Nikkō

Thanks to the university choosing to celebrate the 50th anniversary of its founding by canceling Friday classes, we were gifted an extra-long weekend and made a trip to Nikkō. Located in Tochigi Prefecture, about three hours north of Kawagoe via local trains, Nikkō is a popular destination for viewing koyo, or “fall colors” thanks to its high elevations around picturesque Lake Chūzenji.

Day 1: Kanmangafuchi Abyss

We arrived Thursday afternoon amidst a light but steady drizzle. We caught a local bus to our ryokan, the Turtle Inn, alongside the Daiya River. After dropping our bags, we took a short walk to Kanmangafuchi Abyss, an ancient gorge formed by the eruption of Mount Nantai.

Along the way, we saw the beginnings of fall in Stone Park before arriving to a line of 70 stone Jizo statues. Known as “Bake Jizo” or “Ghost Jizo”, the Buddhist statue is believed to be the protector of children, especially those who pass away before their parents. The statues are a common sight in Japan, usually clad in knitted hats and bibs that are often provided by the grieving parents.

After our short hike, we went to Bell, a small, family-run cafe that features yuba—Nikkō’s local speciality—in a large set meal. Yuba is the skin that forms on the top of boiled soy milk and takes on the flavors of the surrounding ingredients much like tofu. Their delicious “Monk’s Diet” set featured six different vegetarian preparations of yuba.

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Lanterns hanging in Nikko Station advertise the local World Heritage Site

The outlined turtle on the sign of our ryokan reminded me of the Social Distortion smoking skeleton logo (Google it!)

Our Japanese-style room at the Turtle Inn

The path through Stone Park leads in Kanmangafuchi Abyss

The fall colors in Stone Park

The fall colors in Stone Park

Ready for the rain

Kanmangafuchi Abyss

A few of the 70 stone buddhist statues known as Bake Jizo, or Ghost Jizo

The changing fall colors in Kanmangafuchi Abyss

An old covered well in Kanmangafuchi Abyss

The Yuba Fest at Bell Cafe in Nikko. Yuba is the skin created when soy milk is boiled.

The shared bath at Turtle Inn. This was the smaller of two baths available for use.

Day 2: Senjogahara Hike

We were met with a misty rain on the morning of our second day as well. We boarded the bus for the hour-plus ride out past the north end of Lake Chūzenji. As we wound through the curvy mountain roads, the sky began to clear up, turning into a cool but pleasant day.

English-language maps are located all over town featuring useful guides to get the most out of a Nikkō visit. We chose the 6.3km hiking course from Yutaki Falls through the Senjogahara Marshlands ending at Ryuzu Falls. The course begins at the massive Yutaki Falls where those traveling by car stop before continuing on to the Yumoto Hot Springs.

After snapping a few pictures, we ventured out onto the trail, which mostly consists of newly-built boardwalks that keep your feet out of the muck while protecting the natural habitat from the thousands of daily visitors. The crowds thinned considerably as we moved away from the falls. The scenery is beautiful as it evolves from dense forest to the open plains of Senjogahara Marshlands. The scenery is framed by the nearby mountain range, anchored by Mt. Nantai, Nikkō’s answer to Mt. Fuji. We ended at Shobugahama Beach on the north shore of Lake Chūzenji before catching a bus back to the city.

That night, we headed toward the city center to find dinner. Although it was a Friday night, many of the restaurants were closed despite the streets crawling with tourists. While looking at cheap Ukiyo-e prints, we bumped into a couple from San Francisco who were looking for a nearby vegetarian restaurant (among those already closed for the night). We chatted for awhile and gave them directions to the place we ate the night before.

As we popped in and out of the other restaurants trying to find a vegetarian-friendly meal, we ran into them again. They’d been doing the same, showing their vegetarian travel card to every shop owner before being turned away due to the fish broth, or fish chunks or fish fish. This time they stuck with us and together we tried to find a place to eat. Thanks to TripAdvisor, we finally arrived at Maruhide Shokudo.

The hostess invited us into the small restaurant and started going through the menu with us in Japanese with a little bit of English. With a few modifications, we came up with a pretty good selection of food, including a teriyaki yuba burger—sort of like shredded roast beef—and yuba-filled potato and soy croquettes. We shared travel stories (they’d lived in Hong Kong and Sydney for short periods) and enjoyed the great meal with new friends.

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The torii for Futarasan Shrine Chugu-Shi, the shrine atop Mt. Nantai—known as Nikko’s Mt. Fuji

The changing colors on Lake Chuzenji

The bus stop for Yutaki Falls and the beginning of our hike

Amazing fall colors on the road to Yutaki Falls

The very-impressive Yutaki Falls

The wooden boardwalk on the Senjogahara Hiking Trail

The wooden boardwalk on the Senjogahara Hiking Trail

The wooden boardwalk on the Senjogahara Hiking Trail

Double-checking the map

A rest area along the Senjogahara Hiking Trail

The Senjogahara Marshlands, a wide-open plains area framed by Mt. Nantai, Mt. Taro and Mt. San’s-boshi from right to left

A bare stretch of the Senjogahara Hiking Trail

Seems a bad place for bears to hang out

The top of Ryuzu Falls, formed by the lava flow from the eruption of Mt. Nantai more than 7,000 years ago

Ryuzu-no-Taki, or Dragon’s Head Waterfall, is one of Nikko’s most iconic landmarks. We saw the same photo we took in restaurants and our ryokan.

The fall colors along Shobugahama Beach on the north end of Lake Chuzenji

Looking out from the boat dock at Shobugahama Beach on the north end of Lake Chuzenji

A kuzuryū (nine-headed dragon) fountain at Jokoji Temple near our ryokan in Nikko

Stone Cups Street features water pipes built in the early 1900s to bring water from a nearby spring. It’s said the water runs cold in the summer, but warm in the winter.

A house on Daiku-cho used by the carpenters who built Tōshō-gū Shrine in the 1600s

Shinkyo Bridge (Sacred Bridge) was built in 1636 and is technically part of Futarasan Shrine, about 1km away

An old cable car has been turned into a public phone booth in Nikko’s city center

Day 3: World Heritage Shrines and Temples

For our last day, we stayed in town to visit the UNESCO World Heritage-designated Shrines and Temples of Nikkō. Two Shinto shrines (Futarasan Shrine and Tōshō-gū) and one Buddhist temple (Rinnō-ji) make up the complex along with the large cedar forest surrounding the area.

Not unlike the shrines and temples in Kyoto, the Nikkō complex requires a ticket to get in. For 1,300 yen, you get a ticket to Tōshō-gū and entrance to the tomb of Tokugawa Ieyasu. Ieyasu was the founder of the Tokugawa Shogunate which ruled Japan for more than 200 years while laying the groundwork for the Japanese imperialism era of the late 1800s and early 1900s.

Unfortunately, both Tōshō-gū and Futarasan are undergoing major restoration work. Coupled with the large Saturday crowd, the shrines were a little disappointing, but it was still easy to see why they’re an important part of Japan’s history.

The most complete artifact of the complex had to be the Five-Storied Pagoda, originally built in 1650, destroyed by fire and then rebuilt in 1818. It uses a unique center pillar called a shinbashira for support which has long been thought to be the reason pagodas perform well in earthquakes. Over the past 1,400 years, only two pagodas have collapsed in earthquakes.

After a self-guided tour and a short coffee stop, we set out for another walking tour. The Takino’o Path heads up into the cedar forest, visiting some unique shrines and natural sights. It was a great way to escape the crowds at the shrines and enjoy one last bit of peace and quiet before heading back into the city.

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Outside the gates of Tōshō-gū Shrine

The fall colors pair well with the lacquered paint of Tōshō-gū Shrine

The torii leading into Tōshō-gū

Several wonderful examples of bonsai trees were on display inside Tōshō-gū Shrine

The three wise monkeys (sanzaru) at Tōshō-gū Shrine remind us to “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil”

Several wonderful examples of bonsai trees were on display inside Tōshō-gū Shrine

The temizuya pavilion (ceremonial hand washing) at Tōshō-gū Shrine

Several wonderful examples of bonsai trees were on display inside Tōshō-gū Shrine

The architecture and decoration of Tōshō-gū Shrine is one of the reasons UNESCO added it to the World Heritage list in 1999

The architecture and decoration of Tōshō-gū Shrine is one of the reasons UNESCO added it to the World Heritage list in 1999

Close-up of some of the ornate decorations that cover the structures throughout Tōshō-gū Shrine. Each are being restored by hand, including paint and gold leafing.

The Sleeping Cat (Nemuri-neko) of Tōshō-gū Shrine rests above the gate leading to the tomb of Tokugawa Ieyasu

The tomb of Tokugawa Ieyasu, the Shogun of Japan in the early 1600s. The Tokugawa Shogunate ruled Japan for more than 200 years, laying the foundation of the country’s imperial era.

The five-storied pagoda at Tōshō-gū Shrine. Each layer represents a different natural element—earth, water, fire, wind and void from bottom to top. A pillar in the center, common in pagoda architecture, is credited for the reason pagodas rarely collapse in earthquakes.

The torii leading to Futarasan Shrine. Founded in 767, the shrine is home to the kami/god of Mt. Nantai and stands as an example of the influence of Japan’s mountain culture from the 3rd-1st centuries B.C.

This little girl has likely just turned 3-years-old and is celebrating Shichi-Go-San (Seven-Five-Three). At age 3 and 7 (3 and 5 for boys), girls visit the shrine dressed in traditional kimono to wish for a long and healthy life.

The chinowa at Futarasan Shrine. The loop is made from intertwined reeds and visitors walk through the loop in a figure-eight (infinity) to purify and reinvigorate the spirit. It’s one of Japan’s oldest religious traditions.

The five-storied pagoda peeks through the trees

The sacred hall of Kaizan-do was our first stop on the Takino’o Path. The hall was built to cremate Priest Shodo, the founder of Futarasan. His remains are housed in a tomb behind the hall.

Next to Kaizan-do, a smaller shrine called San-no-miya is dedicated to safe delivery in childbirth. The tablets represent a Japanese chess piece called kyosha, which can only move forward in a straight line—not unlike the desired path of giving birth!

Stone Buddha statues, called Hotoke Iwa in Japanese, are located behind Kaizan-do under a cliff. It was said the image of Buddha was visible on the cliff, but after the cliff face collapsed in an earthquake, these statues were placed in the rubble.

Kitano Shrine was built in 1661 to enshrine a Heian Era scholar named Sugawara Michizane, now recognized as the God of Study. A large rock nearby called the Tegake Stone is believed to contain powers to improve scholarship and penmanship.

The gorgeous autumn leaves of Nikko!

The gorgeous autumn leaves of Nikko!

The gorgeous autumn leaves of Nikko!

The gorgeous autumn leaves of Nikko!

Visiting Nikkō

Nikkō is a popular day trip for tourists as it’s less than two hours from Tokyo by Shinkansen. The All-Nikkō Pass can be reserved online and provide a great discount on train and bus fare.

We stayed near the shrine area and while we enjoyed our ryokan, we probably would choose something in the Lake Chūzenji area next time. If the natural sights and hiking are your thing, I’d recommend the same. If you’re more into shopping, eating and the shrines, staying closer to the station is a better option. The bus between the areas takes about an hour and costs anywhere from 1,000-1,500 yen each way.

The Gaijin Nod

There’s a phenomenon in Japan—and probably other countries—known as the “Gaijin Nod.” “Gaijin” is a more casual version of the Japanese word for “foreign person” and, while it’s sometimes used with a negative connotation by some Japanese people, it’s widely embraced by many foreigners.

It’s a simple maneuver to perform. When you see a fellow Gaijin, you may choose to tilt your head down slightly, hold briefly at the bottom, then return your head to its original position. Chances are the person at whom the nod is directed will respond in kind.

“The Nod” occurs most frequently outside of the major tourist areas. It’s not uncommon to see foreigners in Tokyo or Kyoto, but outside of these areas, we’re a sight to behold. As such, an automatic connection is formed between us, one that crosses the boundaries of race and nationality.

Today I took a trip to the Chinese Embassy in Tokyo to prepare for our next adventure. Most of the embassies are grouped together in the Roppongi district, so there’s a high concentration of foreigners. Along the way, I passed embassies for Madagascar, Iran and Qatar. At each, when I made eye contact with the embassy employee manning the door, we engaged in “The Nod.”

The great thing about “The Nod” is that it also transcends language. Off the top of my head, I know I don’t speak Malagasy, Persian or Arabic, yet we still share a bond simply because we’re part of a larger community…

We are Gaijin.

Navigating by Star(bucks)

I’m self-diagnosing a case of selective attention deficit disorder. It’s brought on my projects that aren’t particularly interesting to me. Treatments include watching baseball, going for a run or doing just about anything else.

I have a couple of those projects on my plate this week, so I decided to remove the distractions. I loaded up my computer and headed to Starbucks to work for a bit. There’s plenty of good workspaces around town, but the coffee giant is the only one that offers free WiFi.

The closest Starbucks in Kawagoe Station is usually crowded with commuters and since the station is our transportation hub, I wanted some new scenery. I pulled up Google Maps and plotted out some of the other shops in the area. That landed me in nearby Fujimino City.

Fujimino is the first stop on the express line toward Tokyo from Kawagoe Station, but we’ve never had reason to go there, so this was a good chance to explore the area a bit. I arrived around lunchtime and had plotted out a couple potential lunch spots.

The curry lunch set at Arcturus Cafe in Fujimino. The small shop has a couple tables in a solarium surrounded by flowers in bloom

I chose Arcturus Cafe, which I’m told by Wikipedia may be named for the brightest star in the Northern Hemisphere. Macrobiotic cafes like this are one of the few safe bets for a vegetarian meal in Japan.

I chose one of the two tables in the solarium at the back of the restaurant. Outside, rose bushes and other greenery pushed against the glass. I ordered the curry set. Japanese curry is available nearly everywhere, but it’s made with chicken, so it’s usually on the no-fly list. Potatoes and mushrooms took the place of the chicken. It was fantastic!

Arcturus also bakes its own bread using a naturally fermented yeast. The soup and salad set is served with fresh bread and coffee. I can’t wait to go back to try it.

The quiet surroundings of Starbucks in Fujimino offered a nice work environment

After lunch, I headed to Starbucks to actually get some work done. The Starbucks is about 10 minutes from the station, so the crowd was pretty thin in the early afternoon with most of the customers coming through the drive-through.

A taste of home… beers from Newport, Oregon’s Rogue Ales & Spirits

After I finished my work, I popped into the Aeon department store down the street. I remembered from a trip to the Aeon near Costco that they have a large liquor section with a decent selection of craft beers. Sure enough, they had three different choices from Oregon’s Rogue Ales & Spirits. I took one of each: Hazelnut Brown Nectar, Dead Guy and Shakespeare Oatmeal Stout.

I tried to make a joke with the cashier that both the beer and I were from the same place. She laughed and said a whole bunch of other stuff that I didn’t really catch. Can’t win ’em all…

My projects will keep me busy for a few more weeks and I plan to use my new method of navigating the area by Starbucks locations to find a few more new gems.

Sunday Surprise

A mysterious sign appeared in our neighborhood trash collection area around New Year. In addition to being the receptacle for our weekly waste, the concrete bunker also serves as the neighborhood bulletin board. Usually the messages are related to trash pickup, but I could read enough of this sign that I knew it wasn’t about garbage.

This mysterious sign appeared in our trash bunker…

I snapped a photo and, after a few minutes with Google Translate, I discovered the local community center was hosting a South American music performance. I slapped it on our calendar and we made plans to attend.

A row of shoes greeted us at the community center

On the day of the performance, we climbed to the second floor of the community center, greeted by a row of shoes placed on newspaper. A basket of slippers sat nearby and we dutifully replaced our shoes with the public slippers. Many brought their own slippers, so we’ll know for next time.

South America Music Band

The band was made up of nine very skilled Japanese musicians. A couple of them played the zampoña (pan flute), two others played the charango (lute) and an energetic drummer pounded away on the bombo legüero, all the while urging the crowd to clap along. They reminded us of a less-authentic—yet equally talented—version of an Ecuadorian group we sought out at the Oregon State Fair every summer.

We were handed a couple sheets of paper when we came in. One was a schedule and the other a lyric sheet. Over the course of an hour, the audience was encouraged to sing along with about half of the songs. I couldn’t read fast enough to sing along, but I was surprised at how well I was able to follow along while our fellow listeners harmonized with the band.

After the show, people shuffled into a room across the hall for snacks. We tried to slip out quietly, but were stopped by one of the organizers who spoke just enough English to get his point across—it’s very important that you stay and celebrate. OK… shoes off, slippers back on.

Our neighbors gather around the great feast celebrating the new year

We were glad we did. We told the man our address and he attempted to find our neighborhood table. In the end, I think we were just added to a table with some empty space as we didn’t recognize anyone at the table. Immediately, our new neighbors poured us green tea and began asking questions. One man spoke excellent English while another couple had a daughter living in the U.S. and learned a little bit of English each day on the internet.

Each table had the same spread: pizza from the recently-opened Domino’s, assorted hosomaki (thin sushi rolls), sandwiches, fruit and desserts. We waited and watched how they handled the food (some ate the pizza with their hands, others with chopsticks!) and followed suit (pizza with hands… our chopstick skills are good, but this was some next level stuff!).

A bowl of oshiruko with flower-shaped cakes floating in it

At the end of the meal, the best English speaker asked if we wanted some New Year dessert soup. Oshiruko is a cold, sweet bean soup often served with mochi cakes. Ours came with small, multicolored, flower-shaped cakes that resembled the marshmallows in Lucky Charms cereal.

After lunch, a man named Naka, who participated in the local English Club, came over to talk with us. Shortly after, he brought over another member—Kuni—who works as an investment banker and spent five years in the 1980s working in the World Trade Center in New York City. They asked the usual questions (where are you from, why are you here, etc.) and we talked about how difficult it is to learn each other’s languages.

The finalists in the Rock, Paper, Scissors contest gather at the front of the crowd to accept their prizes

While we talked, the organizers passed out rubber bands to everyone in the room. We were about to play the biggest game of Rock, Paper, Scissors (janken/じゃんけん) that I’ve ever participated in.

We paired off and began to battle. In the one-and-done format, if you win, you get the other person’s rubber band and move on to the next opponent. I beat Kuni in the first match, but then lost to a man from the next table who slow-rolled my scissors (choki/ちょき) with his rock (guu/ぐう).

A lady from our table made it all the way to the final group. Although she didn’t win it all, she did return with some sort of coffee-related prize.

We helped cleanup the table as best as possible. As we picked up, each of the ladies nearby placed a handful of the leftover Lindt truffles in front of us. We must have taken six or so with us.

We walked home and I couldn’t help but shake my head. It seems like every time we venture out into our neighborhood, something special happens. We’re still a bit of a spectacle, but people accept us into their communities so readily that the novelty wears off quickly and, before long, we’re just another neighbor.

How Do You Say…

I recently started reading a book called The Japanese Have a Word for It. Among other things, it discusses the loaded words of the Japanese language. While there are plenty of one-to-one relationships between Japanese and English (i.e. inu = dog), there are plenty of words that don’t translate cleanly. These words represent complete ideas or cultural nuances that go beyond a simple translation.

For example, the word shoganai is an important descriptor for Japanese culture. In American English, it might translate to “there’s nothing we can do about it, so why worry about it?” but it’s a phrase that defines Japan and its people. The trait helped the country bounce back after World War II and, more recently, the 2011 earthquake and tsunami. It’s also perceived as a weakness by many foreigners as an excuse for people who let life steamroll them, although I know I use the phrase “it is what it is” pretty regularly when things are beyond my control.

The book leads off with a brief history of the Japanese language as a “secret code.” The book claims the complexities were intentional as a way to keep foreign influence at arm’s length. As a result, there’s a cultural belief that the language is so difficult to learn that foreigners would never be able to pick it up. It probably contributes to many of the stereotypes foreigners face here, even those who speak fluent Japanese (the following video is short and hilarious).

So, to veer completely off that topic, the book’s introduction made me think about how difficult it must have been to be a foreigner in Japan before translation dictionaries or the internet. I spend a couple hours most days following internet rabbit holes to figure out how to say things, identify odd-looking groceries or translate the important-looking document that arrived in the mail.

We’re also able to stay plugged in to interests and events from home in a way that we couldn’t have imagined 50 or 100 years ago. When our brains reach Japanese overload (which happens frequently), we can flip on the Apple TV and watch our favorite shows on Netflix or stream the latest episode of The Daily Show on our laptops. I was able to watch the Portland Trail Blazers 2014 playoff run as it happened and caught a bunch of Chicago Cubs games this year.

I even have the audacity to be upset when the 1080p video internet streaming of a real-time sporting event from the other side of the globe has the nerve to pause for 5 seconds to buffer. Oh well… shoganai!

Some of that complexity still gets me on a daily basis though. The difference between kirei and kirai is a subtle “key-ray” vs “key-rye,” but the former means “beautiful” while the latter means “to hate.” Kawaii and kowai are really close (“ka-why-e” vs “ko-why”, but the first means “cute” while the other means “scary.”

Anyway… excuse the rambling nature of this post. It all made sense in my head!

Sitting on the Sidelines

Today I was out for a run in the middle of the day, one of the many perks of my current non-employed status. I ran past one of the nearby parks and saw some guys playing baseball. I decided to take a little break and sat down to watch them for awhile.

The “guys” were probably 65 years old on average. They were taking batting practice, rotating in and out like a well-oiled team. Long fly balls corralled with two hands. Line drives snagged with nifty backhand catches. Ground balls around the infield tossed with precision to first base. I didn’t see a single error.

I sat and watched with knowledge of the social role reversal taking place. Usually it’s the old guy reliving his youth from the sidelines, but not today. I wished I had a glove. I wished one of them would ask if I wanted to take a turn at the plate. But, I just watched for about 10 minutes before finishing up my run.

Getting in the game here can be hard. I’m still not super comfortable communicating and got out of practice a bit over the summer. But there are days where the spirit of taking advantage of the situation overcomes the hesitance.

I had a free day for lunch last week and decided to go out in the neighborhood. For some reason, the local ramen shop is intimidating. It’s just a hole in the wall with a counter and about a dozen seats.

I walked past the first time, but after a block I’d psyched myself up enough to go in. I sat down at the counter and asked if the miso ramen was vegetarian (it was-ish, but I’m pretty sure the broth had some pork fat in it…). The security guard on his lunch break sitting next to me gave me a hard-boiled egg from the bowl on the counter and told me it was abunai or dangerous. He motioned as if I should put it in my pocket and laughed hard.

Another man down the counter spoke a tiny bit of English and used it all. He overheard my order and asked “You are vegetarian?” Then, when I went to get water from the self-serve machine, he asked if I could read the sign (which, surprisingly, I could!). I read it in Japanese and he read it in English. As I was leaving, he patted me on the back and said “no problem,” which I’m pretty sure is the second phrase they teach in Japanese schools after “Hello.”

After a few minutes though, the novelty of the American wore off and we all ate our meals in peace.

It felt good to “get in the game” and be a part of the community.

If Only Somebody Had Told Me…

Most of the posts on Cascadian Abroad are very positive and reflect our experiences honestly and accurately. Some of the more difficult experiences (that, again honestly, make up only a small part of our time here) are usually couched with humor and sarcasm. But it hasn’t all been easy.

A few weeks ago we had an e-mail dialog with a woman back in the U.S. who was deciding whether or not to come to Japan to teach next spring. It was an interesting thread as it really made us think about the experience so far and what we wish we would have known before we made the decision to come to Japan. Her and her fiancé are in a similar position as we were back in our decision-making process, so we were happy to provide some information. 

Had we known these things in advance, it wouldn’t have changed our decision to come and actually might have expedited our decision while helping us better prepare for the move. I’d like to share some of those things today. 

Finding a job in Japan will be difficult

Since her spouse was also leaving a career in the U.S., they had questions about finding work. My visa allows me to work up to 28 hours per week, but finding a part-time job isn’t an easy task. Most English-speaking jobs in our area still require at least business-level knowledge of Japanese. I’m still working up to toddler-level Japanese, so most of those opportunities are off the table. The couple of contacts I’ve made have projects that are “in the works,” but they are moving on Japan Time, which is akin to Island Time.

Not very many people speak English

Americans are pretty ethnocentric (although I think it’s not just Americans), so prior to coming to Japan, we got a lot of “Don’t worry, they’ll probably speak English.” That may be true in parts of Tokyo or other large cities, but where we live, it’s just not the case. Some people learned a little bit in school, much like we speak a little bit of Spanish or French or whatever language class we took for two years in high school. Those who know a little are more than happy to try and communicate with you, but (no duh!) I’ve found that I need to learn Japanese to communicate in Japan.

Our adventure started in a whirlwind fashion, but I think if we had more time it would have been helpful to take Japanese classes in the U.S. with English-speaking teachers. When you’re starting from scratch, or rebooting nearly 20 years removed from high school Japanese, learning in-context is tough, especially with a language not based in a Latin/Roman script.

People will stare at you

One thing that alternately annoys me and fascinates me is that we stick out like a sore thumb in our neighborhood. Some people are interested, some stare with suspicion, some children cry and scramble into their parents’ arms (all true stories). The suspicious stares are a little hurtful as is the feeling when a mother hastily grabs up her child when you walk by, purely because of the color of your skin (and, yes, it feels odd to write that as a Caucasian person). 

Mostly though, people are really kind to us. We were coming home from a walk today when a man came up to us and, in his best English, invited us to “this town’s festival.” Our neighborhood had a little carnival in the park. A few people smiled wide at us and greeted us. A man gave us a ticket for a kakigōri (Japanese shaved ice). A couple days ago, the druggist who helped me find cough medicine last week remembered me on our next visit and asked if the medicine helped. Many people are interested in where we’re from and I wish that I knew more Japanese to be able to answer all of their questions.

Ship a BUNCH of your favorite things

We had the opportunity to ship two large boxes about six weeks before we left the U.S. Add in a couple checked bags and our carry-ons, that’s all we would be bringing on our adventure. Trying to figure out what you’d want or need in a place you’ve never been is tough. I have way too many pairs of socks and nice pants and we’re all out of Kirkland Signature Natural Creamy Peanut Butter already. Japan’s customs restrictions mean we can’t ship a lot of our favorites products from the States, which isn’t that big a deal because it’s pretty spendy to do so anyway. But, being forced to adapt, I’ve perfected a shiitake mushroom “beef” jerky and veggie bratwurst! 

Let go and enjoy the adventure!

I’ll admit, I was way too uptight about some of the little things. Leaving behind everything you know isn’t easy, but the things we’ve seen over the last five months have made it all worthwhile. I know my poor wife gets a lot of “How’s Robert doing?” questions, expecting to find me huddled in a corner crying. My answer? I snorkeled the Great Barrier Reef two weeks ago, saw the Sydney Opera House last week and climbed to the summit of Mount Fuji four days ago. 

I’m fine, thanks. 

Language Barrier

One of my earliest childhood memories is of sitting in the kitchen with my mom. I remember asking “Why doesn’t everyone speak English?” It made perfect sense in my little head. Everyone must translate it into English in their brains to understand it, so why don’t they just say it in English to begin with?

I don’t remember the exact answer, but Mom explained how people speak different languages and they might translate our English into their own languages to help them understand. It certainly framed my perspective in life.

A hot button issue in the U.S. immigration debate is whether or not foreigners should have English-language proficiency before they’re able to become permanent residents. Pew Research Center projects that 82% of population growth in the U.S. between 2005 and 2050 will be immigrants and their descendants. I can imagine at some point in the future, the debate will extend to whether all Americans should be bilingual in English and Spanish.

Over the years, I’ve always fell on the side of “live and let live” when it comes to language. But when we made the decision to move to Japan, I knew that I wanted to learn Japanese, much in the way that I suspect most immigrants to the U.S. want to learn English. However, learning a new language isn’t something that just happens. I have two years of high-school Japanese under my belt, which has helped me some, but even that isn’t enough for me to be able to communicate my needs. If Japan had proficiency laws, they wouldn’t let me within a million miles of the shoreline.

I found that we’ve approached learning Japanese in line with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. We started with vocabulary and phrases related to food. I would like… Do you have… Does it have meat or fish… Now that we’re able to sustain ourselves, we’ve been able to start adding some additional words and phrases to enhance our experiences.

The four primary Japanese writing systems

Reading and writing is critical as well. Navigating the trains and stores require the ability to read. Japanese has four primary methods of writing.

Kanji is adapted from Chinese and each symbol typically represents a word or words. Depending on how they’re combined, they take on different meanings. Elementary school children learn approximately 1,000 kanji and some estimates have the total number of kanji somewhere around 50,000.

Hiragana is used as particles to connect kanji, but also to spell native Japanese words for which no kanji exists. Katakana is used primarily for foreign words. It has mostly the same sounds as hiragana, but is a different character set. Finally, rōmaji is used to help non-Japanese readers navigate the Japanese world. For example, most street names, government documents intended for foreigners and advertisements use rōmaji heavily.

In theory, Japanese should be easier to learn than English. The Japanese language has five vowel sounds and 17 consonant sounds vs. the 20 vowel sounds and 24 consonant sounds in English. For example, in Japanese, the “a” vowel is always an “ah” sound (ka, ga, wa, etc.). But in English, the “a” vowel can be long, as in “ape,” short as in “apple,” an “uh” sound like in “zebra,” an “ah” sound like in “art” or in the case of “orange,” the darn thing just disappears completely.

Learning Japanese hasn’t come without more than its fair share of frustrations. As one of our friends put it the other day, it has a “one step forward, two steps back” feel about it most days. I feel confident at restaurants and grocery stores, but if the neighbor drops by or a salesman comes to the door, it’s like starting from scratch.

The hardest part for me has been the frustration of not being able to communicate. I like to make small talk with the store clerk or people in line. I tried to make a comment about the weather at the grocery store the other day. I was buying a new umbrella and said Ame, desu ne! which was my best shot at It’s really raining, isn’t it? The clerk laughed and replied with a long string of words I didn’t know. Since she laughed, I laughed too, which encouraged her to continue. I faked it as best I could, but I’m sure she sensed the conversation was one-sided from that point forward.

It’s only been three months, so I know I have to cut myself some slack. I’m picking up more and more each day and am starting to figure out some tricks for retaining what I learn. I’ve been making up little songs when I learn something new, which helps the phrase stick. My reading of hiragana and katakana is probably 95 percent, which means I can usually figure out the other 5 percent. I haven’t spent much time with kanji, other than memorizing things like “meat’ (肉) and “fish” (魚), but I’m starting to recognize common ones, like “river” (川), “entrance” (入口), “exit” (出口) and “mountain” (山).

Lately, I’ve been trying to focus on grammar. I figure if I can pick out the pieces of language, that’s when you really start building a toolbox. You can start to construct new ideas and, even if not 100 percent grammatically correct, there is at least some meaning to the listener.

Even in high school, I never really tried to learn a language. My only point of comparison is learning programming languages. With those, there’s always the initial struggle followed by the belief that you’ll never learn it. Then, one day, something clicks and all of a sudden you’re proficient. After awhile, you start to have dreams in code (which can be a great way to solve a problem that you’ve been chewing on all day).

I don’t think I’ll be fluent in two years. Heck, I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to carry on a conversation. But, I think I’m off to a good start and maybe someday I’ll even have a dream in Japanese. I have a real motivation to learn, not just to survive, but to thrive.