On Leaving Japan

I am no longer in Japan and unfortunately I will not be returning to finish my semester abroad. I left on March 17th from Kansai International Airport for spring break, with the intention of returning for classes on March 28th. The latter half will no longer happen.

Traveling was exhausting. There were camera men all over the airport. As you can see from the photos below, it was incredibly crowded. All sorts of people, including many Japanese citizens, were leaving. We left on short notice and arrived four and a half hours early but barely made the plane. The atmosphere at the airport was overwhelming.

With a 22-hour commute, I flew to my uncle's house in Maui, Hawaii and met family there. The contrast in atmosphere was poignant, even surreal. Everyone around me had Japan on the forefront of their minds, but in a way we avoided the big elephant in the room, because we were exhausted from watching the news 24-hours-a-day, because it had all been so sad, and mainly because my family and I didn't want to make the decision yet on whether or not I would return. At the same time, a feeling began to sink in that I probably wasn't returning.

120 exchange students have left Kansai Gaidai. Now that my decision is made, everyone is asking me why.

I am blessed, as one of the lucky ones living in Japan, untouched (at least physically) by the ongoing crises. I don't know anyone personally who has lost their life or home. Still, each time I turn on the news it makes me ill and the faces of victims have an uncanny familiarity. I wish my study abroad experience didn't have to end this way. Yet I am lucky. So many have lost everything.

In crisis (even if it's happening miles away) there all sorts of side effects. Each individual must deal with their fears, anxieties, and emotions in their own way. Still I feel shame and sadness about leaving behind my Japanese friends, my international friends, my teachers, the country I've become attached to, and my study abroad. I am thankful to my friends who have been kind and understanding.

I'll have to make peace with the fact that I didn't get to say good bye to the people I care about. I will miss Japan everyday. But I am fine, unlike so many people whose lives are forever changed.

My final thoughts: whether you have stayed at KGU or whether you have gone (or whether you are neither of the above)...your decisions are your own, and I wish you peace in that which you have made.

Let's focus on what we can do.

Ideas:

* Donate to the Japanese Red Cross: http://www.jrc.or.jp/english/relief/l4/Vcms4_00002070.html
* Buy "Songs for Japan" on iTunes.
* Text 90999 to "Redcross" and donate $10.
* Start your own fundraising project and find the appropriate charity.

Kobe, China Town, & Reminders

The sun warmed the air on Sunday after a chaotic and mentally exhausting weekend. I pulled myself away from the news and met my friend in Kobe. The train station was packed on the way there and people seemed to be going about their daily routines. Shops were open for business, trains were on time, and women were walking around with shopping bags at the station.

Kobe was destroyed by The Great Hanshin Earthquake in 1995. As we walked through the new, strong, and bustling city, the sad irony struck me.

On many street corners young people shouted out, calling for donations for the country's disaster.

One of the Many Groups Calling for Donations

We came to China Town which was full of people.  There was a certain grave undercurrent however, as officials asked for donations in the central area.

Calling for Donations in the Country's Crisis

A Busy View of China Town and its Lanterns

China Town was abuzz, full of all sorts of street vendors, noises, scents, and food. It was refreshing being in the city in its lively state and seeing the Japanese people out and about supporting what was presumably a fund raising cause.  I had been glued to CNN, BBC, and Japan Today all weekend. The dramatic headlines felt and still feel so far away from what I experienced in Osaka and Kobe on Sunday.

A Man Selling Food at the Market

One friendly Kobe man asked where I am from. When I told him I am from the US, he wanted to practice his English. He told me his story about how once spoke six languages. He had gone through a head trauma and had to regain his speech and memory of language over time. I was impressed by how well he spoke English despite his modesty. He was kind and suggested that we try Kobe bread and coffee before wishing us well on our way...although I had always heard Kobe is famous for its beef.

At last we made our way down to the water. There we found a memorial site of the Hanshin Earthquake. It was a strange feeling to be standing next to earthquake remains nearly sixteen years old, just a few days after the monstrosities north of us. I pondered in silence on the immense aftermath Japan will feel for years to come.

Memorial Site of The Great Hanshin Earthquake

March 11th: The Earthquake and Tsunami

Thankfully Osaka region, where I live, was untouched by the 8.9 earthquake and resulting tsunami yesterday afternoon. Everyone I know is alright here, and things are perfectly in tact. Unfortunately, Japanese lives and homes have been lost in regions that were not as lucky, such as Sendai and Tokyo.

I sat at the computer editing photos when the room began shaking. At first I thought I was twitching in my seat, so I looked around to see if other objects in the room were moving...and yes, my towel was swaying on its hook, from an earthquake with an epicenter nearly 500 miles away. I have experienced earthquakes in Los Angeles and it didn't phase me. However, the movement continued for much longer than the average LA earthquake so I went into the hallway and stood beneath the metal door beam until it stopped.

Afterward I went back to editing photos, not realizing the enormity of what had happened. My aunt, Susie, called me at 3:49pm in a panic asking if I was OK after the "8.9 earthquake." She told me about  tsunami warnings issued all over the Pacific. I began receiving concerned Facebook messages shortly after and seeing status updates about the disaster. I had recently been on an anti-Facebook streak. But I must say that it was the most helpful way of informing worried friends and family that we were OK here in Osaka.

I sat at the computer and TV through the night, watching images of the growing disaster. The live images of the tsunami engulfing Sendai were jaw dropping and the subsequent tsunami warnings for the Pacific reaching as far as the California coast were baffling.

As the casualty count rises, this has been a reminder of Mother Nature's immense force.

We hope the worst is over. I have high hopes for Japan's resilience and strength in such times.

Image of Damage Caused in Sendai by Tsunami, Photo Borrowed From MSNBC.com

Kesenumma hit by Tsunami near Epicenter, Image Borrowed From Seattle Times

A Portrait: Junko Oyama

Jun Representing her Favorite Color and her Love of Frogs

Junko, more commonly known as Jun, was one of the first people I met in Japan upon my arrival in August 2010. She will always be part of my immediate impression of Japan. On my first full day, Jun, myself and several others went into Osaka city. Initially Jun and I couldn't say much to one another because of language barriers. We used mostly gesticulations to communicate. After that first day we continued to interact, often at night in our seminar house's communal floor bathroom during hair drying sessions. We slowly but steadily got better at one another's language, and now six months later I am able to interview her in English.

Junko Oyama grew up in Osaka near the Hanshin Tigers baseball stadium. Having grown up close to the stadium, she became a loyal supporter of the Tigers at a young age. She is now twenty years old, attending Kansai Gaidai University and living in the international seminar house. Jun moved into the seminar house because she is interested in foreign culture and in making non-Japanese friends, with whom she can practice her English.

Jun shares with me some interesting details of her twentieth birthday, otherwise known as Hatachi. Hatachi in Japan is a special coming of age day, as twenty is the legal drinking and voting age. It is customary on Hatachi for women to wear kimono, traditional Japanese dresswear. In fact, Jun's mother is a licensed kimono dressing teacher. Jun tells me there are no major rules for wearing kimono, but that most are tight like corsets and only allow the woman to take baby steps. Jun laughs as she explains to me that this doesn't bode well for eating a large lunch. According to Jun, women wear kimono to temples, for traditional occasions, or just for fun. She invites me to her house to try on kimono with her mother, the professional.  She tells me that it's perfectly alright for non-Japanese to wear kimono.

Dressed up in Kimono, Photo Courtesy of Junko Oyama

Jun explains her two favorite Japanese traditions: Hina Matsuri and Setsubun.

Hina Matsuri takes place on March 3rd. It is the festival of dolls; a special day for young girls. Each year parents give their daughter a doll on this day. Jun remembers how lovely it was growing up and having this to look forward to.

For more information on Hina Matsuri: http://farstrider.net/Japan/Festivals/HinaMatsuri/

Setsubun takes place on February 3rd. This holiday celebrates the coming of spring. Traditionally the Japanese throw soy beans from rooftops and windows in order to ward away evil spirits. Jun enjoyed throwing soy beans at her friend last Setsubun, who pretended to be a demon.

For more information on Setsubun: http://muza-chan.net/japan/index.php/blog/customs-traditions-setsubun

Jun's outlook on life is positive. She does not yet know what she wants to do in the future, but she laughs as she tells me how much she loves Japanese toilets (which truly are above and beyond ours in the west). She smiles saying that maybe she'll try to get work with Toto toilets, one of the luxury lines. In the meantime, she plans to enjoy her time at Kansai Gaidai and to improve her English skills.

Atsushi Sugimoto: Becoming a Young Entrepreneur in Japan

Atsushi Sugimoto, Image From Ski Day in Kifu, February 2011

Atsushi Sugimoto was born in Hirakata, Osaka. At age 24, he is the youngest of three brothers and the owner of a local Hawaiian-themed business called Nose Ride Cafe. He is also an aspiring photographer and DJ. Atsushi's path to becoming an entrepreneur is unique.

At an early age Atsushi was on his way to becoming a competitive skier, in fact he spent the majority of his youth training around Europe and North America. Unfortunately during his second year of high school, he got a back injury and had to quit skiing.

With this change of lifestyle, at age 16 he moved to Venice, California and took up surfing. After graduating high school there, he spent half a year attending Santa Monica City College, but alas Japan beckoned him home. Upon his return he enrolled at Kansai Gaidai University and majored in English and Education.  

Atsushi's parents were pushing him to find work, but his greatest goal was to become a photographer. In order to accomplish his dreams, he wanted a job in which he could be his own boss and design vacation time, as opposed to being in an office. Thus Atsushi began Nose Ride Cafe.

Nose Ride is located across from Kansai Gaidai and its Hawaiian inspired atmosphere is unique in the area. Nose Ride is a favorite stop for some Kansai Gaidai students. The bar has a program called Speak EZ, which offers English lessons once a week. Within the same building is a massage business run by Atsushi's brother. Nose Ride also collaborates with a local dance studio for hula dancing.

At Kansai Gaidai, Atsushi surveyed Japanese students about what their specific dreams for the future were. 80% of the answers to this question was left blank. Apart from running Nose Ride, Atsushi sees a niche in helping young Japanese experience travel and adventure and thus find a goal in life, as he did. 

Nose Ride Employees Posing for the Camera

Alex, Atsushi's Friend, Relaxing at the Bar in Front of Movie Projector

Surfing Party Held at Nose Ride

Neighborhood Hirakata

Every neighborhood has got its own feeling and sense of character.  Though the images in this post are without people, scenery can tell a lot about a place's inhabitants (and I promise there are plenty of people out and about).

Hirakata is different from the neighborhood I grew up in, in Utah.  Instead of a neighborhood embedded in clean little Salt Lake City, Hirakata is a country-like suburb of the massive Osaka.  It's got a quaint feel, and there are a plethora of hole-in-the-wall restaurants, small mom n' pop businesses, beauty salons, and convenience stores.  100 yen Lawson (similar to your average American dollar store, but with goods like seaweed, onigiri, and milk tea) may be the most frequented shop on my bike route.  

Since it's my second semester here, I must note that the differences I was once shocked by have become familiarities.  I have come to accept the poles in the middle of sidewalks as part of the scenery, rather than as intentional biking obstacles.

Every morning I bike to school from the seminar house.  The ride is pretty on a sunny day.  It can however be dreary in the windy February rain.  In the fall our neighborhood has tall rice stalks blowing in the wind, ready to be harvested.  In the winter, these become empty pits which resemble small swimming pools.  On the topic of harvesting, off the main roads there are small gardens to be found.  On a rain-free day, I often see one or two men working the gardens pushing soil about. 

Local Garden Near Contemporary Japanese Apartments

There are a multitude of apartments and some lovely Japanese-style houses to be seen.  In the seminar house we have access to clothes dryers, but most apartments that I pass have hanging clothes, as I've heard that dryers are uncommon in Japanese households.  Rain or shine, there will be underwear hanging outside the window.

Drying Laundry

On any given day, I will pass at least three to eight miniature dogs being walked by their owners.  I will also encounter quite a few fellow bikers.  I have frequently seen families biking together with groceries in their baskets.   

A Collection of Bikes for All Ages in the Neighborhood

I recently joined the neighborhood gym.  Though I have not seen any other foreigners working out there, I am fascinated by the half-sized treadmills and the bull-riding workout machines.  I am also quite in awe of the amount of elderly people running faster than I could on a treadmill.  In fact, a fair number of the people I pass on the bikes are elderly.  The elderly here are active, and it's impressive.  Could it be the fish and rice? 

The Neighborhood Gym, Viva

What is a quaint, cozy town without a Pachinko?  Pachinko is similar to a US casino.  I frequently pass this hot spot on my ride to school.  Sometimes there's a line out the door before it opens in the morning.  I have only stepped foot into the Pachinko briefly.  Inside it is extremely loud and smoky. 

Hirakata's Own Pachinko Corner During Traffic Hour

There's something very sweet about Neighborhood Hirakata.  The best part about living in Hirakata are bike rides like this:

Cloud Formation Near Sunset, Biking to Kuzuha

Hirakata Riverbank Near Seminar House

A Full Moon in Hirakata