Most Auspicious Aficionado of Outdoor Onsen

  



Zenkoji Temple in Nagano

So I descended from the mountainous terrain of rice fields of the northern countryside where my world was pretty much off the radar…. no cell phone or wireless connection and my daily concerns centered around breakfast sencha tea and enjoying the sensation of tiny flakes of snow melting on my nose and forehead while submerged to my neck in the warmth of an outdoor onsen. 
I was a bit surprised to find that I would have limited to no wireless access in the Tokyo area either, but I was also too relaxed to care.  Besides, the paper weight called laptop that fits in my purse is shiny and attractive. 


Osaka Jo Koen


I have a friend, Natsuki , who owns a dance studio in Tokyo and over the weekend I had the opportunity to teach 2 Haitian dance workshops.  There's a community of drummers in the Tokyo area who study Haitian music and they came out to play for the classes.  Watanabe, Gaku-san arranged the class schedule and all of the percussion.  Tanoshikatta!! It was incredibly fun….  There are several kissatens in and around the Tokyo named Caffe Haiti, one is off of Omote-Sando near Harajyuku station.  They serve coffee drinks and Japanese style curry rice, but are adorned with Haitian art and pictures of drums painted with veves.

I don't know what is more shocking, that gas is now cheaper than a can of milk tea from a vending machine or that I came into contact with Manchester United fans on the Yamanote Line the other day.  It's true, there they were with those large soccer scarves that read "UNITED TILL I DIE." Does anyone think that it's a coincidence that I'm here at the same time as the FIFA Club World Cup? (not THE World Cup, but the World Cup of regional club teams)  I nonchalantly moved to another car, not so much to avoid being associated with a rowdy group of foreigners, but more so to avoid anyone getting confused in thinking that I'm a Manchester United fan.   I caught the Man U – Gamba Osaka (love them!) match on TV from an izakaya the other night.  Gamba Osaka lost 5-3, but the match frickin' rocked!

   
 

The Drummers



My Dance Class


 

Greetings from Nihon

 
 

Shibuya Station, Hachiko Mae


Today I`m heading up to the northern Honshu region and I arrived at the top of the stairs on platform 21 in Tokyo station just in time to see the line of train stewards stand at attention and bow as tIhe Shinkansen (bullet train) pulled into the station.  I salute as well, politely bowing as I enter the non~reserved car bound for Urasa Yamato-machi, a village in the mountains of Niigata Prefecture.  This is where my `Okaasan` lives, a dear friend who insists that I`m the daughter that she never had.  I slump into a seat next to the window, completely dehydrated, my head a throbbing mess.  My exhaustion at the moment isn`t only due to jet lag.

I suppose there`s no better way to get some exercise and to re-kindle the fire of dormant language skills than to be given incorrect directions at the airport and to then make an attempt to navigate through Tokyo station rush hour pulling a swollen awkward rolling bag that doubles as a back pack.  Good times....if I weren`t able to read Kanji, I would have ended up on the bullet train to Sendai.  The attendant who gave me the directions gave them to me in perfect English and even went through the extra helpful steps of writing out the needed (incorrect) information on my tickets. I soon realized that I had been given the wrong platform and wrong time for my train.  So I made a sprint through the crowds of commuters and up and then down several platforms in order to prevent being in the predicament of missing that last train to my destination.   Though brutally stressful, I`m still having a hearty laugh on the inside at the extremely polite final round speech contest Japanese that took over and uncoiled form my mouth.


Shinkansen - Bullet Train


As the train builds its momentum, the scenery from my window is an over-stimulating pulse of vibrant color, flashing lights and large scale video images that spread across entire buildings. My palate longs for the bowl of oden that awaits my arrival, a simmering pot of long cooked daikon, noodles and mountain vegetables.  For now, I`m going to have to make do with the onigiri that I have stuffed in my pack; triangle shaped balls of rice filled with salted plum paste and wrapped in a delicate layer of nori.

The train soon speeds into a tunnel for what seems like forever, but in reality is probably 20 minutes.  My ears begin to pop due to the altitude once we surface and the landscape is suddenly majestic and still.  The silhouettes of mountains and trees stand silent against the dark blue night, replacing the vibrant flash of the city on the other side of the tunnel.  I begin to lean my shoulders onto the upper seat arm next to the window, noticing how the car rolls swiftly and smoothly along the rails like silk.  My eyelids suddenly start to become too heavy to keep from sinking, as my physical body lags some 17 hours behind the surrounding night that passes by at 188 mph.  I surrender my head against the thick glass window and slowly fall into a peaceful jet lagged induced slumber...