Japan: Explorations Down South

My calligraphy teacher is a serious badass. He's won tons of "best in show" awards in our region and has shown his calligraphy in museums in Tokyo. Usually, he teaches my friend and I each week, but today when I walked into our little classroom, I saw framed calligraphy pieces strewn all around the room, with a stack of loose papers by his side. He wanted to show us many of his own works. All of the thick pieces of paper had haikus he had drawn on them, and he probably went through 15 different ones, showing us each character and describing its meaning. They were all so...elegant. They bore only a few words, but carried so much meaning with them. Afterward, he asked us which our favorite was. I knew exactly what mine was, and when I told him, he happened to have a couple of signed "practice" versions in his stack that we got to keep! To me, the haiku represents the fragile life of something that at once was beautiful, but eventually meets its own end, falling back to earth.
             ___________________________________________________________________

This is the haiku, first in Japanese and then the translation:

さくらさくら

さくさくら 

ちるさくら

Cherry Blossoms, Cherry Blossoms

Blooming Cherry Blossoms

Falling Cherry Blossoms

___________________________________________________________________

And now, the last installment of pictures from the trip I took in January with one of my best friends. We went to Tokyo, Kyoto, Nara, Kobe, and Osaka for about two weeks. I live roughly eight hours by bus from Tokyo, and about twice that from all those other places we went. It was really fun and definitely made me appreciate Japan in even more ways. Enjoy the pictures! I am off to Thailand, Cambodia, and Malaysia next week, so expect something new when I get back. Until then!

Cameras: Nikon FM2, Nikon FM10
Film: Portra 400, Ilford Delta 3200


Previous: Kansai Trip, Pt. 1, Kansai Trip, Pt. 2

There are tons of awesome staircases in Japan.



This was when we went to see Justice in Osaka on our last night. Amazingly fun!



The friend I traveled with has the initials, "MK." Well, so did every taxi in Kyoto. It was like his kingdom. ...Of taxis.



Kyoto's International Manga Museum. It was FULL of every kind of manga and comic book you could imagine. And even more filled with heaps of people, of all ages, sitting around and reading comic books from the shelves, sitting on staircases, chairs, carpets, anywhere.





This is my friend, Michael's first time eating natto, which are fermented soybeans. They are pretty notorious in Japan for being the kind of food you either hate or love. It smells like a mixture of feet and blue cheese and the consistency is really gooey, as you can see.

This deer only had one eye.

This is Kengo. He was situated in the bunk beneath mine at one of our hostels, and while I'm sitting on my bunk, I hear my friend Michael casually ask him, "So, what's your name?" And from there we all chatted for awhile and went out together for the next couple nights. He was a cool guy.









-m :)

The Flower Man

I live in my own world a lot of the time in Japan. It’s incredibly easy to both be part of this country, and also separate yourself entirely, which I actually appreciate wholeheartedly.  I am nearing the end of January, reaching just barely past the six month mark of my stay in Japan so far. In March, the third year students will graduate and move on to high school. It’s something I’ve thought about on different occasions, but only from my perspective without really considering how everyone else feels. You see, Japan can feel a little emotionless sometimes. Or rather, that’s what I’ve heard. And now that I write it, I feel like it really is only that – what I’ve heard. Because what I’ve actually found is that most people really are expressive. When they’re tired, they’ll let you know. When they’re excited, they’ll throw their arms up and cheer. And when they’re both a combination of happy and sad, they’ll cry…or at least share a little wisdom as to how we can embody both the highs and lows in a single tear.

My desk sits directly across from the teacher in charge of the third-year-students. He is essentially the head of the department for these soon-to-be-graduates. He worked with these students for the past three years, seeing them come to Hiraka Junior High right out of elementary school, and watching them grow and flourish and now, strive to go to high school. And even though I’ve only been here for six months, it really is a magical transformation. In America (or at least where I’m from), you don’t have to do a whole lot to get into high school. In fact, I think you can fill out a couple forms and be on your way. It’s expected, and generally most junior highs have feeder schools that send everyone to the same school. But in Japan, it’s different. If anything, it can be compared to America’s college admissions. The students take rigorous tests, much like the SATs, they are scouted for sports, sometimes they have to do interviews, and overall, the stress and pressure is felt by everyone. Everyone wants to get into the best high school.

Today, a man wheeled in at least 50 potted flowers of all varieties. They were beautiful. In fact, when our paths crossed in the hallway, his hands grasping the cart, I said “kirei!” beautiful! He gave me a weary smile in response, hands still clutching his cart, slowly creeping past me. I let him pass and moseyed back to my desk. Sometimes things happen at my schools and I just…let them. Random things, like 50 plants showing up in the teacher’s room all of a sudden, or old ladies with clipboards circling the hallways. I don’t ask because I assume I won’t understand. But today I went for it. I asked the teacher across from me what all those flowers were doing here. It couldn’t hurt, could it? He reminded me that the graduation ceremony is coming up in only about a month and a half, which will lead to entrance ceremonies for new students and farewell ceremonies for teachers being transferred to new schools, as well as the inevitable beginning of spring. Where we live, it snows like mad. It can reach astonishing heights in a day. We’re almost done with the first month, but we still have about two more. Spring? It sounds so far away. But he went on. “That man brings the flowers every year so we can choose what we want to display around school.” The man I crossed paths with. The man with the half smile. “When I see him each year, I get a feeling,” he said with slightly broken English and a smile. “I know spring is coming,” he said. “Time…moves very fast.” And I knew exactly what he meant. 

Seeing that man in the hall was like a representation of time in its living form, wheeling flowers around and wielding half smiles. Perhaps the flower man’s response to me was perfect, then.

“Beautiful!” I’d said, to which he only gave me tired, upturned lip. The changing seasons, the continuation of life, it really is beautiful. But at times, well, a half smile is the best we can do. And maybe both of those things are exactly how it should be. 

And maybe that’s ok.