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2011 was a rough year on us, in multiple ways. As we have been celebrating Japanese New Years traditions, Angela has been teaching about Resolutions to her English students. The Wanderinghokies resolutions include updating this blog more regularly, making a concerted effort at learning the Japanese language (at a rudimentary level), and to travel internationally more. We have a slightly bigger budget this year and plan on wandering throughout Asia when we have some time off. If coming to visit this year please let us know when, as we are trying to book ourselves solid!
Most people view pancakes as breakfast food, though IHOP and Ron Swanson might disagree. Since moving to Japan, we have eaten many random foods we would have never considered as palatable in the states. I can say, without a doubt, that we have definitely expanded our food horizons (and our definition of edible).
It seems like everywhere you turn in Japan, there are large food advertisements, enticing you and your taste buds to try something new. It’s great, but we still don’t always know what we are eating. Our recent food adventures have taken us to Okonomiyaki お好み焼き, which we have seen defined on many menus as “Japanese Pancake.” I’m not sure I would call it a pancake, although it is kind of flat and in the shape of a circle. Perhaps a thin, circular, grilled casserole would make for a more accurate description.
I’ll be honest….it looks kind of horrible. In fact, it looks kind of disgusting the first time you see it, so we have always avoided these okonomiyaki restaurants. This all changed last fall while we were in Kyoto. I think we were really just tired of walking, but whatever the reason, we stumbled into an okonomiyaki restaurant. What a pleasant surprise! It turns out we picked a good place to start eating okonmiyaki, as it originated in nearby Osaka. Though it is prepared differently in various regions of the country, the notion of the “pancake” remains the same. Basically there is some flour batter and you can add whatever you want to the dish!
We chose mochi, shrimp, and beef, and watched as cabbage and noodles were added as well. Some restaurants allow you make your own on a grill in the middle of the table, but we like paying other people to make our food. In any case we tried a new food that is delicious, and in true Japanese style, we properly drizzled our meal with a copious amount of mayonnaise!
Last night we went for a walk and took some pictures of a few New Year’s decorations in our neighborhood. Enjoy a tiny taste of our town as it celebrates the coming of 2012.
A local shrine decorated.
The fire stations shimekazari 標飾り.
A local restaurant celebrates extravagantly.
Our New Year’s shimekazari!
Last week, one of my students asked me if Shishimai visited us last year. I didn’t know what that was, so he explained it to me. Shishimai is the Japanese Lion dance, where a Red Lion dances to bring good luck in the New Year. And I believe to ward off bad spirits and to bring a blessing to your house. It is an Asian tradition, and varieties of the Lion dance exist in China, Korea, Taiwan, and Japan. They are pretty different in each country (based on my extensive wikipedia research). In our region of Japan, one person dresses as the Red Lion, but in other countries sometimes it is 2, 3, or 4 people. Last year, we had just moved into our house, but I remembered hearing the Japanese bamboo flute and drums. We were too busy moving in to really investigate further, and figured it was something happening at our local shrine. Apparently, it was Shishimai!
This year, I am excited to say, we were visited by Shishimai! We thought we would not receive the visit, as Jan. 1st came and went. However, on Jan. 2nd our doorbell rang and the Red Lion, along with a group of five or six musicians were at our door. James came running into the bedroom, yelled “Shishimai is here,” and I think I woke up faster than I ever have! I ran down stairs just in time. We tried to come outside, but they motioned us to go back in and then asked if they could come in. Before we knew it we had a red lion dancing in our house to bring in the New Year. AJ was not entertained and was a bit freaked out. It was awesome. Then someone with a mask came in and danced, but I’m not sure what that was. After it was over, we thanked them, and then they invited us outside to take some pictures. When we were outside, the Lion was trying to bite AJ, which I think means good luck. I wish I had been more awake, but it was still a great way to start the year!
At some point from August 2010 to August 2011 Angela and I were convinced to revisit the summit of Fuji-san. We had several legit reasons for going back, including getting our newly acquired shrine book stamped at the summit by a Shinto priest calligrapher, taking several Japanese friends on their own first hike up it, and since the great Tohoku earthquake we wanted to experience MORE of Japan. Only this time we would hike the mountain at night by moonlight to experience the sunrise from the summit. Not sure how we were convinced, or maybe we thought we were more prepared with experienced knowledge. Looking over our pictures from the first hike we somehow forgot how awful we felt and had not enjoyed the scenery from our miserable existence.
Being the nerd I am I spent hours researching which of the four trails to climb at night. I settled on the Subashiri route, as it is less crowded (fewer Tokyo tourists) and the trail is supposedly less steep. We organized the trip, eventually taking a group of 7 American and Japanese friends on a rental van from base to drive ourselves in order to not feel rushed and take our time. Angela and I figured we could outsmart Fuji-san by purchasing hiking poles for greater stability (these turned out to be worth their weight in gold, small victory) and floppy hats to avoid the morning sun. We purchased extra camel backs for water, head lamps for the night climb, and SPF 70 sunscreen. Again, I am not kidding how awful that sun was in 2010. Apparently that is all I remembered being horrid.
With little difficulty we drove the two hours to a parking field around on a sweaty August evening. We paid for round trip bus tickets to the fifth station and said good bye to the rental van… and caught a glimpse of Mt. Fuji laughing at us in the pink sky of sunset. The Fifth station on the Subashiri route is much smaller than the main one we visited in 2010, similar to a small hut. We all bought hiking sticks and ice cream and adjusted to the altitude for an hour by taking pictures with other hikers (a group of Malaysians were carrying patriotic flags to the top and loved Americans!). The place was starting to fill up with other night hikers so we decided to start off sometime around 2000, thinking we had plenty of time for a leisurely ascent to catch the sunrise at 0440 the next morning. Angela had found packs of emergency car glow sticks that were all different colors, so we hung them from our back packs. These were genius (another small victory!), as we could see everyone in our group as they walked up the mountain in the dark ahead.
After a few minutes we made it out of the treeline and into a moonlit, moonlike world. The hiking was good as the temperature was much cooler than muggy sea-level and we all made good time to the 7th station, get stamps on our sticks and staying together. At this point unit cohesiveness began to breakdown. The altitude was hitting me already much harder than the previous August. I felt very nauseous, but overcame it just as Angela came down with it. We broke down and bought compressed, canned air at the 7th station and pretended it helped (might be mental, I don’t know). We let a few from the group keep going as we could not keep up, and started the longest stretch of the night. One of our Japanese friends became REALLY sick from the altitude and could barely keep going.
Amazing to me that Angela and I had ascended the mountain in only five hours the year before, but the night started to drag on and hours went by. And it started getting busy in the mad rush to get to the summit for sunrise. Angela, me, and two Japanese girls ended up huddling at the third 8th Station (how many 8 stations can possibly exist?) in the cold pre-dawn sipping on Miso-soup waiting for the sunrise. We had made it pretty far, but there was no way we would make the summit. The other three in our group made a mad dash to the summit in waves and waves of Japanese.
The cool of dawn at high altitude began to fade away as amazing colors started appearing to the East. In the Land of the Rising Sun we saw the rising sun above the clouds and the Kanto Plain containing the largest metropolis in the world. It was sublime.
After sunrise we were feeling adventuresome and for some reason decided to make for the summit as we had come that far. Someone was smart enough to bring portable radios, so I called to our group at the summit to wait for us. The ascent from the 8th station to the summit was what I recalled from the previous year… war scene. You look up and everyone is lying down, exhausted and questioning their sanity.
I ran ahead and assembled our tiny band along the Torii Gate at the summit. We cheered heartily for our three women who made the trek to the summit, and got exuberant group photos taken. Angela and I had a mission at the summit to get our shrine book stamped, so paid homage to Fuji-san himself. Then we paid homage to our alma-mater and unfurled a Virginia Tech banner from the summit of Mt. Fuji for all the world to see, and take a picture. Tech Triumph.
Our stay at the summit was brief, but got the all-important “Sunrise from Mt. Fuji” stamp on our hiking sticks followed by expensive curry rice/ramen noodles and bathroom break. Remembering our horrible trek down the mountain last year Angela and I pulled our trekking poles and tried to ski down. We were slow and three members of our group raced down seeking to best the average time of 2 hours down.
This method worked for us stragglers until we reached the 7th station down on the Subashiri trail. This trail, while apparently less steep, is also known for a “sandy” descent. I had failed to notice this bit of news in my research on the trail… adventurous people use this route (personal FAIL). We learned that a “sand” descent involved the trail abandoning switch backs and heading straight down an old lava flow that had been smoothed out. Thus, one can run down the mountain bouncing on a foot of volcanic sand, taking a foot or two for each step. This sounds like fun right? Except there are still boulders in and under the sand, and our knees were about ready to die as it was.
So… we kind of slid on our backsides getting thoroughly dusty. At one rest point we sat and watched other hikers slipping and hitting the sand at a fast rate. Very entertaining. We even started making friends with other who were as miserable as we were. Once past the “sand luge from hell” we followed makeshift signs for the fifth station and the waiting bus to the parking lot. In the night we had missed the fact that the trail was literally a dry creek bed/lava flow and it never seemed to end. Dragging ourselves into the fifth station we slurped down some mushroom tea a nice lady gave us, feeling we had survived a battle. To add insult to injuries (Angela’s toenails were not going to make it again!) to get to the shuttle bus we were forced to walk up a hill… again.
We spent over 20 hours on that mountain this year, as opposed to 8 the year before. Yes the sunrise was breathtaking, but so are sunrises from beaches. Remember that. So, let it be known, please do not try to convince us to hike Fuji-san again. The mountain wins, let it.
We live within view of one of the most recognizable volcanoes in the world. Catching a glimpse of Mt. Fuji on clear days from our home or work elicits childish squeals as if we have never seen a mountain before. Tourist books for Japan say the locals consider it the most beautiful mountain in the world, and while pretty it is more ominous and menacing to me, considering that in the last eruption in the 1700s flaming boulders landed in the Kanto Plain where we now live. While the volcano looms ominously over our home, being adventurous people we saw the mountain and said we would climb it. Angela and I have always enjoyed hiking and did some research. Apparently Mt. Fuji is the tallest mountain in Japan, so high altitude hiking would be a first for us. Also, climbing season is only in July and August as those are the only snow free months at the summit, and it is generally too dangerous to hike at any other time. Foolishly thinking it would be a rewarding and memorable trip, we set out in our first summer to conquer the mountain.
We signed up for a trip from base that would drive us in the early morning to the Fifth Station of the Kawaguchi trail (most popular due a direct transportation link with Tokyo) and drive us back to base in the early evening. There are four main trails up Mt. Fuji and you traditionally start at the 5th station, about half way up. One bright, sunny August day we found ourselves at the large store at the 5th Station early in the morning staring at a variety of goods. To prepare we brought with us some basics for a day hike, mainly water and snacks so thought we had it covered. Forgetting sunscreen we purchased some cheap Japanese brand at the station store. Before we really began we had to buy wooden hiking sticks, about 5 feet of soft wood with flags, fabric, or bells (for pilgrims) adorning the top. At each station as you ascend you pay a small fee and have a stamp burned into the stick to prove that you made it to that point on the mountain. A great way to get tourists to spend, but those sticks are now dear reminders for us and will be prominently displayed in our homes forever, lest we forget.
Finally thinking we were ready we started hiking. We passed the treeline and found ourselves stepping into a red, dusty world with breathtaking views above the clouds. Soon we noticed scores of joyous hikers descending who had hiked to the summit in the dark night to view sunrise from the summit… supposedly a cathartic experience. They seemed really happy and we fed off the energy thinking the hike would be a lovely experience. We also noticed we were not in fashion, as Japanese love to wear neon colored hiking gear. It seemed like we were in a late 80s movie.
After passing the 6th station and getting our first stamps we felt great! Then we looked up… and the trail went from switch backs to nearly strait up. So we started slugging it out. Sure it was hard, but the hike can’t take too long, right? Tired, we crashed at the 7th station to pay for our stamps and to utilize the “bathrooms” (200yen for a squatting toilet!). At some point we started getting light-headed from the altitude, but it wasn’t so bad. It is odd though that we kept hiking to reach the 7th station. I swear we reached the “old” 7th Station, then the “New” 7th Station then the “actual” 7th Station. As if being able to see the summit WAY up in the distance wasn’t enough, we weren’t going very up in the numbers of stations… small victories.
After slugging along and setting ourselves up nicely for a great sunburn (so there is less atmosphere to soak up UV rays at higher altitude apparently…) we took a good break after the third 8th Station. We could literally look up and see the summit past the 9th station (which turns out to be a wooden Torii Gate for you to put some yen in). And yet SOMEHOW the summit was not getting any closer…
Once past the last 8th station there is no going back. The trails descending the volcano are behind you and the trail becomes crowded with large boulders and a high number of people trying to push up the mountain. It quickly bogged down to what I can only describe as an epic war movie scene. The high altitude and 4+hours of calorie burning join forces with an even steeper ascent to force everyone to walk a few steps then take a break consisting of lying down, sometimes in the trail (NOTE OF CAUTION: if you go off the trail you might fall off the mountain). Seriously. I was starting to get really lightheaded dizzying headaches if I didn’t pause every few steps. It took us a VERY long time to finally reach the summit.
At the final push to the large stone Torii Gate marking the summit there are stone steps to finally ease the hiking. As we finally made the steps we were met with applause and cheers of “Gunbatte!” (Go for it!) from those at the top. A final rush of adrenaline and WE MADE IT!.
The summit is a little strange in that there is a little town along the rim, populated by summer hikers and a Shinto temple. You can even mail a post card from there, and until recently a manned weather station was in operation as well. We paid an exorbitant fee to use the primitive bathroom and rested inside a hut serving ramen noodles and beer. Not feeling like drinking we had some ramen and took a ten minute nap. We were feeling good, exactly like we thought we would. It had taken us a little over 5 hours to get up, but had to start heading down to catch our bus (the base tour guides were rushing people, and we did NOT want to try to take mass transit after that long of a day). We took some pictures of the crater, which was still full of ice, some obligatory pictures of us in Hokie Shirts, and prepared for the descent, which, you know will be faster and easier, naturally. WRONG.
Descending trails are separate from the ones ascending, but do not have many amenities. No bathrooms, water, food, until you get to the 6th station. Apparently you are supposed to get the heck off of Fuji-san after conquering her. So we headed down along sweeping cut-backs with volcanic dust flying around. We tied bandanas around our faces but soon had trouble not falling. The trail was not rocky like the way up, but very sandy and steep. And if you fell off the trail, you would likely die, so it became really stressful. Then the downward pressure started to kill Angela’s knees. While trying to use her hiking stick as a oar against a dusty volcanic current she fell, and gave up, sitting in the middle of the trail. She stopped taking pictures or smiling… though the views of the surrounding clouds and mountains were stunning. I don’t think she talked at all for an hour, while we had trouble standing hoards of elder Japanese women plow through us and knock us over in a humiliating spectacle. Slowly we made our way… limping into the fifth station sweaty and dusty. We made it down in three hours, and had 15 minutes to spare before the bus left when we realized how ineffective the sunscreen we had used was. I was tired from the hiking and had an interesting sunburn for the next week. We felt and looked horrible. After a silent bus ride home we sought comfort food in the form of Big Mac’s and McDonalds, which probably made us feel worse, but they were delicious. Casualties included several of Angela’s toenails, which had bruised and fell off within a few weeks and lines across my face from some great UV exposure. Angela and I were eventually proud we had accomplished such a feat, but would not be hiking that volcano again, no way. No one could convince us to climb again as we always would have that memory.
The world lost another hero this week. This man never lacked for a good story and truly lived a great life. May Frank Weller’s memory live on, exemplified in the wonderful family he helped create.
Hello Kitty Popcorn machine a video by WanderingHokies on Flickr.
Two of my favorite things about Japan combined: Hello Kitty and awesome vending machines. We came across this amazing vending machine while “hiking” in the nearby mountains. Want a snack after your day hike? Why not try some Hello Kitty popcorn?!
Drum roll please…..we’ve made it to 30 days!! We hope you’ve enjoyed these 30 days of life updates, and we hope that it has encouraged you to think about coming to visit us in Japan! (*HINT*HINT*) I’m not really that subtle…
So let’s finish this 30 day blogging challenge off sweet with adventures in Kit Kat’ing!
Sakura Matcha Green Tea Kit Kat: A spring time cherry blossom specialty (that is actually sold at the airport year-round for tourists) that celebrates a blend of two uniquely Japanese flavors, sakura and matcha. It was very sweet, and mainly tasted like white chocolate, with a flavoring of matcha tea. The sakura flavor is very subtle and more of an aftertaste than full flavor.
Soy Sauce Kit Kat (Syoyu-fumi Tokyo Edition): This Kit Kat tasted very sweet, but not really like soy sauce. I’m not even sure how to describe it actually. Guess you’ll have to come to Japan and try it yourself!
Royal Milk Tea: Calling all European tea drinkers…this Kit Kat is for you! This tasted just like milk with a strong tea aftertaste. Any tea drinker would savor this flavor.
Cafe latte Kit Kat: FABULOUS if this coffee lover must say so myself! This Kit Kat made from Hokkaido milk tasted like strong espresso. Soooo good! And it came with an instant coffee drink.
Hojicha-Roasted Tea Flavor Kit Kat: (Itohkyuemon Hojicha – Kyoto Edition) Hojicha tea is actually a green tea that is roasted to a brown color. It is very bitter in flavor, and leaves your mouth very dry after a cup. I am not a huge fan of the tea, but I actually really enjoyed the Kit Kat. It tasted exactly like a cup of Hojicha tea without the dry mouth that follows. It was interesting how much of the roasted flavor you could taste as well.
Yubari Melon: This Hokkaido Kit Kat is also sold at the airport for tourists like myself. I am happy to say that James bought an entire box. The Yubari Melon is a specialty melon grown in Japan’s northernmost island that sell as gift melons. This Kit Kat is probably the closest I will get to experiencing the taste of the Yubari Melon. It tastes just like cantaloupe chocolate.
While we have greatly come to enjoy green tea since moving to Japan, we realized we didn’t really know anything about it. So in an effort to educate ourselves, we visited a green tea plantation in Shizuoka prefecture, an area that produces 40% of Japan’s green tea. Unfortunately, the tour did not teach us much about green tea, but we did get to pick our own tea leaves!
(If it wasn’t raining, we were supposed to wear these to pick the green tea. But it was raining…)
It was a rainy and yucky day, but despite the weather, the fields of green tea were still beautiful. I didn’t even realize green tea grew on regular looking bushes (that were perfectly crafted into rounded rows, of course). The first leaves of the spring are the most expensive, supposedly providing for the finest of green tea, and we were lucky enough to visit during the first harvest. Apparently, green tea connoisseurs will pay almost $100 a cup to enjoy the first leaves of the season, artfully hand ground into a fine tea. I guess green tea is a bit like fine wine, though I’m not sure I will ever be a connoisseur.
After the factory tour, our guide instructed us on how to properly pick tea leaves. We learned to pick the top four leaves, and the guides spent a significant amount of time explaining this to us. I think there must have been something lost in translation, because he seemed to be doing a lot of talking, and all I got out of it was we were supposed to be picking the top four leaves. Finally we headed outside and began to pick. The rain discouraged us from picking a lot, and I wish we had picked a bit more than we did. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as picking other things, because unlike picking fruit, you weren’t enticed to eat the sweet delicacies as you picked. Although they did encourage us to eat a leaf off of the bush and James did. He said it tasted just like a regular leaf. I believed him and declined the opportunity to eat a green tea leaf right off of the bush.
After ten minutes in the rain, we headed back inside with our little bags of green tea leaves to learn about the process of turning those leaves into green tea. We were given an awesome cup of green tea and a sheet of paper with directions on how to make it at home. That was the extent of our education on green tea making, but we did go home and give it a try.
We bought sushi roll mats, and equipped with our directions, we began steaming the leaves. After a good steaming, we ground/kneaded them in the sushi rolls for a few minutes until they started crumbling. Between each kneading (three total) we put the leaves back on the stove to dry them out. This took about 30 minutes per cup of tea, but I think it was worth it.
Steam, knead, dry, knead, dry, knead, dry….TEA! We burned our first batch, but the second batch turned out great! There is something special about drinking an amazing cup of green tea with the satisfaction of knowing that you picked the leaves and made the tea yourself.
