourite schools); for the spring festival; to check on the new litter of baby kittens (way too cute); and of course for ceramics classes. At the beginning of May I attended a class and, with the help of Miki, Miwa and Mama (the three lovely ladies who manage studio), was able to turn out some pretty interesting pieces. I am surprised I was able to concentrate in the consuming presence of the cute kittens and one of my favourite students who also takes the class with me. As a result of my work, I now have a shelf full of dishes made by yours truly. Everything tastes a little bit better now, for some reason.

I am allergic to these



My recent projects



It was Friday afternoon, 28 May 2010. I was at city hall staring a hole in my Japanese textbook, waiting for the day to end so I could go home and whip up something to plate on my new dishes. On any normal Friday afternoon I would be at school. However, due to the annual Spring picnic my afternoon class had been canceled. When I was just about to finish my kanji writing practice I heard something from across the office.

「アッシャーさん、お電話です。英語を話している方なんですが。」
“Asher, there is a telephone call for you. Someone is on the line, and they’re speaking English.”

In a state of utter confusion I jogged across the office and grabbed the phone from my co-worker, equally if not more shocked than me to have to speak English at the office.

“Hello, we have come on a yacht from France and would like to stay in your port for three days. We are now moored on a blue pontoon. Can you help us?” said a worried voice with a heavy French draw.
“Of course, I will see what I can do,” I said.
This was the first phone call I have ever received in the ten months I have been in Akune.

After requesting a handful of phone calls the tourist branch, the commercial fishing branch and back again, I was able to get the required permission from the city that would allow these travelers in need to moor their sailing steed. It was at that point that one of my co-workers suggested that we go meet them, adding that from prior experience whenever he had greeted yachters before they had always been hospitable enough to invite him on their boat for a tour. Before I knew it I was riding in the front seat of the mayor’s car (despite the absence of the mayor himself) heading for the Port of Akune.

Helene and Remi emerged from the Kauana, their 25-meter yacht named, bleary-eyed with stress, but seemed instantly relieved to see that help was on the way. After giving them the good news that they had received permission to stay in the port for the weekend, they insisted that my co-workers and I come on board for tea.

‘The roomer was true all along’, I thought as I sat in the cabin of the Kauana sipping ice-cold tea that was just taken out of the on-board refrigerator. This yacht was one of the most impressive I had ever seen, let alone of the first ones I had boarded in my life. According to Remi and Helene they named their boat after a popular Tahitian name for girls. The Kauana had been built in Tahiti after the two had lived there for nearly 7 years. Two years before that was when they left port from France. Then they toured the Mediterranean Sea, crossed the Atlantic Ocean to Brazil, rounded Cape horn, and navigated through French Polynesia and Micronesia, finally settling in Tahiti. To say the least, the tales that Remi and Helene shared with us that afternoon made me want to pack a small bag a start another life, on the sea that is.

Once I returned to the office, I thought it was only appropriate to contact Captain Matsunaga. It turns out that Helene and Remi got a tip from an online sailing database to contact a one “Mr. Matsugana” if they ever decided to port in Akune. It turns out that this mysterious Matsugana-san is actually the Captain and that a previous yachter who was entertained by the Captain during their stay posted the information online. The Captain was quick to rush down to the port and meet Helene and Remi and obviously made a good impression, which led to a very interesting weekend. On Saturday Helene, Remi, the Captain and I were knee deep in mud planting Akune’s new mangrove, chest deep in an onsen in the mountains and, later at night, neck deep in cocktails.

The Kauana



Remi planting Akune’s mangrove



Remi and the Captain at Yukawauch-onsen in the mountains



Remi and Helene’s goodbye dinner, or at least one of the courses



The night before Remi and Helene departed the Captain called all of his friends to come see the Kauana



Remi and Helene’s visit made for an unforgettable weekend. It was so inspiring to hear their stories and the knowledge they had acquired along their way to Akune. And those who saw the yacht we certainly blessed with a one of a kind experience. With that I would like to leave you all with a more than appropriate Japanese proverb:

目の保養

A feast for the eyes.

Until next time.