Japan via Los Angeles

September 13, 2005

Hayato was waiting for us when we arrived at the ferry terminal in Osaka and accompanied us by bus and train and bus again to the airport. The airport is actually located on a man-made island in the middle of the harbor. As we crossed the bridge to the airport on the bus, we were impressed with the municipal waterfront park that extended for miles along the harbor. As we spotted elaborate play structures, water features, sports complexes, and parkland, we were reminded of Eugene’s large riverfront parks—Alton Baker and Skinner Butte parks—and RiverPlay, and I wondered how progress on Eugene’s first regional playground was coming along. Once again, we were saying farewell to a dear friend and boarding our flight to Bangkok.

September 12, 2005

Steve and I awoke early the next morning, showered and explored the grounds around the camp. As I mentioned before, evidence of the typhoon was pervasive and we had to be careful as we hiked the trail along the river which was strewn with branches and downed trees and in many segments had collapsed down the river bank. We passed several pools, waterfalls and steep ravines formed by the powerful river. I was surprised by a snake directly on the path in front of me that fortunately slithered quickly away before I stepped on it! On our way back to camp, we encountered an old Japanese couple carrying large baskets for collecting fish and berries. We greeted them with our minimal Japanese—“Ohio,” or Good Morning.

By the time we returned, the rest of the crew was preparing breakfast—yogurt, fruit, and a variety of Japanese breads—and once again we sat down on the floor, Japanese-style, to eat. Today, Kazu wanted to show us the coast and we stopped at a beach town and walked across the bridge to the island of Aoshima, surrounded by a corrugated, natural reef. It looked as though Japanese characters had been etched in the reef but these intricate designs were actually created by the natural process of erosion by the ocean on this island foundation and the coastal sea creatures that burrow in these tiny nooks. We continued further down the coast and picnicked at the beach. During lunch, I had the opportunity to hear about Kazu’s vision to start a professional and cultural exchange program in Miyazaki where people from other countries and Miyazaki would visit and learn about each other’s countries and business ventures. He recently passed a test for the municipality of Miyazaki and will begin working for the city next spring. He believes that Miyazaki needs to better promote itself internationally and that this will most effectively be accomplished by the town becoming more aware of the rest of the world and the rest of the world becoming more aware of the many attractions Miyazaki has to offer. We were very supportive of his idea and let him know we would do anything we could to support him, including mentioning his idea on our website. If you have any questions or leads for him, please e-mail him at: kazuhiro969@hotmail.com.

That afternoon, we finally met Kazu’s parents, Naotaka and Tamiko Kuroki, at their house and spent a heartfelt time getting to know each other and talking about Kazu, our main topic in common! There were many trophies on display. The vast majority of trophies had been won by Kazu for tennis; apparently, Kazu was the #1 player in Miyazaki for two few years straight! Steve recalled with some satisfaction that Kazu had beat him in tennis when they finally played together before Kazu returned home after his year of study in the U.S. Kazu’s father is a high school teacher and his mother is a chef for the public schools. We managed a broken conversation during our visit but enjoyed each other’s company never-the-less and I was emotional as we left them because of our intimate ties with Kazu.

We purchased some snacks for our dinner on the ferry that night and played a game of Frisbee in the park before heading back to the ferry. Our whirlwind visit to Miyazaki had come to an end and we needed to head back to Osaka to catch our flight to Bangkok the next morning. After another emotional farewell to Kazu and Yuta, we settled in for another night on the ferry.

September 11, 2005

As we approached the pier in Miyazaki, we could see Kazu waiting for us in the parking lot and how good it was to see him! We had heard so much about Miyazaki and his family when he lived with us for a year two years ago but it seemed so far away. Then just before we left for Japan, a typhoon hit Miyazaki and the island of Kyushu and we were unsure the ferry would even be running. Kazu had called us while we were with Hayato to tell us that our plans had changed once again and that unfortunately we would not be able to stay at his house because they did not have running water. He was also very disappointed because they had had to cancel the big party they were planning for us on the first night of our visit. I reassured him that the most important aspect of this visit was to see him, and, now, despite all these obstacles, here we were actually setting foot in his hometown! We were all very, very excited!

Kazu introduced us to his friend, Yuta, and we set off in two cars in search of breakfast. At the restaurant, we ambushed poor Kazu with all kinds of clarifying questions—Could we substitute coffee for juice? What did this combo come with? How much did this entrée cost? Did they have yogurt? As we had discovered in other Japanese establishments we had visited, the Japanese are very rule-oriented; there were no substitutions or deviations from what is stated on the menu. Also, Asian breakfasts are very different than Western breakfasts. Most Asians eat a breakfast that resembles lunch—soup, rice and vegetables, even chicken, pork or beef. Between entrees and side orders, however, we were able to order an assortment of juice, toast, eggs, fruit and yogurt. Paul was entirely content with his mango fruit cup as we had not found ripe mango since Belize in July.

Before long, we were speeding along in our mini-caravan into the Miyazaki countryside. Our first stop was a Saki factory. My stomach was a little squeamish from the ferry ride in the open ocean but after a few shots of Japanese hard liquor (can't remember the name), my gut settled into a content state of sedated oblivion never to re-erupt with any stirrings of agitation that day! In the same complex was a glass factory, and we all watched the artists at work, several of them were collectively working on a large glass globe. I suppose the artistry sustains them as they work in these sweltering conditions with torches and ovens and other heating implements, compounded by the humidity of the ambient temperature. To create is arduous work; we watched the creative process for at least a 1/2 hour and by the time we left, they still had not completed the glass globe. Since tours of the Saki factory were booked for the day, we continued on our way to an adjacent country town, Aya.

As we drove through these outlying areas, we began seeing evidence of the typhoon that had struck the area just a few days earlier. Homes were emptied of all their contents; the streets were lined with piles of mats that are used to line the floors in Japanese homes, futons, refrigerators, TVs, and other belongings that had been destroyed by widespread flooding. There were still many people cleaning up debris; as we drove by, they formed striking tableaus, quietly sweeping their properties and patiently and diligently restoring order despite the widespread chaos the typhoon had wrecked. We saw garbage trucks everywhere, and garbage pick-up workers were working overtime to deal with the overflow. At one juncture, we passed a long line of trucks, waiting to drop off loads of debris at the local dump. In natural areas, groves of bamboo had been decimated by the storm and we saw plenty of evidence of the impact of the typhoon at the mountain camp we stayed at that night. The trails were littered with debris and there were many downed trees, the bank had collapsed on both sides of the river, and large portions of the concrete wall that had served as an erosion barrier along the river had been dislodged and strewn into the river bed. 

Our next stop was a castle high in the hills overlooking the small village of Aya. The castle named Ryu-o, or Dragon’s Tail, was the site of many battles during the middle ages in the time of the samurai in Japan. Among its conquerors were the Ito and Shimazu clans. At one time, the Ito Clan laid claim to the castle as one of its 48 strong line of fortresses throughout Kyushu. Amid this rich historical backdrop is a handicraft center featuring traditional crafts of that period—pottery, wood products, and textiles. Peter and Grandma Carrol settled in behind large traditional looms to weave, and Paul began molding a pottery mug out of clay. It was magical to watch them intent in the creative process in this peaceful setting, steeped in culture and history and surrounded by their Japanese friends, and to see their creations take shape. Peter used colors that matched our living room décor in Eugene and we plan to display his lovely weaving as a wall hanging when we return. Paul commissioned Kazu to write his, Yuta’s, and Paul’s names in Japanese characters on his mug. After being glazed and fired, Kazu will send him his mug to our address in Eugene.  

We wound our way through the museum, which showcased the clothing, homes, life style, and swords of the samurai and their families in displays on all levels of the castle, to the top of the castle. The panoramic view from the cupola observation deck was breathtaking and we understood why this had been such a coveted castle and surrounding territory. For miles in all direction lay the countryside in vivid relief—the red-tiled, ornate pagoda roof tops of the village dwellings nestled in the foreground and neatly outlined farms, verdant meadows speckled with majestic oaks, sparkling rivers, and mountains extending into the distance. Paul also spied a nearby baseball field where a game was being played and wanted to check it out to see if it might be a pro team. We crossed a suspension bridge over the river, rich with riparian vegetation, to the modern sports complex for the town of Aya. We discovered that the teams playing were from a local adult league but that didn’t deter Paul from asking players for their autographs. There were peals of laughter as Kazu translated Paul’s request and we could hear their quips about “Sure, I’m the next Ichiro or Matsui” or “Yes, I expect to negotiate a multi-million dollar contract,” or “Oh, you must be the scouts they’re sending from the U.S!” But, they were so flattered that they invited this young baseball enthusiast from the U.S. and his family to sit in the players’ dugout and watch a few innings of basically very mediocre baseball! Paul was thrilled none-the-less and despite the caliber of the play their autographs in Japanese characters look very impressive!

After lunch at a family restaurant chain called Joyfull that served inexpensive American and Japanese food (reminded me of Friendly’s on the east coast), we headed to an archeological site and museum in Saito. The museum was fascinating but the only interpretive materials in English were a small, overview brochure and Kazu couldn’t easily read the Japanese alphabet they used for their main interpretive displays. The museum was arranged in multiple levels and we were able to view an actual prehistoric cave dwelling from above and peer inside it through the protective plexiglass encasing. We were also able to see how the surrounding land had been shaped by massive volcanic eruptions and tectonic shifts and the route early humans had followed when they migrated to and inhabited the region in this fertile valley. Outside the museum were the actual ancient burial mounds, some excavated, some under excavation and some still intact. We visited one of the mounds that was restored after the excavation and crawled into the cave. The children climbed to the apex of the mound and had great fun as Kazu and Yuta chased them on the wall that surrounded the main burial mound and sent them rolling into these ancient relics. Yuta also lured them into the cave beneath the mound and shut the gate on them, a trick they tried to repeat on their mother but of course I’m just too shrewd (actually I’m rather gullible and ended up among the dripping cave walls contemplating prehistoric living conditions!). It was a beautiful, pastoral setting and the afternoon lighting made the surroundings particularly riveting, and, though I’m not an artist, the scene seemed to summon you to contemplate its beauty and portray it through some artistic medium… and sure enough, we encountered an artist with his easel doing just that.  

We stopped by a market to get food for dinner and then headed to our bungalow in the mountains. Kazu wasn’t kidding when he said it was in the mountains. We gained some serious elevation climbing high into the Tsubakiyama Mountains on a small, winding mountain road, ignoring two road blocks erected because of the typhoon after calling the caretakers of the camp and getting their reassurance that the road was indeed passable. It was late when we finally arrived at the camp but we quickly prepared our vegetables and chicken and the coals for the BBQ. Yuta’s father had loaned us BBQ tools and a couple of Japanese fans. We used the fans to very effectively nurture the fire and soon we were ready to begin stir frying our chicken and veggies on the special grill Yuta had brought from home. The last step was to warm up the already-cooked noodles and soon we were sitting on the floor Japanese-style around platters of roasted green pepper, onion, mushroom and chicken and dipping these roasted delicacies in a flavorful yakitori sauce (soy, garlic, and sesame seed oil). According to Kazu, in Japanese BBQ, you eat the food directly off the grill.

That evening we played Hit the Deck, a card game we had bought for Kazu for Christmas while he lived with us and had a great time teaching Yuta how to play. Kazu was busy translating the rules but ultimately we decided it would be easier to just play a few practice rounds. Yuta’s exclamations as the play unfolded were hilarious and he caught on very quickly, making sure not to be the last player to “hit the deck” after losing a couple of rounds. But ultimately our party was quite weary after a marginal sleep on the ferry the night before and quickly fell into a cozy slumber in the sleeping bags Kazu and Yuta had brought for us. I find out the next day that Kazu and Yuta had stayed up talking until late into the night. It turns out that we were the first Americans Yuta had ever met and he was very excited about having the chance to practice his English and pursuing the opportunity to go to the U.S. and study English.       

September 10, 2005