tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69028431877687533792024-02-20T06:44:25.304-08:00The Language of CuriosityCandacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-61386733365878707552013-02-18T12:13:00.000-08:002013-02-18T12:22:48.374-08:00Ryuugakuchuu no baito? (A part time job while studying abroad?)So, when I first started writing this blog I thought I would write about each trip I did, in its entirety. So I would only write posts about Japan, then only posts about Hawaii, etc. Lately I've been thinking that maybe that gets tedious for people, to only read about one place for so many posts. So I decided I am going to mix it up and start posting about my other experiences, as well as the rest of my Japan experiences. I'm also working on starting my Colorado spotlight, but it may be a while because a.) it's winter and b.) I am broke. But expect to see posts about my home state soon. Unfortunately, I don't have a post about something other than Japan written up yet, so until I do, please enjoy the following post about teaching English in Japan.<br />
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<br />
Most people when they study abroad tend to take it easy on
any sort of responsibilities and focus only on having fun. While this is great,
I was not so lax. Not only did my grades transfer directly back, requiring me
to concentrate on school while having fun, I also picked up a part-time job. A
student visa lets exchange students work for less than 20 hours. I was offered
a position teaching English at an after-school program in Akita city. You might
think I was hesitant to work, but in fact it was a great opportunity, a fun
experience, and gave me a little extra spending money. What’s not to like?<br />
<br />
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I worked on Saturdays, and occasionally on Wednesdays if my
recruiter, coworker, and fellow AIU student needed a shift covered. The first
day I went into the city was to visit my new employer, with my friend to guide
me. The drive there was lovely, as we passed seemingly endless rows of rice
farms. Once we reached the city, however, I was a bit taken aback by the sudden
urban scenery. Signs in half-familiar Japanese flanked me from all sides, with
bright colors and cute mascots beckoning. Akita city is by no means a busy
or crowded city, but it is still a stark contrast to the countryside of AIU.<br />
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The company I was to teach with was in a small building,
surrounded by a sushi restaurant on one side, and a convenience store (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">konbini</i>) across the street. When I
walked in, I had to take off my shoes in the front area called a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">genkan. </i>Japanese people are very
particular about taking off shoes, and this is a distinct feature of Japanese
homes. As silly as it may sound, I was delighted to be performing in this daily
ritual of Japanese life. My boss was a Japanese man who had lived in the United
States for much of his life. He didn’t need to give me a tour, because there
was only one room, bisected by a tall book shelf. The décor was bright,
cheerful, and very similar to any other elementary/middle school classroom. He
gave me the textbook to take home and study, and told me what my students were
like. He said that they were considered to be advanced for their age in the English
language. With more than a little pride, he told me, “They are pretty smart.”<br />
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My second trip there was terrifying and great all at once. I
had instructions from my friend on which buses to take, and where to get off,
but I was very nervous. I gave myself a ridiculous amount of time to make sure
I could make up for anything I might do wrong. Somehow I managed to get it all
right, however I fumbled for a long time trying to count out the right change
when I paid. I got a lot of awkward stares. (After that I would always have my
fare ready and counted out.) Miraculously, I wasn’t late. <br />
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My first class was somewhat awkward. I had 3 students, two
younger ones in late elementary who were brother and sister, and an older girl
in middle school. They were all lovely, if a bit shy. I introduced myself,
using my much practiced <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">jikoshoukai</i>
(self-introduction). I asked them where they were in the book, and tested them
a bit to get a grasp of their level. My understanding is that most Japanese
students know how to read and write English fairly well, but can hardly speak
or understand it. Thus I wanted to really focus on the oral part of the lesson.
To get them used to hearing it, I would explain first in English, try my best
to clarify in Japanese, and then repeat the explanation again in English. (My
opinion is first-language support while learning in the lower levels of a
second language is more effective than full immersion classes.) I also quizzed
them in English. Luckily, they were fast learners and the awkwardness faded
after a couple weeks. <br />
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Teaching them was a lot of fun, and I had the pleasure of
teaching them a little about the United States, as well. I learned more about
them and more about being a kid in Akita. On my last day with them, I bought
them all cake to thank them for being so awesome. Before, I didn’t want to
teach English in Japan, which is a common first career move for Japanese
majors. This experience changed my mind. Now I am thinking that I might not
just teach English in Japan, but maybe around the world! After all, I know from
experience how crossing language barriers can help you cross country borders. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span></div>
Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-58252430181018384142013-02-11T15:42:00.000-08:002013-02-16T17:50:38.612-08:00Kimono CultureAs you may remember from my last post, I’m kind of a <i>kimono</i> fanatic. This stems from my long
time fascination with <i>geisha</i> culture,
which places particular importance on what <i>geisha</i>
or <i>maiko</i> wear. So I thought I would
share with you a little about <i>kimono</i>,
and what makes them so awesome.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Kimono</i> literally
translates as “thing to wear”, but really only refers to the traditional,
robe-like style of Japanese clothes you are probably familiar with. There are
various types of <i>kimono</i>. The kind
with the short sleeves that most women wear are generally just referred to as <i>kimono</i>, but may have specific names
relating to their patterns. The beautiful, elaborate <i>kimono </i>with long sleeves are called <i>furisode</i>, and they are only worn by young women who have not
married. They are often worn at the coming-of age-ceremonies that Japan holds
for everyone who turns 20 in that year. (One is considered to be an adult at
age 20 in Japan.) This kind of <i>kimono</i> is worn by <i>maiko</i>, apprentice <i>geisha</i>
from Kyoto. In addition, they are used by <i>maiko</i>
and <i>geisha</i> who specialize in dancing,
because the longer sleeves emphasize the delicate movements. There are specific
kinds of for mourning as well as marriages. There is also a summer
Japanese robe called a <i>yukata, </i>which
is thinner and easier to put on. Men’s <i>kimono
</i>are often much simpler, usually in dark shades of blue, grey, green, and
brown.<br />
<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCxofThdyEN9owQKY8bTVO6a91b_WVf8q2rK7-KiceCLIe97LqASVyIof96Oxli5RueZuUFze94pz_M5lJj9D0LjG8jyAVreT_oEaCqkzr4uDVKqW_jGAO-b-4dPrWQzV-iMAkyL3z04/s1600/kabuki4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCxofThdyEN9owQKY8bTVO6a91b_WVf8q2rK7-KiceCLIe97LqASVyIof96Oxli5RueZuUFze94pz_M5lJj9D0LjG8jyAVreT_oEaCqkzr4uDVKqW_jGAO-b-4dPrWQzV-iMAkyL3z04/s400/kabuki4.jpg" width="295" /></a></div>
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(A <i>furisode kimono</i>, worn by a kabuki performer. This is a photo borrowed from a friend.)</div>
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(Me and Justin at the <i>kabuki </i>performance. You can see how Justin's <i>kimono</i> is much simpler than mine. Note: My <i>obi</i> is a <i>yukata obi</i> because I didn't have time to learn how to wear the regular <i>obi</i>.)</div>
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<i>Kimono</i> are
somewhat complicated to put on, and involve numerous pieces. It takes practice
and specific instruction, and most people need help to put on fancier kinds of <i>kimono</i>. All <i>kimono</i> are a “one size fits all” deal, and they are made to fit
through lifting and folding. Although the robe is all one piece, there are
various necessary accessories that go with it. One such addition is the
undergarments. Because <i>kimono </i>are
expensive and made of fine silk, it is important to keep them as clean as
possible, so they are not to be worn against bare skin. The most obvious
accessory is the <i>obi</i>, or the belt
that goes around the middle. These belts are usually very decorative and
beautiful. Beneath the <i>obi</i> are many
unseen accessories. There are a few simple cloth ties, used to hold up the hem
of the <i>kimono</i> and to keep all the
folds in place. There is also often a stiff rectangle of thin plastic to smooth
out any wrinkles behind the <i>obi. </i>There
are special collar inserts used to help keep the collar stiff. There are also
various decorative accessories, such as an <i>obi-jime</i>,
which is a thin, cord-like tie that goes around the outside of the <i>obi</i>, and is tied in pretty knots. The <i>obi</i> may be tied in a multitude of ways,
each with its own particular set of steps. Luckily, a <i>yukata</i> is much easier to wear. You only need a couple ties
underneath, and the <i>obi </i>is thinner
and much easier to handle. However, keep in mind that <i>yukata</i> are very informal. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAakSvFU5yp7EsL12882c_KHLUU3BuDSi-gB0Y3W5of0faM7WOzP6iNKZeXDd5htZEfYjJW2_LIt0fAKnXRHEa7fM2He3GVEqPLEuGBM4H8IwRS8hzfuDBBG5CMQnEVN8Re8uKq4X_Oqw/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAakSvFU5yp7EsL12882c_KHLUU3BuDSi-gB0Y3W5of0faM7WOzP6iNKZeXDd5htZEfYjJW2_LIt0fAKnXRHEa7fM2He3GVEqPLEuGBM4H8IwRS8hzfuDBBG5CMQnEVN8Re8uKq4X_Oqw/s400/020.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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(My <i>obi</i> and a closeup of the wave pattern.)</div>
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(My purple <i>yukata.</i> You can see my <i>obi-jime, </i>which is pink, in the middle of my yellow <i>obi</i>.)</div>
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The art of pairing a <i>kimono</i>
with its <i>obi</i> and <i>obi-jime</i> can be very deep, and it is something <i>geisha</i> must master. The color palate must be carefully considered. <i>Obi</i> should always stand out from the <i>kimono</i>, and not be too matching.
Sometimes the <i>obi</i> will be the color
of a small detail included in the <i>kimono</i>.
For example, my <i>yukata</i> is mainly
purple with pink flowers. The pink flowers have little yellow dots in the
middle, so I chose a yellow <i>obi.</i> It
stands out, but still goes with the outfit. Alternatively, <i>obi</i> are chosen based on pure color contrast and will often not be
any shade involved in the <i>kimono</i>. You
can think of this as choosing colors from a color wheel. Blue is on the
opposite side of orange, so these colors look well together. However, Japanese
aesthetics differ from our Western concepts, so the color wheel rule does not
always work, but it is a good starting point. One must also consider the time
of year. Seasons heavily influence which colors and patterns are appropriate to
wear. <o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyLfvF-08mQpwI1cmaNxHoZ2pB1RLCOqBF-nkVTl-A16pxUbjKrJWhIiF_-bbQa0DXCiX5S-JN5zJcOkswZ2YtmWYqcm6HcUBMHz350ieeYfhBmOwEzy6paikAGYR-yb4ch8m4J9dQiGI/s1600/AIU+Festival+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyLfvF-08mQpwI1cmaNxHoZ2pB1RLCOqBF-nkVTl-A16pxUbjKrJWhIiF_-bbQa0DXCiX5S-JN5zJcOkswZ2YtmWYqcm6HcUBMHz350ieeYfhBmOwEzy6paikAGYR-yb4ch8m4J9dQiGI/s400/AIU+Festival+3.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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(Me and my roommate, wearing <i>yukata</i>. My roommate, Mai, chose a pink <i>obi,</i> but a green one would have worked as well, because of the green leaves in the robe.)</div>
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<i>Kimono</i> are very
expensive. They can easily set you back a couple hundred collars, especially
after buying all the accessories. However, they are also often sold to second
hand stores, which is where I bought my <i>kimono.
</i>I bought a green one that had a barely noticeable stain near the bottom for
around $25, and then a beautiful orange <i>kimono</i> that had a tiny tear in the
shoulder that had been sewn up for about $15. The problems were barely
noticeable, and they were absolutely gorgeous. I also purchased a gold <i>obi</i>, which was another $20, I think. I
haven’t bought all the necessary accessories, but I would say if you went to
one of these thrift shops, you could easily buy a full set for around $100. <i>Yukata</i> are cheaper and often sold in
complete sets, new, for around $50 or $70.<br />
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(Above: My second hand green and orange <i>kimono</i>, which closeups of the detailing. My gold <i>obi</i> works well with both of these.)</div>
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All this may sound complicated, but if you have a passion
for the unique Japanese aesthetic, I highly recommend looking around to see if
you can find a set you like. Even if you don’t wear them back home, they make
beautiful wall pieces if you can find a way to mount them. (Don’t use nails. Please.) My <i>kimono</i> and <i>obi</i> are definitely one of my favorite souvenirs I brought back with
me, and I can’t wait for another chance to wear them.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<br />
Do you like <i>kimono</i> or other kinds of traditional clothing from around the world? Do you dream of owning your own complete <i>kimono </i>set? What kind of color combos sound appealing to you? Leave me a comment and let me know what you think!</div>
Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-38398687818287674312013-02-04T01:43:00.000-08:002013-02-04T02:12:08.693-08:00Kakunodate: Time Travel to the Days of Samurai<br />
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The third part of our first bus trip
completely made up for the slightly gloomy second stop. The last area
we journeyed to is considered to be the “little Kyoto of Akita.”
It's a beautiful neighborhood called Kakunodate, which was formerly a
samurai town. It still retains much of the traditional architecture
and style of pre-war Japan, and walking around there feels like
stepping into another time. Many of the samurai houses—expansive
buildings with large gardens—are open to the public as museums. One
of these houses was the first place we went to. Since it was still
early spring, the gardens were not that green, but it was still a
beautiful house.
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The first section inside the house was
a collection of samurai suits of armor, swords, and other assorted
weapons. This place was like a dream come true for Justin, who is a
sword fanatic. This was the one time he insisted on operating my
camera, taking as many pictures as possible. He admired the designs
in the blades, caused by carefully controlling temperature
differences in the final stages of forging. As a student of <i>iaido</i>,
or the art of drawing one's sword, his respect for the <i>katana</i>
is considerable, but I think he might have left some drool on the
cases surrounding them. We were also impressed by the full sets of
armor, in bright red and blue colors, with fierce helmets used to
intimidate the opponent.</div>
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(A couple sword blades. You can see the color variation in the center of the blade. It's almost like the signature of a craftsman.)</div>
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(A set of red samurai armor. It looks like he has the face a demon on his helmet. Rawr!)</div>
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After
the swords was a treat for me: two beautiful <i>kimono </i>as
well as sleeping <i>kimono</i>.
The normal <i>kimono</i> were
gorgeous and intricately detailed. The sleeping <i>kimono</i>
were fascinating; they were pretty much like Japanese Snuggies, where
they covered the whole body but you slept in them like sleeping bags.
They were thick and looked pretty comfy. After that we perused
Japanese furniture, artwork, and pottery. There was a beautiful
collection of old cameras, as well as a collection of old music
players like gramophones and a Thomas Edison phonograph.
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(Two beautiful kimono on display.)</div>
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(The toasty sleeping kimono.)</div>
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(My favorite of the old cameras.)</div>
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(Edison phonograph, surrounded by the music cylinders.)</div>
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One of
my favorite parts of the museum was the doll collection. They had
these beautiful flat dolls made out of cloth, as well as an
assortment of extremely tiny figurines. I was especially excited to
see antique versions of the <i>hina matsuri</i>
dolls I mentioned in a previous post. In the picture below, you can
see that even after years of weathering, and although her colors have
faded, the old Empress doll is still as beautiful as the bright new
one.
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(One of the flat dolls made of cloth.)</div>
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(The antique <i>hina matsuri</i> empress doll. Isn't her headdress just gorgeous?)</div>
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After
the first museum, we wandered into the streets. With only the
pavement to mark their place in the modern day, I felt like I was
walking through the Edo period down pathways of cherry blossoms.
Across the way, a vender was selling soft-serve cherry blossom
flavored ice cream. Trying our best to smile while the Japanese
visitors stared at us, Justin and I each ordered a cone topped with
ice cream the color of ballet slippers. <i>Sakura</i>
ice cream has a very interesting taste. There is definitely the taste
of cherry, but it is quite floral, with a slight tang to it. It was
delicious, but at the same time each bite made me go “hmm” just
because it tasted so unusual.
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We
visited a second museum, where we saw a complicated instrument called
a <i>shou</i>, made of 17
bamboo pipes that is said to imitate the sound and shape of a phoenix
(Wikipedia.org). It sounds sort of like a mini organ.</div>
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(The Japanese instrument called the <i>shou</i>).</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/CYdCt9XbA8w?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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(The first couple minutes of this video show you how the <i>shou</i> is played, and what it sounds like.)</div>
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I also
saw tools made in the <i>mokume gane</i>
fashion, which is a style of melding different kinds of metal
together to look like wood. This style was invented by Denbei Shoami
in the 17<sup>th</sup>
century, and it usually includes soft metals such as gold, silver,
copper, and various alloys (Wikipedia.org). Below is a beautiful
jewelry box, but there were also bowls, vases, and even a <i>matcha</i>
tea container and scoop. Incidentally, my mom and step-dad's wedding
rings are also made in the <i>mokume gane</i>
fashion.
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(A <i>mokume gane</i> jewelry box. It looks like gold laminated wood.)</div>
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After
the second museum, Justin and I wandered over the the <i>sakura</i>
lined river that runs through Kakunodate. Although it was still
cloudy, the white blossoms stretching over the water was breathtaking
and tranquil. I think we were there during a cherry blossom festival,
because next to the river was an array of stands. Justin and I bought
some delicious meat kabobs, and watched school-age children dance in
a <i>nihon buyo</i>
performance. If you have read my post about Japanese traditional
dancing, then you have seen these videos, but I'll post them again at the bottom.</div>
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(The <i>sakura</i> lined pathways above the river bed.)</div>
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(The <i>sakura</i> trees along the bank of the river.)</div>
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(Looking through blossoms.)</div>
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(Am I the <i>kami</i> of this beautiful tree? No just a delighted tourist!)</div>
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Kakunodate was
beautiful and full of wonderful things to see. There were many shops
I never got to visit, because before long we were all ushered back
onto the bus to go home. I wish I could have stayed many hours more.
Like Lake Tazawa, I hope to return to this lovely little town,
untouched by time, and experience all its charms. <br />
<br />
Have you ever been to Kakunodate or another town designed to preserve traditional culture? What did you think of it? Would you ever get a wedding ring made from woven metals? Do you think the <i>shou</i> sounds like a phoenix?</div>
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(Me by the pinkest cherry tree I saw my whole trip!)</div>
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(The young <i>nihon buyo</i> performers at the cherry blossom festival near the river.)</div>
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(Even younger performers. So cute!)</div>
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Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-14712365300567433362013-01-28T14:50:00.000-08:002013-01-28T19:24:04.056-08:00Lake Tazawa and Lady TatsukoThe second part of our first 3-part bus
trip was an interesting study in contrasts. Our trip had actually
started with a short stop at a cherry-blossom lined valley, where we
bought snacks, took pictures, soaked in the sunlight, and distracted
a large group of elderly people playing croquet. After going from
that to the beautiful river, still bathed in sunshine, I thought for
a while that the sun would stay all day. It didn't. And while the
lake we traveled to next, called Lake Tazawa, was beautiful and
interesting as a tourist, I was dismayed at the grey clouds which
erased all the color that had dazzled me just an hour earlier. Such
is early spring in Japan, I suppose.<br />
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(The beautiful sunny beginning of the day.)</div>
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Lake Tazawa has many claims to fame.
First of all, it is the deepest lake in Japan. It's maximum depth is
423 meters, or roughly 1388 feet, and because of its depth it never
freezes (Wikipedia.org). It's depth also causes the water to be a
beautiful, rich blue color. It is flanked by Japan's largest ski
resort, Tazawa Ski Area, as well as several famous <i>onsen</i>,
or hot springs (Wikipedia.org).
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It is also famous
for the golden statue of a beautiful woman, named Tatsuko. The legend
surrounding this statue says that Tatsuko was a woman of great
beauty. Fearing the fleeting nature of such beauty, Tatsuko prayed at
a shrine for 100 nights that her good looks would remain. On the last
night, she received a message to drink from a holy spring. Perhaps
because of her vanity, instead of granting her everlasting beauty,
the drink turned her into a guardian dragon to watch over the lake
(Oh Tazawako Blog). However, maybe in the end she received her wish,
now that her image has been immortalized in the form of the gold
statue, made by Yasutake Funakoshi in 1968 (semboku.akita.jp).</div>
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(The Golden Tatsuko. This picture belongs to a friend of mine.)</div>
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If you were to
google image search Lake Tazawa, you would find hundreds of beautiful
landscapes, with clear skies, deep blue water, bright white boats,
and the golden charm of Tatsuko. Unfortunately, as I mentioned above,
by the time we got there it was cold and grey. Although the lake was
still beautiful, it was mostly due to the fact that nature can never
really be plain. As such, my pictures are all quite monochromatic.</div>
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Our
time was short. As we filed out of the bus, we were all handed a
prepackaged <i>bento</i>, or
boxed lunch. These were actually quite tasty, consisting of rice,
Japanese pickles, fried potato dumplings, noodle salad, hamburger
patties, fried chicken pieces, and fruit. As we munched, we gazed out
at the mountains hovering over the expansive lake. Close by was a
small shrine, flanked by beautiful stone lanterns decorated by
engraved <i>kanji</i>
characters, as well as two stone lion guardians. Many people bought
fortunes printed out on thin strips of paper called <i>omikuji</i>.
Tradition grants people a fail-safe against bad or bland fortunes, by
allowing them to tie the strips of paper to near-by ropes. This is
supposed to erase bad luck, and create a blank slate for another
chance at good luck (Wikipedia.org).</div>
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(The shrine at Lake Tozawa. You can see the stone lantern in front there, just on the sand.)</div>
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(A close up to show you the kanji inscribed in the lantern.)</div>
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(The stone lion guarding the shrine.)</div>
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(The numerous fortunes bought and tied at the shrine for better luck.)</div>
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Having finished our
meals, Justin and I went to greet the golden Tatsuko, and had our
picture taken beside her. Reaching her required a bit of dexterity,
as we crossed over jagged and wet rocks. I think perhaps you cannot
reach her if the tide is high. Thinking back now, I hope we didn't
commit a culture faux pas by going all the way out to her.
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(Me and Justin beside the beautiful Tatsuko.)</div>
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When we loaded back
on to the bus, I think we spent a mere 45 minutes at Lake Tazawa.
Someday, I hope to return on a nicer day. They offer boat trips,
which sound lovely, and I wouldn't mind going to one of the onsen or
the ski resort to gaze down at the beautiful, deep blue that Tatsuko
calls her home. </div>
Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-2459096223047612342013-01-20T21:52:00.000-08:002013-01-20T22:13:53.330-08:00Blue River and Roaring WaterfallWe have come now to a post that I have been dreaming of and
dreading since I first got the idea for this blog. While I treasure nearly
every experience I had in Japan, there are a few that rank in my absolute
favorites, and the first AIU bus trip is one of them. I have been excited to
tell everyone about the beautiful places I visited, but also worried about accurately
portraying how amazing it all was. I cannot delay the plunge forever, though,
so here it goes.<br />
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AIU does something that I wish every university, college,
and high school did: they organized field trips. Who doesn’t love a good field
trip? Why don’t teachers do this more often? Because AIU was so invested in the
international experience, part of our tuition money went towards bus trips
during which the school took you to various tourist locations in Akita
prefecture. Unfortunately for us, these outings, which were usually numerous,
had either been cancelled or squished down to a meager two trips. This was due
to fear of the frequent aftershocks from the big earthquake. Still, each trip
was filled to the brim with fun, and although they were much too short, I was
grateful to be on them at all. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The first trip consisted of three parts. The first of those
parts was a visit to a Shinto shrine near a staggeringly beautiful river fed by
a roaring waterfall. This excursion was the first thing I had really “seen” in
Japan, and it left me with a sublime feeling I have yet to encounter since. The
day was starting out perfect, with the first sunny, blue sky since we had
landed. When the bus pulled up, we were all let out and set free to roam and
explore. Before us lay a stretch of grasses, leading up to a mostly obscured
river between two wooded hills, crossed by a bright red suspension bridge.
Although the landscape was touched here and there with splashes of bright
green, over all the colors were muted browns and pine greens, for it was still
early spring. Northern Japan, like Colorado, wakes from winter slowly. Most
people headed for the most noticeable landmark, an island-like precipice rising
from the bank, topped by a few trees and a shrine marker. Justin and I made our
way to the main shrine, into the pine trees toward a trail that wound up the
side of the hills.<br />
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As we crept through the <i>torii</i>,
or the gate of the shrine, a feeling of blissful calm settled over us. Justin
and I said little, content to soak in the warmth of the sunlight, and watch as
the rays burst through the trees to dapple the ground. Many people went up to
the shrine bell to ring it and perform the claps and prayers of Shinto
tradition. I wanted to, but we hesitated. We were unsure of whether we should
partake for the sake of the experience, or hold back because neither of us
actually believed in the Shinto religion. Out of respect, we chose instead to
wash our hands with the basin provided, admire the bell, but move on. <o:p></o:p><br />
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(The little basin where you wash your hands and rinse your mouth to purify yourself.)</div>
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(A signpost at the shrine).</div>
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The path along the hills was actually quite green. Below us,
we could finally see the river clearly, and I was startled by its beautiful and
rich blue color. At times deep cobalt, at others bright aquamarine, I wondered
at the mineral in the water that must turn it such a perfect shade.
Understandably, I took many pictures, and some of my best work was found on
this walk. <o:p></o:p><br />
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(The beautiful blue of the water. I wonder what makes it so blue, and so milky.)</div>
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The path was just as beautiful as the water. Every bend
seemed to offer up a new gem of natural beauty. At one turn there was a small
cave surrounded by new spring leaves. Justin and I crossed the suspension
bridge, delighting in the bounce it gave to our steps. On the other side, there
was a natural bowl-like groove in the stone that had filled with water, and
someone had put a ladle there for drinking. The water was cold and clean and
pure in taste. A cacophony of rapids sang below us. New tree leaves hovered
silently in the golden air like sprites. Little springs trickled down the
sides, teasing at the great spectacle waiting for us at the end.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1x2x5r2_vd0V0ppyLoKv4BDj_R9EdIrZoIGPOk_O3d1bY_5lXjWApKzJYNtNC-8fKadYQBKFwiFWctepwbj9HSbMxCy83qGzunflFuRz0y19TntLCh8QEUirr305X0Or_FRbU7ptnHDQ/s1600/First+Field+Trip+059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1x2x5r2_vd0V0ppyLoKv4BDj_R9EdIrZoIGPOk_O3d1bY_5lXjWApKzJYNtNC-8fKadYQBKFwiFWctepwbj9HSbMxCy83qGzunflFuRz0y19TntLCh8QEUirr305X0Or_FRbU7ptnHDQ/s400/First+Field+Trip+059.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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(The little cave along the pathway.)</div>
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(Turquoise rapids.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNU44OpZEw3RE8JMAsR_4JfE5DAT7AF6cXTn7ETBosgjQpNhiZQ4cSVhdFehSZNQoIQCy43g8xQLlvudmMxPG1N4pLBJfby9hF4EgmWWB_cGANeOUpv0mEX2zs33UNvdYj2HNBOVW3MfU/s1600/First+Field+Trip+082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNU44OpZEw3RE8JMAsR_4JfE5DAT7AF6cXTn7ETBosgjQpNhiZQ4cSVhdFehSZNQoIQCy43g8xQLlvudmMxPG1N4pLBJfby9hF4EgmWWB_cGANeOUpv0mEX2zs33UNvdYj2HNBOVW3MfU/s400/First+Field+Trip+082.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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(A little spring falling down the mountain side, bathed in a column of light.)</div>
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For the most part, we had meandered down the path at our
leisure, but then suddenly people were running past us in the opposite
direction. Finally, someone paused to inform us that it was time to go, but
that there was an awesome waterfall up ahead. “If you run, you can make it.”
Not caring for the odd looks from other visitors, we instantly broke into a
run, praying we would find this waterfall before we were dragged back. We made
it. Although we were out of breath, it was so worth it.<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqYPs-6I0sQaTmnQwfK1ToHpKDbNfvsBKY0Q2Tgi8ytQUsEZch_MaTwiC6EK2z3phTr15KZYF7b3UNoUA17bxrAoDFWIFXvK1-9F1a4b-pw0TtyPqVtH_OI0fuL3uTa6bTnN1Al9Ht69I/s1600/First+Field+Trip+085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqYPs-6I0sQaTmnQwfK1ToHpKDbNfvsBKY0Q2Tgi8ytQUsEZch_MaTwiC6EK2z3phTr15KZYF7b3UNoUA17bxrAoDFWIFXvK1-9F1a4b-pw0TtyPqVtH_OI0fuL3uTa6bTnN1Al9Ht69I/s640/First+Field+Trip+085.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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(Roar, baby, roar!)</div>
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The photo above does not communicate how big and grand the
waterfall was. Its powerful waters broke against the rocks and threw a cool
spray over its spectators. Surely this lord of water was the inspiration for
the shrine. Its proud turbulence belied the peaceful ascent we had taken to
reach it. Thoroughly pleased, we turned back to that tranquil path, before
boarding the bus once again, ready for the next stretch of our trip. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It may seem strange that such an uneventful experience could
be among my most favorite memories of Japan. After all, we didn’t really <i>do</i> much at this river. But the scene was
so picturesque, the shrine was so peaceful, and the waterfall was so amazing,
that it has come to embody the essential beauty of Japan in my heart. Although
I do not practice Shinto, I can understand why one would find such a perfect
place worth worshiping. <o:p></o:p></div>
Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-29897532886165630622013-01-13T12:46:00.000-08:002013-01-13T12:46:13.609-08:00My Host Family<br />
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Many people who study abroad, especially high school
students, usually do so while staying with a host family. I've always been a
little jealous of these people. It sounds so cool to go home every day to a
family who is delighted to have you and your foreign-ness there. Plus you have
people who are actively invested in your study abroad experience, as opposed to
being entirely responsible for your own experience. As you know, I stayed in
the dorms during my study abroad. Of course, I had my roommate, Mai, there to hang
out with every night, but, being a student herself, she never felt really
responsible for the experience I was having.<o:p></o:p></div>
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However, just because I stayed in the dorm does not mean I
lacked a host family. In fact, AIU had a host-family system set up, where you
signed up and they matched you with a family who had also signed up. I
immediately put my name on the list, noting that I didn't mind if they only
spoke Japanese. (My Japanese is pretty good.) This program was on a first come
first serve basis, but I think because the earthquake had reduced the number of
exchange students severely, everyone who signed up got matched up. Justin,
being shy, did not sign up, but luckily my host family adopted him with open
arms. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The experience of having a host family varied between
students. I had one friend who did a lot of fun things with her host family,
but she said it was awkward because she spoke no Japanese, and they spoke no
English. Sadly, a few people were never even contacted by their host families.
Fortunately, I could not have imagined a better host family for me and Justin. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Our host family consisted of an 8 year old girl, Miu, and
her parents, whom we called “Miu-Mama” and “Miu-Papa.” On our first visit,
merely a preliminary interview-style meeting, they eagerly asked us where we
wanted to go and what we wanted to do. They spoke no English, and although my
Japanese skills were meager at first, they were patient and easy to talk to,
and over our subsequent visits my language abilities increased substantially.
Justin and I first just wanted to get to know them, and so we proposed a meal
together. It was determined that we should eat the local Akita specialty, a
dish called <i>kiritanpo</i>, at their
house. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Kiritanpo</i> are rice
dumplings made by pounding cooked rice until lightly mashed, and then molding
it around a wooden skewer and cooking it over an open flame or grill. These can
be served on their own, or are commonly added to a stew along with vegetables
like cabbage and carrots, as well as chicken. This country meal is very popular
and famous in Akita, and you can find prepackaged kiritanpo to send to your
relatives at nearly every tourist attraction in the prefecture. Despite the
fact that it was already quite warm in Japan, Miu-Mama happily agreed to make
the dish. At my request, she even cut off the chicken skin that seems to plague
all supermarket chicken in Japan.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2Q5-T-kxWND0Cr_BiDdKCJJEnC0aECGCWxs5IUKhZsktR8Z2OdgSFAQfGNz06L9nMpK6P1zLIIbk_E74nAL1vaxD_nfwVWj-VXjz5-MIWrdPA7H_dcPDDrhRXZ1A-8BpxV9tQp-JKrk/s1600/kiritanpo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2Q5-T-kxWND0Cr_BiDdKCJJEnC0aECGCWxs5IUKhZsktR8Z2OdgSFAQfGNz06L9nMpK6P1zLIIbk_E74nAL1vaxD_nfwVWj-VXjz5-MIWrdPA7H_dcPDDrhRXZ1A-8BpxV9tQp-JKrk/s400/kiritanpo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(An assembled <i>kiritanpo</i> hot pot. The white tubes in the middle are the <i>kiritanpo</i>. This is a public use photo.)</div>
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On the day of our first real visit, our host family picked
us up in the tiny parking lot at AIU. There they met my roommate, and I
secretly relished in watching their very Japanese introductions, with all the
bowing and the “<i>hajimemashite”</i> (nice
to meet you) phrasing that I practiced for hours in first-semester Japanese
class. Justin and I got into the backseat of the car with Miu, to discover they
had brought along their adorable miniature poodle named Mocha (for his coffee
coloring). To my delight, he instantly curled up on my lap. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Our host-family’s house was gorgeously clean and simply
decorated. It was quite big for a Japanese house, but that was to be expected
in a country-town like Akita. Miu showed us her room with childish enthusiasm,
and then Miu-Mama brought out a plate with cheese and crackers, as well as a
platter of expensive cookies. (Japanese people often buy pricey cookies and
hors d’oeuvres for the sole purpose of hosting guests). Then, while the <i>kiritanpo</i> cooked, we played Wii bowling
and Justin showed Miu a rhythm game on her Nintendo DS called <i>Ouendan</i> (which is very fun and highly
recommended). Miu instantly became a wiz at it, and could barely tear herself
away to eat. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Joining us to eat was a family friend who quickly became
another member of our host family, the beautiful Nepalese Rashmin and her
adorable, 2 year old, half-Japanese daughter, Koena. Rashmin was a welcome
addition, not only because she was friendly, but also because she spoke English
and could help me with phrases I didn’t know how to say in Japanese. Together,
we sat down and chatted over our <i>kiritanpo</i>,
which was warm and delicious. I loved the texture of the rice dumplings soaked
in broth. Miu-Mama and Miu-Papa told us about their jobs, and Miu told us about
school. Justin and I talked about AIU, traveling after the earthquake, and the
United States. We all cooed over Koena, especially whenever she tried to do the
hand-sign for peace, a beloved gesture in Japan and absolutely necessary in any
photos. Koena knew to do it whenever a photo was taken, but she could only hold
up her thump and first finger. Her utter confidence in the gesture made us
giggle every time. The whole scene was simultaneously ordinary and
exhilarating. I felt like I lived there, and the day seemed much too short when
we finally were driven home, with promises to meet up again soon.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHVDz3VUHxdyMJszo7gWwpxmMMvIAJBzHyy0IlgMyuE3Tyyy4oyX1FfeuXFRxYglOgeL9fzd5_fH9oomBn1WrSQ8j-38l7wJQ_TrgX-8yspMEj4QyM4yz6HVFblmjIaHSzBQvr65WAqM/s1600/hostfamily1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigHVDz3VUHxdyMJszo7gWwpxmMMvIAJBzHyy0IlgMyuE3Tyyy4oyX1FfeuXFRxYglOgeL9fzd5_fH9oomBn1WrSQ8j-38l7wJQ_TrgX-8yspMEj4QyM4yz6HVFblmjIaHSzBQvr65WAqM/s400/hostfamily1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(Me, Justin, Miu, and little Koena. You can see her here trying to make a peace sign. <3 )</div>
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In various subsequent posts, you’ll read about more meet-ups
I had with my host family. Each visit is a cherished memory, and I feel
uncommon warmth whenever I think of them. I hope to stay in touch with them,
though I have been quite terrible at it so far. Life gets in the way, but I
really want to maintain our friendship. I know that they added richness and
delight to my trip abroad, and I hope that Justin and I returned some of it.
Japan can seem a very unwelcoming place to foreigners, especially in the
countryside where many people have never seen a non-Asian face. However, Miu
and her parents proved that there are some who will welcome new people and new
cultures with smiles, and believe the exchange to be an act of both giving and
receiving. I think that eager openness is at the heart of traveling, and what I
think AIU strives to embody and promote. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMstlreQGZDvX866VhyphenhyphentOa8xTd7qtBUOrKStaiO0YYeXud7o3i4d4pN8OEjbB6FMaJmUoda6QbNdYgztVmM0XOkhR4K70kx_LFfMXbKIjIB5Hh4ogA7mpAz6qsVxEZwInL-l0DCnRxX2k/s1600/hostfamily2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMstlreQGZDvX866VhyphenhyphentOa8xTd7qtBUOrKStaiO0YYeXud7o3i4d4pN8OEjbB6FMaJmUoda6QbNdYgztVmM0XOkhR4K70kx_LFfMXbKIjIB5Hh4ogA7mpAz6qsVxEZwInL-l0DCnRxX2k/s400/hostfamily2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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(All of us around the delicious <i>kiritanpo. </i>Miu-Mama is holding Koena.)</div>
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Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-46908665710784215882013-01-05T14:32:00.000-08:002013-01-05T14:49:31.549-08:00Hina Matsuri<br />
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Hello, my long awaiting readers (though you may be few).
After a terribly long absence, I am finally back, with a new blog post. First,
I would like to apologize for the delay. I know that, personally, it drives me
crazy when a favorite blogger or comic artist suddenly disappears and doesn’t
post anything new for months or sometimes years. I never wanted to be that
person, but in the end my personal life just became too overwhelming to
maintain posts. Of course there was university, but there was also the stress
of a new job, as well as my boyfriend’s hip surgery, which rendered him
completely helpless for a long time. A few other incidental stresses worked
together with these major ones to sap not only my motivation to write, but
also, quite honestly, my happiness. Only recently have I overcome a bout of
mild depression, and I am trying my best to keep up my spirits. I really think
devoting myself again to this blog will help. Writing has always been a sweet
escape from the stresses of daily life, but reminiscing about fun times abroad
is also a nice reminder that I have a good life worth appreciating.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So without further ado, I would like to return you to the
tales of my trip to Japan, to talk about one of my favorite Japanese cultural
traits: <i>matsuri</i>, or festivals. Japan
is really a country of festivals. There are so many, that it would be
impossible to count. The most common kind of festival is the kind often seen in
anime shows. These are local festivals that celebrate some deity or another,
and usually include cordoned off streets filled with stalls selling everything
from finger foods to masks and fans. There are also often carnival-style games,
floats, and street performers. In a later post, I will describe my own experience
with such a celebration. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Some festivals are
celebrated nation-wide, such as <i>Obon</i>,
a festival for one’s ancestors, <i>Tanabata</i>,
a wish-making festival, or <i>kodomo no hi</i>,
a celebration of children. In some regions the dates and various traditions of
these festivals vary, but they are all observed with at least a few similar
customs. During <i>Obon</i>, family gets
together to share in a feast and remember relatives, as well as visit family
graves and place food before the stones, which are often pretty sculptures made
of sugar. There is also usually a dance, which varies by region, to honor the
dead. At the end, paper lanterns are floated down rivers to carry the spirits
back to the realm of the dead. (Wikipedia.org). <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Tanabata</i> is a
festival which celebrates the meeting of two lover deities, Orihime and
Hikoboshi, embodied in two constellations, which are, in the West, Vega and
Altair, respectively (Wikipedia.org). These two lovers are only able to meet
once a year because of the distance separating them in the sky. During this
meeting, people write wishes to the gods on pieces of paper and then hang them
from a strip of bamboo (Wikipedia.org).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Kodomo no hi</i>, or
children’s day, is exactly what it sounds like: a day to celebrate children.
The tradition is to raising carp-shaped flags called <i>koi no bori</i>, one for each child. The different colors and sizes
designate age. Originally, this day was only for boys, and only the male
children were celebrated, but it was changed in 1948 and was deemed to
celebrate all children. However, the festival remains mostly geared towards
boys (Wikipedia.org).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRar54b5zySb_uGp6Lr51xR1dAppC3xS0G9UMLfbR9LRUanwri0kpsOAAx4XnsuB3hAUI-p3PGdBE6TWUJDPmCorigNfSl_b50SR61MtIUX_uJhFcDkWnOtXZ05uZOFJn1Uq4Yt2ULeI/s1600/blogkodomo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRar54b5zySb_uGp6Lr51xR1dAppC3xS0G9UMLfbR9LRUanwri0kpsOAAx4XnsuB3hAUI-p3PGdBE6TWUJDPmCorigNfSl_b50SR61MtIUX_uJhFcDkWnOtXZ05uZOFJn1Uq4Yt2ULeI/s400/blogkodomo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Luckily, girls get their festival, as well. This festival,
called <i>hina matsuri</i>, was the first
festival I encountered in Japan. <i>Hina
matsuri</i> translates into “doll festival.” The origins behind this festival
stem from the belief that dolls contained real spirits, which could turn
malignant if not respected (Wikipedia.org). To this day, many Japanese people
carry the suspicion that dolls having feelings and must not be insulted. However, the main purpose of the holiday is to
display a specific set of dolls and admire their beauty. The dolls depict an
emperor and empress, as well as their entourage, including ladies-in-waiting,
guards, musicians, and even their luggage and pack animal. These dolls are set
out in a specific order on a stepped platform covered in red cloth. A complete
set is often very expensive, and is usually a family heirloom, passed on from mother
to daughter. (If any of you have seen the original seasons of Pokemon, these
dolls are the dolls that Misty and Jesse compete to win in a particular battle
competition.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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AIU had a set of dolls displayed in a special tatami room.
People were welcome to come and look at it, though at the time I was still new
to the school and too timid to inspect the dolls closely. Fortunately, when I
went to go look with a friend, some school officials and the lady who had
generously lent AIU the dolls were preparing to pack them up (the festival was
at an end). They invited me and my friend to help put them away, and allowed me
to take a few pictures before they went back to sleep in their boxes. <o:p></o:p><br />
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I was most struck by the amazing attention to detail that
went into the dolls. As you can see in the photos, the clothes are absolutely
gorgeous, with tiny details that seem like whispers from a bygone age of
craftsmanship. The tea-set is so detailed that the whisk for the matcha powder
looks practically usable. I wasn’t sure what I expected the dolls to be made of
(perhaps porcelain) but they were actually made of high quality plastic, which
made them feel so light and delicate in my hands. The set even included two
trees, as well as two cherry blossom-print lanterns which would turn on if
plugged in. I felt so lucky to have the chance to handle the dolls and
appreciate them up close, and I have since become determined to own a set
myself someday. I will celebrate this beautiful <i>matsuri</i> with my future daughter. <o:p></o:p></div>
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(The Emperor in his regal kimono. I love the pattern on his kimono and also his hat.)</div>
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(The Empress with her delicately painted fan. This fan was only a bit bigger than a quarter, and yet not a line on that heron is misplaced.)</div>
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(One of the royal attendants. This one is in a sitting pose, cradling a small stand with two tea cups.)</div>
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(The royal tea set, complete with hot water in the center, a ladle on the right, and a tiny whisk on the left.)</div>
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I was delighted to have experienced this festival, as well
as a few others, during my stay in Japan. If you are interested in catching a
few festivals yourself, I recommend traveling to Japan during the summer
months, when festival saturation is at its highest. It seems like you cannot go
a single week without a local festival breaking out (often as local as
individual neighborhoods), and many of the major, national ones occur in the
summer, as well. <i>Hina matsuri</i> is in
March, <i>Kodomo no hi</i> is in May, <i><u>Tanabata</u></i> is in July, and <i>Obon</i> is in August. Of course, there are
many other festivals during every part of the year, but summertime is like one
big celebration, when hard-working students and salary-men and women escape the
pressures of responsibility to don a yukata and watch fireworks. <o:p></o:p></div>
Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-75599954070293935542012-07-09T00:19:00.004-07:002012-07-09T00:21:14.009-07:00Cicada Songs: The Perfect Accompaniment to the Summer Heat<br />
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Coming from a small town in the
mountains of Colorado, I am no stranger to encountering wildlife on a
regular basis. I am familiar with the faces, behavior, and vehicular
dangers of deer, elk, mountain goats, big horn sheep, and even moose.
I have heard the calls of red-tailed hawks, coyotes, owls, and
cougars. Bald eagles nest in trees by my parents' house, while a fox
family lives in the nearby hill. I've even seen a mother black bear
and her cubs from the comfortable safety of my vehicle parked at a
distance. Despite all this interaction with the wild, the animal life
in Akita was a completely new experience to me. While I didn't wake
up to herd of dear on the front lawn, I felt more surrounded by
wildlife than I had in a long while. (Perhaps I've grown soft in my
years of living in Boulder.) Sometimes this closeness was nice and
refreshing; other times, it left my skin crawling. Sometimes, I
didn't even see the animals, and yet they were a strong presence in
my life nonetheless.
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The difference between the nature of
Colorado and that of Akita is based on the humidity. Akita is so much
wetter than Colorado, so the plants and flowers thrive in a way they
never could in Colorado—and so do the bugs.
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<i>Oh my gosh, the bugs</i>. Colorado
does not have bugs; not compared to Akita. The sheer number of them
left me speechless and hallucinating crawling sensations on my skin
while I tried to sleep. The spiders were the worst. During the day
they'd go off to hide in some cool hidden nooks, thankfully out of my
sight, but at night they came home like commuters rushing from
cubicle jobs. They hung over every single entry way, dangling
lightly, making most doors impassable. I had to rush under them,
squealing like a child, for fear of them dropping onto my hair. When
I was walking through the streets at night, or through the forest
during the day (I didn't go at night), I would find the webs of the
rumored giant spiders that I, thankfully, never actually encountered.
I am so grateful, because those webs were huge. Giant. Enormous. They
spanned at least three feet wide, often more. I cannot even imagine a
spider big enough to make them.
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And it wasn't just the spiders that
were big. There were beetles as long as fingers and twice as thick.
The dragonflies, fed fat on the numerous mosquitoes, sounded like
lawnmowers when they flew by my ears. Justin (my boyfriend) even saw
a caterpillar a foot long and almost two inches thick, scooting along
the sidewalk. Can you imagine the size of the butterfly or moth THAT
thing became?
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There was a stairwell near my dorm
that once served me as a convenient quick route back to my room,
instead of going all the way around. That convenience ended around
July, when the bugs deemed that staircase the perfect place to go
when their lives were ending. So many dead beetles found those stairs
as their final resting place. I once stepped on one by mistake on my
way to class. It made a large crunch, and when I looked, I expected
to see the bug in shatters. Instead, its exterior skeleton sprung
back into place, and it looked almost alive. Gross.
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It wasn't all disgusting, however. The
dragonflies in Akita are beautiful, brilliant colors. From a safe
distance, even the spiders are kind of cool. Check out the picture
below of a spider I found with a leaf for a house. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5YYHH9jPEjs44YM07a0XBygI87SlqPqyl8cmdd3xMg4JCDVk9OD4aWCF9oqn_8WVq2PxgYVj4Rr105EL5teL3jc48fgLRyjfa3AjTkKeA-dFWePFANAJjEtoETjcztV3DghZjUIl-U4/s1600/japan+july+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX5YYHH9jPEjs44YM07a0XBygI87SlqPqyl8cmdd3xMg4JCDVk9OD4aWCF9oqn_8WVq2PxgYVj4Rr105EL5teL3jc48fgLRyjfa3AjTkKeA-dFWePFANAJjEtoETjcztV3DghZjUIl-U4/s320/japan+july+015.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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During the height
of the summer, the cicadas invaded the lands, filling the air with
their constant buzz. I never could find one in the trees to take a
picture of, in spite of their incomprehensible numbers. At night,
when they stopped humming, the world seemed eerily silent, like an
empty apartment after a night standing next to the speakers at a loud
party. The spiders had the added bonus of providing me with
entertainment while I ate lunch. Looking out the cafeteria windows, I
could see them in the corners of the window panes outside, and so
could the birds. It was fascinating watching the sparrows dart in
and out, expertly taking away an tasty arachnid in their beaks.</div>
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Akita also had frogs, whose songs
replaced that of the cicadas at night. Justin and I heard their calls
everywhere when we walked through the forest near campus, and yet we
could never find them. The only one I managed to actually see was one
sitting on a leaf near a Buddhist shrine, silent and motionless like
a monk himself. When I showed the picture I took to my roommate, she
made a disgusted face; I was disappointed. Apparently people in Japan
don't find frogs as cute as people in the States. (He was adorable.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIR0vUdGAZ3xd9WeNm46T6GNmBuYyG-fFP7NE2tHHnqD2ECbYiVh_CjORP0-s0x5mB4X3OR6q9aAGTiOlmiTFQONf18aT6d3nTw9iorq5sO-9689vmSRRkS0Z2BToBp2fC5oTBmG36O88/s1600/Namahage+and+Others+169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIR0vUdGAZ3xd9WeNm46T6GNmBuYyG-fFP7NE2tHHnqD2ECbYiVh_CjORP0-s0x5mB4X3OR6q9aAGTiOlmiTFQONf18aT6d3nTw9iorq5sO-9689vmSRRkS0Z2BToBp2fC5oTBmG36O88/s320/Namahage+and+Others+169.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The most constant animal figure during
my stay was the local bear. Every week there was a new bear warning,
usually saying that the bear had been seen near the convenience store
down the block. There were even signs around that said “Caution
Bears.” This made the native English speakers laugh, (since it
should have said “Caution, Bears”) and we imagined the bear
wearing a bright orange vest while warning passers-by of the various
dangers of AIU. The bear was supposedly an Asian Black-Bear which I
have heard are more aggressive than Grizzlies and frequently attack
humans. Still, there were no attacks that semester, and so the bear
remained merely a scary rumor in our daily lives, and a reason to be
noisy when walking in the forest—so as not to sneak up on it by
mistake.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9DzTqbDMCdemnlVwhI89aIVdglbeVJQdwpD6gBAGK1Rl4HkJTdVtAh_DvhaZqosDaNaBkUSFgPTZ3MZFx4sJchCM5e8twt5NDEOwtkTpkQAeOJWBl06HKru_FDRjQmdTxT_T9A6bdfY/s1600/bear.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_9DzTqbDMCdemnlVwhI89aIVdglbeVJQdwpD6gBAGK1Rl4HkJTdVtAh_DvhaZqosDaNaBkUSFgPTZ3MZFx4sJchCM5e8twt5NDEOwtkTpkQAeOJWBl06HKru_FDRjQmdTxT_T9A6bdfY/s320/bear.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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(Picture from wikipedia. So cute and yet so scary.)</div>
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Another friendlier, more welcome
animal presence in Akita were the numerous cats. There are a huge
number of stray cats in Japan, perhaps because of all the seafood.
They tend to gather in large groups wherever there are enough people
to pamper them, and the AIU campus was one such hotspot. Each cat we
encountered was sweet and docile, accepting our coddling with almost
princely satisfaction. I often passed laundry hours by spoiling the
nearby cats, or watching them have small territorial disputes. On
paper, AIU had to periodically get rid of the cats—in the worst
sense of the phrase—but the lady in charge of the distasteful duty
always made as much noise as possible when she was supposed to round
them up. With such ample notice, the cats usually made an easy get
away, going on to live another day fed by bleeding heart students who
left out cans of food bought from the convenience store.
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My trip was filled with cameos of
other animals in addition to the usual cast. Koi fish often followed
my feet as I walked, begging for crumbs. I watched seabirds and hawks
dance on the wind at Cape Nyudo on the Oga Peninsula. Every once in a
while I'd spot a rabbit flitting across the grass at AIU. In many
ways the change in animal life made me yearn for the familiar blue
spruce pines of the Colorado woods; and yet many of the creatures I
encountered made my visit to Japan especially satisfying because I
had anticipated seeing them. Almost every anime I have watched
includes a summer scene filled with the buzzing of cicadas. Koi fish
are as iconic of Japan as girls in kimono or cherry blossoms. Even
the stray cats are a famous characteristic of the island nation,
appearing in such beloved pieces as the
movie <i>The Cat Returns</i>,
and the darling show <i>Azumanga Daioh</i>.
Although I can't say I miss the abundance of bug life, the wildlife
reminded me of how lush the nature of Akita is, and how lucky I was
to experience its beauty.
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(This cat was not so happy to see us. In fact, it was really pissed that we interrupted its nap.)</div>
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(A hunting hawk at Cape Nyudo. This picture doesn't communicate how big and beautiful and close they were, but it's the best picture I managed to capture!)</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzzGk6RUOMtnO5hw6Kt0gvFyUeINkapzTYoMFwAAU9a9jJCYfuwOKB2LXyPpG8uu8aFtLsVbYTYCnhma9tYNg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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(A short video to let you hear the hum of the cicadas. Now imagine this from 10am until 6pm, constantly. You might have to turn up your volume, a bit.)</div>
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</div>Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-45267360321616084332012-06-28T23:53:00.000-07:002012-09-17T23:04:21.687-07:00Exploration: Abroad and at Home<br />
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The last few blog posts have been about
very specific details of my trip abroad and about the culture
surrounding them. Toilets and vending machines in Japan are awesome.
I was there in time for the cherry blossoms, and they were amazing. I
joined a <i>nihon buyo</i> club and
had a great time learning a traditional dance. But some experiences
of traveling cannot be condensed into single events or specific
details. Some experiences are built up over many events, constructed
from feelings and impressions. One such experience for me while I was
in Japan was the experience of exploration.
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In a
new country, exploration occurs pretty much constantly. You are
exploring the sidewalks you walk on, the people you encounter, the
culture around you. Sometimes, you even go out and intentionally
explore, taking the unusual path and getting lost on purpose, for the
sake a wholly individualized experience. For me, exploring like this
was <i>so much fun</i>. I
could describe it with prettier words; it was exhilarating,
inspirational, exciting. But really, the best phrase for it is just
pure, unadulterated <i>fun</i>.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
During
the early part of my visit, I wandered away from the classrooms and
dormitory on a rare occasion when it wasn't raining. It wasn't sunny,
but the lack of rain was good enough for me. Taking along my camera,
I drifted towards some unspecific direction, with really no purpose
in mind except to look at whatever there was to see. Although I was
familiar with the buildings in the center of campus, I had no idea
what was behind them or what the mysterious section of woods off to
the side contained. So I decided to just walk around. I kept my
camera on to record what I saw and my random musings, for posterity's
sake, or something like that. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
What I
discovered was a street lined with cherry trees; a cute, little
convenience store a short block away; a couple picturesque farm
plots; a bike rental company; and a large, beautiful garden behind
the campus. This garden contained a myriad of unfamiliar plants,
trees, and flowers. I was fascinated by the lack of grass, which
usually covers American garden-parks. Instead, there was soft,
fragrant moss everywhere—even on the pathways. And then, I found a
bridge.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uMse30dbaPXOrC2Cty77jwsGiGET05CKgYxxptTcj-1uB_MVgs_67jeX4vW_yW5sxd8_sPn9T9UipbQlQnOI4utLY-s1GF5dL4xeTePK_qfiFP2iWHdUq0ZHnAOfl3VlX13Ij8Wt5jA/s1600/campus+60.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6uMse30dbaPXOrC2Cty77jwsGiGET05CKgYxxptTcj-1uB_MVgs_67jeX4vW_yW5sxd8_sPn9T9UipbQlQnOI4utLY-s1GF5dL4xeTePK_qfiFP2iWHdUq0ZHnAOfl3VlX13Ij8Wt5jA/s320/campus+60.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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(The magnificent bridge, surrounded by leafless trees of early spring.)</div>
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It's
almost embarrassing how excited I was to find this bridge. It felt
like I was walking through the wardrobe into Narnia or using the rope
to cross the creek into Terabithia. I had no idea where it would take
me, but it looked so mysterious. The thrill grew as I chanced upon
sets of stairs leading in two directions. The first path led me to a
house and another farm; turning back, the second one led into the
heart of the woods near the campus. I discovered a series of raised
wooden pathways over creeks that spindled out like capillaries. I
noticed how remarkably different the pine trees were compared to my
home in Colorado; tall and bare until close to the top where they
flourished out in dark green, soft needles. I found a kind of bright
green tree with delicate leaves that seemed to float in the air on
barely noticeable, thin branches. A couple branches of some tree had
wound around each other, forming a rope-like structure that looked
man-made. Fiddle ferns grew on the ground, curled up so they appeared
almost alien. Although it was not some raw, untouched forest, it felt
entirely undiscovered and revolutionary to me. I was disappointed
when I came out the other side, finding myself once again near the
campus buildings.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7SBgaaAXxb4y29oeVC2_gUmMuKhfE9vsUFC1tzOuWIC01M6QFF4xmNy9uCuA9wedeHNpJbxs_xsWh5n095PKs240RJu9EN64_imfSl5d73gt6aPlbb4mM_UDgIZUPUvCEbusnTw-HGg/s1600/campus+61.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7SBgaaAXxb4y29oeVC2_gUmMuKhfE9vsUFC1tzOuWIC01M6QFF4xmNy9uCuA9wedeHNpJbxs_xsWh5n095PKs240RJu9EN64_imfSl5d73gt6aPlbb4mM_UDgIZUPUvCEbusnTw-HGg/s320/campus+61.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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(The stairs that went up.)</div>
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(The stairs that went down.)</div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Luckily,
these exploration experiences peppered my entire stay in Japan. I
followed an unknown path beyond a lighthouse during a school
excursion to find myself standing a hundred feet over a beautiful,
rocky coastline. Hawks and large sea-birds dove and surfed the winds
around me. There, a nice couple offered to take my picture. Back at
campus, I took an afternoon to explore to the books in the library,
discovering illustrated books on Japanese folklore, an interesting
book on the history of chemistry, and texts on traditional dances of
obscure cultures. Thoroughly exploring shops at the mall exposed me
to the nearly infinite variety of “cute” merchandise in Japan,
delicious watermelon puree drink and, conversely, gross placenta
drink, as well as super expensive taco ingredients (which were too
pricey even for my desperate taco cravings).
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzm9ElTJcLudxbQo955_Cnj6JctZRGr0SDVa0nQgTIpjizfBzAD7DKH2CpCVY3nPvB9IUg_FFYC1Fq0Fhm-dmzQXlr92ucBa5GX3CdzXxiapOWJMYZcLq3lzCLqwAmlmw8ZLQf_QQ7sAg/s1600/Namahage+and+Others+052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzm9ElTJcLudxbQo955_Cnj6JctZRGr0SDVa0nQgTIpjizfBzAD7DKH2CpCVY3nPvB9IUg_FFYC1Fq0Fhm-dmzQXlr92ucBa5GX3CdzXxiapOWJMYZcLq3lzCLqwAmlmw8ZLQf_QQ7sAg/s320/Namahage+and+Others+052.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(The beautiful, tempting path beyond the lighthouse. How could you not explore it?)</div>
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The
results of my explorations were always interesting and rewarding, but
the real pleasure came from the exploration itself. Simply giving
myself over to curiosity and welcoming any result filled me with pure
happiness and a cleansing sensation. My existence in those moments
was not complicated. I had no preferences, but I was interested in
everything. I had no goals, but I felt accomplished whenever I made a
found something new. I think this basic level of curiosity rivaled
that of an infant. The world was new and amazing to me, and even the
smallest detail contained endless entertainment. I think it is the
purest state of being; to explore the world, to observe the world, to
delight in the world.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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The
experience was so impressive, that I think I have been chasing after
it since I've returned, like searching for the sensation of a first
high. Curiosity and exploration gets lost in the bustle of the every
day. Responsibilities or even just weariness keep us from opening
ourselves up to experiences that have no purpose; they stop us from
indulging or perhaps even noticing our natural curiosity. In light of
my experiences abroad, I am trying to change this in my life. It's
not easy. I have classes and homework and regular work and chores
just like everyone else. Not to mention, my boyfriend is currently
less mobile due to a hip injury, and my desire to include him in my
adventures often prevents me from having them at all. But I forget
that curiosity doesn't always mean going out and finding some unknown
path in the woods. It can mean turning on my computer and reading
about some new fact, then following that interest and learning more.
For example, I just finished reading an National Geographic article
about the leading theory on how the statues of Easter Island were
transported from miles away. I realized I really don't know anything
about Easter Island. Instead of just letting my interest end with the
article, later I'm going to do some reading about the island and
learn more about the culture and its history. Following a curiosity,
no matter whether its in concrete or digital form, is always
stimulating; and for me, often has the added bonus of inspiring
stories I can write.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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There
may be no point to indulging in curiosity. It doesn't always provide
any rewards except perhaps as a conversation piece. It doesn't make
money; it doesn't get anything <i>done</i>.
However, I really believe curiosity is the most defining and basic
characteristic of the human species. Humans love to learn, which is
something we often forget when looking at education and homework, but
it's true. We want to know things just for the sake of knowing them;
because they're interesting, because they're fun. Perhaps that is a
goal and a reward enough in itself. So go out and explore, even if
it's just from your couch.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQkCxfsQdafOGnrF_h4VkS6b-sDrf9ax4Zw0AWJdbkyWbbWFilCuqFfLhf8qN8UdkLpSeqJNmcOT-IJ3bE_PjcoAZTirtlN41zosc-BajAqy0OD0mywvQ0mb3peztduBMNDe_eZflots/s1600/campus+36.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQkCxfsQdafOGnrF_h4VkS6b-sDrf9ax4Zw0AWJdbkyWbbWFilCuqFfLhf8qN8UdkLpSeqJNmcOT-IJ3bE_PjcoAZTirtlN41zosc-BajAqy0OD0mywvQ0mb3peztduBMNDe_eZflots/s320/campus+36.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(The <i>sakura</i> lined street near campus.)</div>
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(The mossy pathways and bright green trees of the garden-park.)</div>
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(The awesome twisted wood in the forest.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1zTXS67kaY44qQMTLArQEA9Y8VLywklRShQW8KzdQ6PXDR6YZC4cufb0J05vVsI3HfS_70RnyP_MmwMNKSN68vv1Jd6X2xR8wsGa_Jqxh_xqvNsZ242WyKYHcPB_EvTQDfpToP0yn2o/s1600/campus+79.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM1zTXS67kaY44qQMTLArQEA9Y8VLywklRShQW8KzdQ6PXDR6YZC4cufb0J05vVsI3HfS_70RnyP_MmwMNKSN68vv1Jd6X2xR8wsGa_Jqxh_xqvNsZ242WyKYHcPB_EvTQDfpToP0yn2o/s320/campus+79.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(Floating leaves.)</div>
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(A bad, blurry pic of the fiddle ferns that look like they're from Star Trek.)</div>
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Below are some of the videos I took while exploring. I swear I'm not as ditzy as I think I sound. I apologize for the awful quality. :) Also my camera has a time limit on videos, so some of them start/cut abruptly. Again, sorry.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzPlB1zdvwlbEyXCcq2QVAWt6_cMJFipCmvCPVXrdc0gzbfnPVoHqZp9YNWTypJN5ZM3dgsc0jK7UvQxjN-bQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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The tree lined path. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxJng_6UHUo9ZVaZuVBMe5UkxAEYZ3qoYz7twGqeZS-K7yomBHXnY4J27WdScHSo0I2yHlfrlvzV2a89gScOQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Exploring the garden, interrupted by a full memory.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxPSd49XUz8giWPXvFDQTrf6g1RKIKTFbeU2JY1_Yreeitb_mwYs1kj4E_vSOd96JM66hQxQBpvTYQpS4lr8w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Continuation of the exploration of the garden.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwNpfWMSyh6XoTaJy4QD6PTPrj-PQ4lZ59SAAVzGiOOfJ6u7FD1FSCc341fh2-gi5eOkqzgILGoLKAaeUrtIA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Discovering the bridge. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzFItLsEPSgXK_OROa5sshBSvLU7K1jb7ZH7Cv30AMYXbfrbeW-jaHkc8oz6KJSIBpOHH98P0j2UBWOLOFqUQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br />
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Wandering up the stairs.</div>
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Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-18881745574298758332012-06-12T21:36:00.000-07:002012-06-12T21:36:50.228-07:00Parties under the cherry blossoms<br />
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When I went to Japan, spring was just spreading over the
island nation. Of course, Japan is probably most famous for its beautiful <i>sakura</i>, or cherry blossoms, that bloom
across the country like a pink wave. They begin as early as the end of January
in the far south, and finish as late as May in the northern island of Hokkaido.
In Akita, the cherry blossoms arrived in late April, just after I got there, as
if an earthquake-shattered Japan was donning her best kimono to distract me
from the shambles around her. Cherry blossoms bloom quite suddenly, with entire
trees bursting into cloud-like fluff seemingly overnight. Just as quickly as
they appear, they fade within a couple weeks, gently sprinkling their petals
over the ground like tears until they are spent and green leaves has taken
their place. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The Japanese love <i>sakura</i>
more than any other flower. It has been depicted in paintings, lauded in poems,
and glorified as the national flower. The <i>sakura</i>
mark the 100 yen coin. It is a popular girl’s name, <i>Sakura</i> have even been made into sweets. The blooming of the cherry
tree is both a happy and melancholic event. As the harbingers of spring, it
represents renewal, harmony, growth, and beauty. However, their rapid disappearance
carries symbols of death, impermanence, and letting go. This duality is a
common theme in the Japanese religion*, especially the Buddhist elements. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the positive associations with the <i>sakura</i> is the tradition of <i>hanami</i>, or flower viewing. “Flower
viewing” is a literal translation, although there is no real, concise English equivalent
that communicates the same concept. <i>Hanami</i>
is <i>hanami</i>. It is the tradition of
going out with family or friends to sit under the blooming cherry trees to
watch and appreciate their beauty. It is a chance to feel a sense of oneness
with nature. It is also a party, often including lots of drinking, picnic food,
and rowdy behavior.</div>
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The <i>hanami</i> has a
long history in Japan. Although records of the gatherings are found in Japan’s
first historical texts, such as the <i>Nihon
Shoki</i>, dating them as far back as the 3<sup>rd</sup> century, the tradition
is said to have really begun in the Nara Period (710-794), with its full form
and <i>sakura</i>-only focus beginning in
the Heian Period (794-1185). Like many beloved Japanese traditions, it began as
an activity for the wealthy and high class, and eventually found its way into
the hearts of the common folk. It is so firmly rooted in the culture that it is
enjoyed by nearly everyone in the nation, and news stations even have daily
reports in the spring to show exactly where the <i>sakura</i> are beginning to bloom. Schools take their students on <i>hanami</i> outings, families crowd the parks
with their children, eating <i>obento</i>
(packed lunches) beneath the shade, and friends gather together to drink and
enjoy the brief time of the cherry tree in full bloom. The tradition of <i>hanami</i> communicates the same sentiments
of the <i>sakura</i>, perhaps even more so.
It especially emphasizes the idea of <i>“ichi
go, ichi e,” </i>which means “One moment, one encounter.” English speakers may
be more familiar with the equivalent of <i>“carpe
diem</i>,”<i> </i>“seize the day,” or “live in
the moment.” The <i>sakura</i> are a brief
beauty, and the <i>hanami </i>is the best way
to enjoy them while they last. (<a href="http://thinkjapanblog.com/sakura-hanami-flower-viewing.html">http://thinkjapanblog.com/sakura-hanami-flower-viewing.html</a>)<b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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In a culture where many people are disregarding their
heritage and old traditions, <i>hanami</i>
and the love of <i>sakura</i> is one example
of a tradition that continues to remain strong even in the face of constant
technological development, busy work schedules, and endless distractions. Even
the most overloaded salary man, the busiest housewife, and the most absorbed
gaming or texting teen gather together to enjoy an afternoon of <i>hanami</i>. <i>Hanami</i> and <i>sakura</i> are the
essence of Japan and the Japanese people.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For someone from dry Colorado, the sheer number of cherry
trees and the culture surrounding them was completely astounding. I spent a lot
of time trying to take as many pictures and videos of the blooms as I could, always
aware of their ephemeral nature. I watched the gradual invasion of green with
apprehension, despairing at the scattering dead but still beautiful petals on
the ground.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I delighted at
discovering how many different kinds of cherry trees were on the AIU campus.
Below, you can see a small sampling I collected. The shapes are so beautiful
and distinct, and yet they all carry the same emotional symbolism. Someday, I will do a small, watercolor painting of this shot. According to
Japan-Guide.com, there are over 100 kinds of cherry trees in Japan. The
different kinds range in the number of petals, their general shape, the way
they hang on the tree, their color (white to bright pink, as well as yellow),
and the location and length of their blooming period. Some of them are wild,
but most of them are cultivated. I think the three below are called <i>imose, soushunzakura, </i>and <i>akebono</i>, from left to right. (Those are
only my guesses!) (<a href="http://www7b.biglobe.ne.jp/~mainn/sakura/sakura.html">http://www7b.biglobe.ne.jp/~mainn/sakura/sakura.html</a>)
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidN7JEvv9DYz6yrgwuGVuuSHBmFsmT_74Vmjx5K6I8zVzaCH2SPYbDClLFcxAR9r6lT8__ZzBf2evlQ4I__QN3YfTVgjZmbUe8OyN7tC_RZiOyH3MQWnhjdd8GRp8WtMToLbBD8OTgk14/s1600/campus+20.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidN7JEvv9DYz6yrgwuGVuuSHBmFsmT_74Vmjx5K6I8zVzaCH2SPYbDClLFcxAR9r6lT8__ZzBf2evlQ4I__QN3YfTVgjZmbUe8OyN7tC_RZiOyH3MQWnhjdd8GRp8WtMToLbBD8OTgk14/s320/campus+20.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The scattered trees around campus were beautiful, but there
is nothing like seeing dozens of trees clustered together. My trip to a town
called Kakunodate was the perfect chance to see that the beauty of<i> sakura</i> grows exponentially with each
additional tree.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCBiNEa0fQzxHgGIdtOIFwXvpnrv5XmYjMADsevgC_uMWs_6cYBE_UOLOSj8S_ikYVnlRp4-DzjeyS8LA7NIlyiHrdtLz48QsclHGoAMoxNyaOqa04WRBCgQyOHyeZJth2MIBLRmKJH4/s1600/First+Field+Trip+252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCBiNEa0fQzxHgGIdtOIFwXvpnrv5XmYjMADsevgC_uMWs_6cYBE_UOLOSj8S_ikYVnlRp4-DzjeyS8LA7NIlyiHrdtLz48QsclHGoAMoxNyaOqa04WRBCgQyOHyeZJth2MIBLRmKJH4/s320/First+Field+Trip+252.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Their splendor made
the rainy days of early spring as far from dreary as possible. And yet, I did
not feel the rumored sadness when the last petal fell. The lush green that had
replaced the pink was just as gorgeous. Perhaps I am not familiar enough with
their passing, or the intense heat of the Japanese summers, but I felt only
invigoration from the blooming of the <i>sakura</i>,
and the green summer with its new flowers continued the inspiration. I think I
focused on the symbolism of rebirth and somehow missed the melancholy meaning
of death. All I know is that the memory of those beautiful pink and white
clouds springs to my mind’s eye with ease, the feel of the petals lingers of my
fingertips, and the curious floral yet fruity taste of <i>sakura </i>ice cream still dances on my tongue. The <i>sakura</i> may be evanescent, but the
delight of my memories is constant.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Below are some of the best pictures of <i>sakura</i> I (or my boyfriend) took while in Japan. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinMMltfVSMvFCDEDVMIT08oYYN1Nn92-yalSK_c-4yFQ6CINDjPMaXW9kGlZMliTFYc5pwrtpctdPKCgPTHnBGdrQQ3jDQtfTRFkt9_HLMPxeyRfnP75Ek9ei5Hyi75-iquJ20TKT-E2I/s1600/First+Field+Trip+217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinMMltfVSMvFCDEDVMIT08oYYN1Nn92-yalSK_c-4yFQ6CINDjPMaXW9kGlZMliTFYc5pwrtpctdPKCgPTHnBGdrQQ3jDQtfTRFkt9_HLMPxeyRfnP75Ek9ei5Hyi75-iquJ20TKT-E2I/s320/First+Field+Trip+217.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(Me by the pinkest <i>sakura</i> I could find.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDoymzfqbrUjTqrs18OFh3PbAWXwc_-ZS8tiNxVr-shp6NfE214nJHrkRNqC8MJ4hzk5Lflz7MxR0mrTicLODHIySYS6Q4Z6IvdZKNw1hw4ZJUu40AmtBQdzW66mysjez2otyXCkwSawg/s1600/First+Field+Trip+247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDoymzfqbrUjTqrs18OFh3PbAWXwc_-ZS8tiNxVr-shp6NfE214nJHrkRNqC8MJ4hzk5Lflz7MxR0mrTicLODHIySYS6Q4Z6IvdZKNw1hw4ZJUu40AmtBQdzW66mysjez2otyXCkwSawg/s320/First+Field+Trip+247.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(A pathway near the river at Kakunodate.)</div>
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(The white cherry blossoms lining the river. I wish it had been sunnier.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4li3egwYVXIchC5tgV8bZHJo1yQZRkDVqLBOgPR7UtBZ1EYfZq9etB-hmizaAcvuzCr0tvG67YgNd3RRy_f2Xo13Pj76nvU1c16Yo90XFnHnXX7pJSBpgntHlgTTfuydyEUELXmza__4/s1600/First+Field+Trip+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4li3egwYVXIchC5tgV8bZHJo1yQZRkDVqLBOgPR7UtBZ1EYfZq9etB-hmizaAcvuzCr0tvG67YgNd3RRy_f2Xo13Pj76nvU1c16Yo90XFnHnXX7pJSBpgntHlgTTfuydyEUELXmza__4/s320/First+Field+Trip+020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFB2tXNI93AElXIduwa3fRd-Tqhp_SNtzjQodESFE-8iz1o8qRLNqVMP-kwVpxGqt3QvqeQAE_AaacaWJ2Jw4ACy5A64UrlJ9aXmTAWtksWWNj-sHZ1t_9FPOOO09VnM5KnpVCTZgessA/s1600/First+Field+Trip+021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFB2tXNI93AElXIduwa3fRd-Tqhp_SNtzjQodESFE-8iz1o8qRLNqVMP-kwVpxGqt3QvqeQAE_AaacaWJ2Jw4ACy5A64UrlJ9aXmTAWtksWWNj-sHZ1t_9FPOOO09VnM5KnpVCTZgessA/s320/First+Field+Trip+021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjP5FljiUCjbJs-s7oRbCj_G5rdbzCQCNnK0c2KGF5y6TjjdAfDCgVKeZ3hFuwi7WGeIYlSWp_mETuBSamEHN0P3JzYWZpenxgtwh_UjGd9dWdDX9my0m9r2M4cdtlWASLTfB-YeRno8/s1600/First+Field+Trip+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVjP5FljiUCjbJs-s7oRbCj_G5rdbzCQCNnK0c2KGF5y6TjjdAfDCgVKeZ3hFuwi7WGeIYlSWp_mETuBSamEHN0P3JzYWZpenxgtwh_UjGd9dWdDX9my0m9r2M4cdtlWASLTfB-YeRno8/s320/First+Field+Trip+027.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(A set of three pictures from a particularly scenic rest area on a bus trip. <i>Sakura </i>under a blue sky are so beautiful!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZKdA89IxFtzZw-T7KaDA52-3_b6sWtwz409c2Jb1NZipB6mULgzQOAy_99SfRc82jZBz7At4uxGOY_-DRw0TIK0sU-XvxBEYlqhWudUctfQG8ODTS8d2nU54OJQz9rzZSD-s5u-PKdY/s1600/Japan+074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZKdA89IxFtzZw-T7KaDA52-3_b6sWtwz409c2Jb1NZipB6mULgzQOAy_99SfRc82jZBz7At4uxGOY_-DRw0TIK0sU-XvxBEYlqhWudUctfQG8ODTS8d2nU54OJQz9rzZSD-s5u-PKdY/s320/Japan+074.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(<i>Sakura</i> petals on the ground.)</div>
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The background of my blog is another picture I took, up close. Can you spot the spider I also managed to photograph?</div>
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*Many people distinguish between Shinto and Buddhism as
Japan’s major religions; however they have become so intricately linked over
the centuries that they are almost a single, uniquely Japanese religion.<o:p></o:p></div>Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-58284593009538193342012-06-04T20:41:00.002-07:002012-06-12T21:14:50.427-07:00Nihon Buyo<br />
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My love for Japan is based mainly in the traditional aspects
of its culture, which survive alongside the hyper-modern, technology dictated
lifestyle of the average person. Japanese people, especially the young, have a
fading interest in such traditions, and many fascinating older aspects of the culture are only kept alive
through tourism and the sometimes fanatic interests of foreigners. At my
school, the Japanese culture department was taught by one charmingly neurotic
British guy. Even I had to do a bit of teaching myself, when many of Japanese
friends didn’t know how to don a <i>yukata </i>(summer
<i>kimono</i>). Luckily, a few Japanese
people still continue the old fashions, such as the instructor for the <i>nihon buyo </i>club. In fact, <i>nihon buyo</i> is one tradition that is experiencing a resurgence in the Japanese population, with people taking classes for entertainment as well as health reasons.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Nihon buyo</i>, which
translates as Japanese traditional dance, is a gorgeous art form, the many
faces of which have captivated my curiosity since I was young. Dating back to
the Heian period (794-1192), it has changed over time and influenced or drawn
influence from several other forms of dance. Many types of dance were originally
designed for daily use, particularly Shinto rituals. Although many of the traditional
dances people watch today are performed as both stage art and ritual, such as
dances by shrine maidens, or only stage art, such as <i>noh</i>, <i>nihon buyo</i> is one of
the only forms designed for the stage from the beginning. It draws elements
from various other forms of dance, such as <i>bugaku</i>
(a form of dance performed for the Imperial court), <i>nohgaku</i> (from noh theater), as well as a variety of folk dances
that vary based on locality. Elements of <i>nihon
buyo</i> are incorporated into <i>kabuki buyo</i>
(dances for <i>kabuki </i>plays) as well as
other, traditionally inspired free form dancing. <br />
(Source: <a href="http://www.nihonbuyou.or.jp/english/about/index.html">http://www.nihonbuyou.or.jp/english/about/index.html</a>)<o:p></o:p></div>
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This kind of dancing is designed to be performed in small
spaces, and thus includes small, precise, and measured movements. The use of
props, such as fans or poles, is common to help accent and dramatize the moves—the
long sleeves and bright coloring of the <i>kimono</i>
or <i>yukata</i> also help. The dances are
choreographed so that each step flows easily in the next one. Whatever position
one’s foot is in, the next position can be easily reached, and the arm
movements will echo the movement of the feet. There are often subtle moves that
are made in preparation for future steps, such as discreetly placing one’s foot
behind the other in anticipation of a fluid turn. There are also independent
movements of the hands and neck, and ideally the dance should be performed with
a look of placid thoughtfulness on the face. Overall, this form of dance is
very refined and delicate, and for some people it may be boring. However, for
those with a longer, more observational attention span, it is a beautiful form
of art, full of expression in every movement of the body. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Being a fan of most traditional Japanese culture,
particularly dancing, this is the first club at Akita International University
that I joined. Any other club came second to it, and luckily a lot of my
friends joined as well. Including my roommate, I also had friends in the club
from Taiwan, Malaysia, Hungary, and the Netherlands, which made getting over any
embarrassment easier. The <i>senpai* </i>(senior
members) of the club were all very nice and helpful, and the <i>sensei </i>(teachers), while sometimes relentless
in their practices, were easily approachable when you needed a particular step
explained. I only wish we could have met more frequently, as we only met once a
week. Although I was only able to perform once, the experience was one of my
favorites in Japan.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1MhGuKYNIJGoHY9uEXwG2Z1vJhxVfjyrkkWK8XoZtZXhs9o_7KMeQKisTatcvH94DN6Mg4KgE_XpZUmNPGAUq_B2KqA8xQpJCm2zEY5tSyddYjZ7TOaYk8ZFzz0_5KxNq2PuW1NF6imE/s1600/AIU+Festival+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1MhGuKYNIJGoHY9uEXwG2Z1vJhxVfjyrkkWK8XoZtZXhs9o_7KMeQKisTatcvH94DN6Mg4KgE_XpZUmNPGAUq_B2KqA8xQpJCm2zEY5tSyddYjZ7TOaYk8ZFzz0_5KxNq2PuW1NF6imE/s320/AIU+Festival+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The club was split into several groups; one was for the new
students, two other groups containing <i>senpai</i>
performed more advanced dances, and then our single male member, who was new as
well, performed his own dance. The above picture is of my group, ready for our performance, around the one guy. The new students worked on a dance accompanied
by a folk song that every Japanese person grows up knowing: <i>Sakura Sakura</i>. It is a song that
beginners on instruments play and that little kids learn to sing for concerts. Musicians
often rework the melody to try to modernize the song, keeping its place firmly
rooted in the culture. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Here is a recording of the song.</div>
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<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/XPGNqwT2N_Y/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XPGNqwT2N_Y&fs=1&source=uds" />
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<embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XPGNqwT2N_Y&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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Here
is a translation of the lyrics:<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Cherry
blossoms, cherry blossoms,<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Across the
spring sky, as far as you can see.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Is it a
mist, or is it cloud? Fragrant in the air.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>Come now,
come, let’s look, at last. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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As you can see, it is a short song, like many folk songs, with a simple melody
and simple, poetic words. I wish our recording had been as lovely as this one,
but for some reason our <i>sensei</i>
insisted on using an outdated, poor quality tape recording. I even own such a
tape myself now, courtesy of my <i>sensei</i>
as a gift at the end of my trip. What am I going to play it in, since I don’t
own a tape player? No idea, but it’s a nice keepsake regardless. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As beautiful and graceful as <i>nihon buyo</i> is, learning it is not so delicate. The moves were
difficult and sometimes felt quite awkward to my foreigner’s feet. We had to
bend our knees slightly in the traditional feminine style, which made my calves
and knees hurt in the beginning weeks. This was always difficult for me, and my
<i>sensei</i> was always reminding me to
bend lower. (I think it’s because I was taller than the other girls.) Our first
lesson didn’t involve explanations of each individual movement, but rather was
a sink-or-swim plunge that involved watching the <i>senpai</i> perform it once, and then giving it a go ourselves until we
figured it out. The fans require a special technique to open them, which made
them unreliable at times, especially since our practice fans were worn out and
tended to stick every once in a while. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Eventually, after extra practicing on my own with fellow
members, we finally got the dance down and were ready to perform it at a
student festival near the end of the semester. I invited my host family (who I
will tell you about in a later post), and they said they were really impressed,
describing our performance with complicated words that were definitely out of
my vocabulary! I was sad to be done with the club, but I have many pieces of memorabilia
that keep the experience fresh. I have pictures and recordings of our
performance, as well as a tape recording, my<i>
tabi</i> (Japanese socks), and a pretty dancing fan that I bought for myself in
the Asakusa neighborhood of Tokyo. I can even remember the dance moves, a year
later. Although I am far from achieving the grace of the dancers I admire so
much, it is comforting to know that despite being a foreigner, I can still
perform dances with origins dating back a thousand years, and not look like a
complete idiot. If you ever travel to Japan, I highly suggest going to a
performance or, if you can, maybe try a lesson or two. In the meantime, here are some videos of my club's performances! I apologize for the horrible video quality; it was filmed on my dinky camera by my boyfriend in a crowded room.<br />
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(I am in the front on the right.)</div>
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(My friend from the Netherlands doing his awesome one-man dance. The difference in style is pretty cool.)</div>
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(A few <i>senpai</i> performing a really lovely dance with streamer fans.)</div>
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(Here are some videos of girls performing <i>nihon buyo</i> at a festival I saw. They're much better than me, and the youngest ones are so cute!)</div>
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*Many people who might be familiar with common Japanese words may have a problem with me writing "senpai" instead of "sempai." I also write "tenpura" instead of "tempura," and "kanpai" instead of "kampai." Why do I do this? Because it's the correct phonetic translation. The 'sen' in 'sensei' is the same character/pronunciation as the 'sen' in 'senpai.' There is no single 'm' sound in Japanese, but there is a 'n' sound, written like: ん. It just sounds like an 'm' when next to a 'p' sound, but that doesn't reflect the transliteration properly. So, this is how it will be written in my blog, no matter what. </div>
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Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-18639285933100280412012-05-28T16:01:00.000-07:002012-07-12T18:11:55.356-07:00Toilets and Munchies<br />
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In the United States there are a lot of little annoyances
that we ignore; those insignificant problems that bug you in the moment, but
later become an afterthought. There’s an attitude of “deal with it,” which
is fine, because, really, no one should waste her time being upset about such
trifling incidents. On the other hand, in Japan people go to the next
level to erase any discomfort or inconvenience you might be feeling. Examples
of extraordinary care and concern can be found in nearly every aspect of
Japanese daily life, and just like the annoyances are forgotten in the U.S.,
sometimes I wonder if the conveniences are forgotten in Japan. Their usefulness
and rarity were certainly not wasted on me, and there were some amenities that
stood out in particular.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Let’s start with toilets. The Western-style toilets in Japan
are awesome. The high tech ones come with a button pad mounted on the wall,
allowing you an array of options to make your business as enjoyable as
possible. There is a water spout option with adjustable angles, which helps
wash away the mess from your private bits. It can follow up with a good warm air-drying, leaving you feeling cleaner than any meager piece of paper could accomplish. Some
toilets include a button that plays the sound of running water to camouflage any…uh,
unfortunate sounds that might happen. There was even a massage button, but when
I pushed it nothing happened, so I’m not sure what is supposed to occur. (Does
the toilet seat start pulsating or send rotating spheres along your buttocks
like those massaging chairs? Or maybe it’s just an undulating, high pressure
spout? I have no idea.) The most appreciated feature, however, was the heated
toilet seat. During the winter months and still cold early spring, a freezing
cold toilet seat is enough to deter you from the bathroom for even the most urgent
call. So the addition of a heated seat is happily welcome. For
Japanese people the warmth of their toilets seems to be an important thing,
because even non-electric ones are covered in some sort of fabric to keep your
bottom warm. The electric ones include a programmable timer, so that it doesn’t
waste electricity (or money) during times of infrequent use, such as when the
user is asleep. My boyfriend was so fond of these toilets that he often scorned
our low-tech dorm bathrooms and insisted on traveling across campus to the
library to use their fancy ones. They’re that awesome.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just as Japan cares about what should be kept warm, they
also care about what should be kept cool. One of my favorite places in the mall
near campus was a specialty cake shop called Fujiya, whose mascot is a
supposedly cute girl licking her lips in anticipation.<br />
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(To me she’s a little <i>kimokawaii</i>, or cute but creepy.)<br />
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Fujiya
sells Western-style cakes, with their most popular being strawberry shortcake.
Although a bit pricey, I would often pick up a slice of some sweet treat or
another, for around 400 yen, as an afternoon pick-me-up, or a surprise gift for
my roommate. The slices would come in their own little boxes with a handle for
easy carrying and a tiny spoon for eating, but the most impressive part was
the small icepack slipped inside. I have never bought a cake in the United
States that came with such a courtesy. Even specially made cakes for birthdays
are simply put in a cardboard box, so that the icing is less than perfect when
it gets home. Of course, higher priced bakeries probably do provide some sort
of cooling method, but Fujiya is not overly expensive. Even if you only spend a
few dollars there, they still strive to make sure your cake looks as good when
you open it as it did when you bought it. The icepacks don't look cheap,
either. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The Japanese also care about variety. In the U.S., vending
machines never have any pull over me, because their options are simply too limited.
What kind of syrupy soda do I want, even though they’re all variations on each
other? Which sugary or salty, vastly unhealthy snack food should I choose, even
though they all taste like sweet or salty cardboard? Compared to the
U.S., Japan’s vending machines are godly. Their drink vending machines include
the usual array of dark and light sodas, as well as some sodas unique to
Japan, such as Calpis or Qoo. On top of that they have various juices, a selection of teas including
oolong, black, green, milk tea, and fruit teas. They have different flavors of
coffee drinks and chocolate drinks. They even have a kind of drink that
includes fruit soda filled with fruit jelly squares. Japanese drink vending
machines offer both cold and <i>hot</i>
drinks, and while some of them are the standard bottle or canned kinds, they
also have some that dispense your drink right into a paper cup! My favorite
drinks included the addictive Ty-Hi Milk Tea (hot or cold), creamy matcha tea,
and frothy hot chocolate (which was often sold out because it was so tasty).<br />
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The paper cup vending machines often had options that allowed you change the
ratios of espresso, water, sugar, milk, or froth. The warm drinks are sold in extra
thick steel cans to provide insulation.<o:p></o:p></div>
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For food, Japanese vending machines went beyond simple candy
bars and chip bags. They had assorted pastries with different fruit flavors
(melon bread being one of the best), a large selection of instant ramen for
your middle of the night cravings, chocolate biscuit treats, Kit-Kats in
flavors you’d never find stateside, and pretzel sticks that were the savory equivalent
of Pocky. Japan even had vending machines that sold hot food, with everything
from hot dogs to fried chicken to grilled rice balls (called <i>onigiri)</i>. The one below also has french fries and <i>takoyaki</i>, or pieces of octopus inside balls of batter and covered in a savory-sweet sauce.<br />
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The vending machines even say
hello (or good morning/evening depending on the time), and thank you for your
business in a cheery female voice. At my
school, during mid-terms and finals they said “<i>Otsukaresama desu!” </i>or “Good work!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Japan’s courtesy could be found in the most unexpected places.
Sidewalks are covered in rows of bumps to help blind people move about easier. Shopping
carts in grocery stores and suitcases have wheels that swivel in every
direction, so it’s never a struggle to move them in any way you like, even in
tight circles. Much better than lifting those ungreased, broken-wheeled carts
at Safeway whenever you need to move to make room. Ice-cream stores provide
guests waiting in line with paper flavor menus, so you can choose faster.
Iced-tea orders come with individual packets of liquid sweetener for easy
dissolving. Malls have attendants at entrances to help you locate what you
need, instead of just providing a map that might be hard to read.<o:p></o:p></div>
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These every-day amenities stem from the fact that the
Japanese are a very polite people. In everything they do, they are concerned
with being unoffensive and avoiding any discomfort for their guests. They are very
hospitable by nature. This attention translates into the entire service
industry, even when there are no actual people there to serve you. It is as if
the entire country is trying to say, <i>“irasshaimase!”</i>
or “welcome,” even if you are just walking down a sidewalk or buying some
munchies to get through tests. Personally,
I wish my toilet seat would be a bit more courteous and learn to warm up next
winter. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div>Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-59638287356358666142012-05-22T02:02:00.001-07:002012-05-22T02:11:40.922-07:00The Community of AIU<br />
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While describing my experiences in
Japan, I can assure you I have no intent of boring you with a
description of every single day and every single thing I did while
abroad. Although every day was amazing to me, not every day contained
something really worth writing about. This Japan series will be long,
filled with a wide array of events, but I will only describe to you
the most important moments, the ones that really burrowed into my
heart and made a home there. Some will be very specific, others will
be more general to encompass the feelings that involve so many
moments, it would be impossible to describe each one. This one is of
the latter variety. I want to tell you, as best as I can, about life
at Akita International University (AIU).
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AIU is the kind of college that every
college wishes it was. Situated near the Akita airport, it is
surrounded by nature on all sides, with mysterious forest to the west
and picturesque rice fields to the east. It's far enough away from
the city to be beautifully quiet, and yet close to major roads and
with its own bus route, ensuring you're never more than a 20 minute
bus ride from the city. The campus is gorgeous, with cherry trees
lining the pathways, lawns covered in soft grass, and a gorgeous
garden park behind. Across the street is a huge sports complex where
students can play baseball or tennis to work out their study-induced
blues. The architecture is environmentally conscious and
stylistically innovative. The interior of the library, with its
sun-like rafting and wall of windows is so remarkable, it stuns you
into silence, eliminating all need for shushing librarians.
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The campus is small, only about the
size of a large city block, so that getting to class feels like
simply rolling out of bed into your desk. In the cold winter months
of Northern Japan, AIU keeps you warm by making all the buildings
connected to each other by corridors.</div>
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But AIU isn't just amazing for its
location. It is the spirit of AIU that most colleges aspire to, but
only rarely achieve. AIU's most interesting aspect is the fact that
it is an international campus. Every year, a large percentage of
their student body is comprised of exchange students from around the
world. When I went there were students from all over the United
States as well as Canada, Hungary, England, Germany, the Netherlands,
Norway, France, China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Malaysia, Australia,
Mexico, Brazil, and the Philippines. (And that year was a smaller
representation than usual; their exchange student numbers had been
halved by negative reactions to the earthquake in March.) Just as
they welcome many students from abroad, they also send their own
students off into the world. The school teaches their students
English as a common language until they are proficient enough to
travel, at which point they must study abroad in order to graduate.
They even encourage their students to pick up a third language,
believing that language the best gateway to the soul of a country.
The result is a hybrid campus culture where every student can learn
about different ways of life from every corner of the globe, and
provide a bit of his own perspective. Understanding the value of
immersing in a foreign culture, the Japanese students there are all
to eager to help any exchange student experience as much of Akita and
Japan as possible. For a Japanese major like myself, it was a perfect
opportunity to practice their language, as well as teach some of my
own (and occasionally rely on it if I didn't know how to say
something in Japanese). I learned about food and traditions in places
I had only briefly heard of, and I now have friends around the world,
who are ready and willing to house me should I ever manage to visit
their countries.
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This is the goal of the school; to help
every student learn about the world and experience it. They believe
in the same things I believe in. In order to really do well in
today's global economy, to really understand oneself and one's
country, you must experience as much of the rest of the world as
possible. This is the future of the human race, and the first ones to
embrace it will become the leaders of the world. So the school tries
to make that as easy as possible. They provide clubs about everything
from calligraphy to world issues. They host events that showcase
music or food from different countries. They provide their exchange
students with specially tailored field trips that show them the best
and most notable of Akita culture. They set students up with host
families, part-time jobs, school visits. After the earthquake, they
helped exchange students join volunteer programs, where the students
could help clean up homes and comfort families. The whole school is
dedicated to their mission of globalized education, and you can feel
that energy and devotion reverberating in the halls. It is a
beautiful, heart-warming feeling.
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The effectiveness of the school's
efforts is partially dependent on the smallness of the school itself.
The total number of students, exchange students included, totals
somewhere around seven hundred. Living in such a small community made
me realize that maybe attending a school with 30,000 people was a
mistake. It was impossible to go through your day without running
into someone you knew. At lunch and dinner in the dining halls, you
always had friends to sit with. Even in the depths of midterms and
finals, you never felt isolated, even if you couldn't actually “get
together” with anyone. The Japanese students were friendly and
welcoming to any foreigner, and the exchange students loved to spend
time together and relish in their shared experience as said
foreigners. Even the teachers engaged with their students on a
personal level, often inviting them out in groups to lunch or dinner,
and accompanying them on field trips. I felt so involved in the
community, so included, that it felt like saying good-bye to family
when we all went our separate ways at the end of the semester. I made
life-long friendships there in a mere 4 months that will probably
last longer than most of the tenuous, sometimes superficial
friendships I've made in Boulder after 4 years.
</div>
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AIU is a school that leaves a mark on
your heart with every detail. I miss its hallways, the vending
machines, the tiny TV in the student lounge. I long for the near-holy
peace of the library, the bustle and terrible food in the cafeteria,
and the pathways through the gorgeous garden where every plant has a
tag telling me its species. But mostly, I miss the people. I miss my
roommate, Mai-chan, who loved pajamas and supported me during the
occasional bout of homesickness. I miss Phil, an always energetic DJ
grad student who helped out every single exchange student and landed
me an English-teaching part-time job. I miss my teachers, especially
Ashmore-sensei, the witty, English geek who taught me to indulge in
all passions no matter how dorky, and Andy, my chemistry teacher who
took us to a firework factory and let us make ice cream with liquid
nitrogen. I even miss the cleaning staff, who bowed and smiled and
said “Ohayou gozaimasu!” (good morning!) every time I passed
them. I envy every new student from my school who goes there, and yet
I wish I could give this experience to every one in the world. The
love of this place developed over many days, through the small
details of the ordinary, and through the huge moments that made my
eyes sparkle with wonder. Even though I could only be there for a
short four months, I will always consider it my home across the sea. </div>
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(The cafeteria where the whole freshman class and the exchange students would eat meals. Large windows allowed for delightful daydreaming on the rare chance you ate alone.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBTxi_q18U_TIdXVrNiSYopsiGoGzLz4otMmV_rIepULVXZMKCQXgeflCQfCcXy8lT0bGeQQ3mLujgye0dZ7d9CPoaD-rL_g3Q7rRlv_W-kRNn1_QqllqLR19jHmt_DtuQrwXMDvgMoZ8/s1600/campus+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBTxi_q18U_TIdXVrNiSYopsiGoGzLz4otMmV_rIepULVXZMKCQXgeflCQfCcXy8lT0bGeQQ3mLujgye0dZ7d9CPoaD-rL_g3Q7rRlv_W-kRNn1_QqllqLR19jHmt_DtuQrwXMDvgMoZ8/s320/campus+6.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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(One, the AIU mascot. He is an Akita, the dog breed, and his name is a play on the Japanese sound for woof "wan", as well as the word 'one,' as in we are all part of <i>one</i> world.)</div>
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(<i>Sakura</i>, or cherry trees, lining one of the walkways on campus.)</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyVZuG_8L9tsKh5beT8U3E0Zrrs_ZHUo9n-ZBV1bjL6uFnZnwQ254zlb8e5OsWteZCET2wbLHLUcDGCQKmRvw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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(A video of the hip-hop dance club's recruiting skit. This was at an information session that told new students about the cool clubs they could join. I personally dallied in the calligraphy club, the tea ceremony club, and mainly the Japanese traditional dance club.)</div>
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<br /></div>Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-47258013278627577072012-05-21T02:52:00.003-07:002012-05-21T03:13:42.140-07:00The Highs and Lows of Being Somewhere Foreign<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Although I have been traveling to far
away places since I was 6 years old, for the most part I hadn't
experienced anything extremely foreign. Most of my travel experience
has been to either Alberta or California, with the occasional trip so
somewhere new, like Hawaii, Arizona, British Columbia, and Mexico.
Canada, while retaining an entirely different essence than the US,
has never pushed my comfort zone so far as to feel “foreign.” My
trips to Hawaii and Mexico were so tourist oriented, that the walls
of my resort hotel or cruise ship kept me from really experiencing
the uniqueness of those places. So when I went to Japan, the
sensation of being in a truly foreign land, built up by a lifetime of
dreaming, obsession, and hype, was intense.
</div>
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<br />
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The understanding that I was even
<i>going</i> to Japan didn't really
dawned on me until I was on the train traveling from Narita Airport
to Tokyo Station. Looking out the window as we moved through the
relatively uncrowded outskirts of Tokyo it finally hit me that I
wasn't just going to Japan, I was <i>there</i>.
And it was <i>so different</i>.
The trees, roads and houses were crowded together with only loose
whispers of order, making the careful city planning of Colorado
cities seem obsessive-complusive. The roofs of the houses spread out
passed the walls into the pointed corners so characteristic of East
Asian architecture—giving even the cheapest, smallest house a
traditional flair reminiscent of shrines and pagodas and samurai
castles. The signs and billboards we passed were written in a
language that, despite my years of learning it, I could not decipher
in the brief moments they flew by. It was exactly as I had expected
it to look, and yet everything was a surprise. I was bouncing in my
seat, nose pressed against the glass like a child. Turning to my
boyfriend, Justin, who was also studying abroad, I said, “I can't
believe we're <i>here</i>.”</div>
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This
excitement was enough, for a while, to counteract the fact that I had
just flown across the Pacific Ocean on a cramped airplane and had
managed very little sleep. It wasn't until we actually got to Tokyo
Station—the biggest and most crowded train station in the
world—that the other, scarier side of being in such a foreign place
began to take its toll. My language courses had not prepped me for
the plunge of being surrounded by people who only spoke Japanese. As
my weariness sunk in, I suddenly could not remember anything I'd
learned, and anybody who talked to me sounded like an alien under
water. Not to mention that speaking Japanese to a native still made
my palms sweat and my heart beat like a percussionist on crack.
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Navigating
Tokyo Station, even with the supposed “help” of my boyfriend's
brother who lived in Tokyo, was a nightmare. For a small town girl
who is used to cities of 3000 and can barely handle her university of
30,000, it was terrifying. People in Tokyo Station don't watch where
they're going. They are focused on getting to their destination as
fast as possible and they don't notice anything else—even two dumb
foreigners with two huge suitcases each, standing in everyone's way
looking completely lost. Some guy even intentionally tripped my
luggage. Justin's brother adopted this hurried mindset, too, and
completely forgot (or didn't care to find out) that I had no idea how
to buy train tickets, or get through the check points, or where to
go. When I tried to explain, I was rushed past the check point
anyway, quickly told “It's okay. It's okay.” Luckily no one
checked our tickets on the train we took to get to dinner, because I
definitely did not buy one.
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This
was not going as I had hoped. Justin and I had traveled to Japan
shortly after the big earthquake in March 2011. After a month of not
knowing whether we could go at all, we finally got the green light a
mere week before we were supposed to leave. Having to rush all our
preparations in one week, we had no time to really understand what
would happen once we got to Japan. All I knew was that we were going
to eat with Justin's brother in Tokyo before getting on to a bus to
take us north to Akita province. As such, when we got there we were
completely clueless.
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After
my illegal train trip we found ourselves in Akihabara, where we were
supposed to eat. In case you don't know, Akihabara is a neighborhood
of Tokyo that specializes in the crazier side of Japan. It's full of
shops that sell everything you could possibly obsess over—anime,
electronics, video games and arcades, maid cafes, porn, candy, toys,
karaoke, alcohol. All of this is advertised with signs of bright,
glaring neon that hover over the densely crowded streets filled with
every kind of person you can imagine. It's a place I've long wanted
to visit, but after the confusion of Tokyo Station, its intensity was
overwhelming. There was too much too look at, it was too bright, too
crowded, I was tired and my feet hurt. Our luggage was heavy and
cumbersome, and dragging it through such a crowded neighborhood was
like trying to maneuver a semi through rush hour L.A. traffic.
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When
we finally reached our restaurant—which was <i>supposed</i>
to be sukiyaki (my favorite Japanese dish)--Justin and I were cranky
and exhausted, and more than a little hungry. The meal was certainly
not sukiyaki, and was instead some overpriced assortment of tough
cuts of beef, cooked over a table grill. The portions were
inadequate, and yet they were so expensive I couldn't bear to order
more.
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Justin's
brother and his wife were anxious to make the most of our brief time
in Tokyo before we left for school, so we made a pathetic effort to
go a <i>neko cafe</i>, or a
cafe where you enjoy food with cats around. It sounded cute, but when
we got there it was closed. Despite offers to try something else,
Justin and I just wanted to go wait for our bus and <i>sit
down</i>. So we did. With our butts
cooling on a cement ridge around the sidewalk, we waited until our
bus came and left without much ceremony. We would, after all, see
them at the end of our trip.</div>
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The
night bus was nice and quiet and dark, and I slept with my head in
Justin's lap, despite my misgivings about public affection in Japan.
(Cuddling and kissing in public in Japan is not as accepted as it is
in the United States). I was tired, and at the moment I couldn't care
less about what people thought of me using my boyfriend as a pillow.
</div>
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</div>
When
we arrived in Akita and at our school, Akita International University
(AIU), some of the exhilaration began to return. The campus was
beautiful, and the welcome committee was full of friendly, warm,
energetic people. Exchange students from all around the world were
chatting in groups, already making friends. We were shown our rooms,
where the novelty of being in the dorms again brought back memories
of my freshman year of college, when I first felt the delight of
striking out on my own. I set up my futon rental in my bunk bed,
crawled into it. Although I was not used to sleeping on a thin
mattress on top of a wooden bed frame, I fell asleep instantly, ready
and excited to take on the next day which would, hopefully, be much
better than my first day in Japan.Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6902843187768753379.post-79805552930177558772012-05-19T19:34:00.000-07:002012-05-19T19:34:23.722-07:00Introductions and new passions.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Hajimemashite.</i>
(Let me introduce myself.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Guraui Kyandesu desu.</i>
(My name is Candace Graue.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Douzo yoroshiku.</i>
(Nice to meet you.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
During my beginning Japanese class, back in my freshman year
of college, we practiced self-introductions, or<i> jikoshoukai</i>, relentlessly. Every person was introduced to every
other person a dozen times, followed by careful practicing of the Japanese bow:
not too high, not too low, and with hands on the thighs for women. I had no
idea that this beginner’s language course, taken on a whim, with all its
introductions was introducing me to an entirely unpredicted, and therefore
terrifying, direction in life. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although I love “living in the moment” and going on
spontaneous adventures, when it comes to the important, big parts of my life—career,
marriage, children, lifestyle—I like to plan down to the smallest detail. I did
not go into college with no idea what I wanted as a career, as many of my fellow
students often do. Since my freshman year of high school I knew I wanted to be
an English teacher. The more I learned about education and the issues surrounding
it, the more I believed that this was my calling, my place to make a change in
this world—even if it were only through students
I taught. I believed that through education, particularly English, a child’s
mind could be opened to endless interests, causes, cultures, and viewpoints. They
just needed the right guidance. With that passion burning in my heart, I
entered college knowing my path, how to get there, and what to do in the
meantime. On top of that, I knew how many kids I wanted, what their names would
be, where I’d live, and what kind of house I wanted. I even knew what kinds of
pets I would adopt and what I would name them. I would teach, I would live, and
I would write—another passion of mine that began as early as elementary school.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But my interest in Japan and its culture and language did
not diminish, and I continued to take the language courses and even studied
abroad in Japan, despite the fact that these classes had no value towards my
English and Education degree. Then, when I started to apply to the School of
Education at my university, I came to realize that despite all my fervor for
education, getting the required degree meant a lot more money and time in
college than I felt was right. It meant taking on a huge amount of debt,
spending an extra year and a half in school, only to go into a career that at
this time is not hiring—in fact, it’s mainly cutting jobs. It was then, with a
heavy heart, that I changed my Education double major to a Japanese one,
feeling like I was cutting out a part of my soul for the sake of my future
financial well-being. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s not to say I am unhappy with a Japanese major. But
after spending 6 years knowing I was going to be a teacher, suddenly not having
that goal anymore left me hollow. What, I asked, would my passion be now? What
would I do with a Japanese degree? Teach English in Japan? Translate? I needed
that fiery motivation that kept me going through all the annoying little stuff,
knowing that every small step was part of a bigger, happier picture. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Luckily, my trip to Japan for a semester and a year of
pondering my future, has revealed to me a potential, new calling, one that
draws on everything I believed in as a someday teacher. I still believe that
people need to open their minds, to embrace curiosity, and to explore. And after
traveling to Japan and a couple other countries, I think that exploration of
other cultures and places of the world is particularly important. Only by exploring
different ways of life can you ever truly understand yourself and the country
you live in. You can never have perspective without experiencing the other
side, first. Surely, this is the most important lesson I have taken from
learning about and experiencing Japanese culture. Lately, I have started to
think that I can still share this ideal with the world in ways other than
teaching. And to be honest, I miss being tin Japan, or anywhere foreign, so
deeply that is almost physically hurts in the center of my body. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So in order to explore this revised passion, I want to write
about culture. Not just Japanese, but culture around the world, and even here
at home. This blog will help me begin that path, and maybe find that plan I so
desperately need to feel secure. Maybe I will inspire other people to go beyond
their comfort zone and embrace different ways of life. This is not a travel
blog, though there will be posts about travel. It is not a food blog, although
I love tasting food from different countries. It is just going to be a blog
about curiosity for the world—and everything that goes with it. I hope to visit
many other countries as soon as I can and continue to share my experience
through my writing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Something else Japanese has taught me is that literal
translations often don’t effectively communicate the same meanings. The literal
translation of my opening <i>jikoshoukai</i>
is something like “I am beginning. I am Candace
Graue. Please treat me well.” As an introduction, this translation into English
isn’t much help. But for this, I believe the literal meaning works just as
well. To both my future readers, and my future itself: I am beginning, please
treat me well. <o:p></o:p></div>Candacehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14895817735318693143noreply@blogger.com0