Last Notes From A High-Rise Building....

I just went through the shittiest part of my whole time in Japan- saying goodbye. Students, teachers, and friends were at the Niijima airport to wish me well and I did them all the favor of letting them see me with a big red nose and mascara running down my face (What? They don't sell waterproof mascara in Niijima.)
I spent the last couple of weeks saying goodbye to my idyllic life in Japan. You'd cry too if you had to say goodbye to all this:

One year...

In two weeks, I'll be home.
Jesus, one year. Just like that.
And damn, I did a lot. Physically, mentally, emotionally.
Missed a lot too. There's still so much to see.
Still, I'm surprised to find that I'm ready to be home...

Sleeping With A Dead Guy's Ashes -Marugame to Naoshima

Naoshima...


After bathing where royalty bathed, I left Dogo Onsen and headed east. Shikoku is famous for its 88 Sacred Temples and its henro or pilgrims. I stopped by Temple 51 and checked out the Indiana Jones style tunnel with its creepy little statues,































the giant sandals,























and stopped and chatted with a few local gods and goddesses.




















I hopped a train and continued on east. I was supposed to meet up with my friend Tani-san that evening, but I wanted to stop at Kompira-san first. I was reading Sakae Tsuboi's "Twenty-Four Eyes" (a pacifist novel about a teacher and her twelve students in war-time Japan), which is set near Shikoku. They go to this big ass shrine that has 1368 steps and I thought, "If twelve fictional students can climb up this thing, then so can I!" Just as I took my first step, a rainstorm started in earnest. I could see tourists hurrying down the steps, looking at me like the jackass gaijin I was.








Actually, it was pretty exhilarating. I was bounding my way to the top. I didn't really have a chance to take in the natural and historical beauty, but the air was warm, the rain felt good on my skin, and there was that wonderful smell of a forest in the rain, with a couple wafts of lilies thrown in. And as I climbed each step, I felt more and more confident until finally, I reached the top! Or what I thought was the top. Then I remembered that there was another 400 steps and an inner shrine. I had to go for it. It ended up being a bitch! And if it had been a beautiful day, I don't think I would've bothered. But I did it! I made it to the top! And all that was there to greet me was a little worn shrine, and strange carving of two demon-looking things on a cliff and a grumpy priest, trying to close up shop and pissy cuz I was dripping on his sitting spot.
This was the view from the top:











I know what you're thinking: Where a picture of this famous shrine. Well, it was pouring and it was such a pain in the ass trying not to get my camera wet that I just took a little mental picture for myself. Now, you'll either have to go see the shrine for yourself or carve the image out of my brain.
But I felt so damn good. I flashed him a smile and made him bust out the guestbook so I could write "I DID IT"in big letters. And then I hurried my ass back down.

And the reward for this feat? (besides a big ass sense of accomplishment) My cute pregnant friend Tani-san and her sweet little mom were waiting at the station in Marugame to take me to dinner. You know that kind of hungry you get when you've been hiking and running around all day? It was just like that and my great hunger was sated by this A-mazing chicken dinner at this awesome restaurant. Maybe it was rotisseried or something, but that chicken was so damn good and that beer felt so refreshing. I'm gonna have to climb more Kompira-sans.













And my friend and her mother were so kind, it was almost embarrassing! I mean, Jesus, they did my laundry! The Japanese take pride in their hospitality, even from beyond the grave. Tani-san's father had passed away a few months ago and his ashes were still at the family shrine. I was shown how they paid respect to their dead by prayer and then Tani-san turned around and pointed to a space nearby where I would be sleeping. Huh. Okay. I can live with that. But are you sure your dad's cool with it?

I guess this was no big deal, so I just got all cozy with them and enjoyed the best cherries I ever had in my life with the fellow.















The next day, Tani-san and I did some touristy shit, checking out historical remnants of Shikoku (including this cool vine bridge)


















and checking out this statue's balls.












I also sampled some of Shikoku's famous udon noodles and came across a kid who spit at me when I tried to say hello. I asked him if he wanted to come live in America with me and be my bodyguard.

The next day, I said goodbye to Tani-san and her sweet mama and hopped a ferry to Naoshima.
















Granted, it was a giant pain in the ass trying to bicycle around the island with my big-ass backpack, trying to find my campsite in the pouring rain. And yes, my bag full of omiyage (presents) broke while I was pedaling around. And yes, my camera's battery died while I was exploring the island. But these are minor setbacks. This place is beautiful and lovely. My Mongolian style tent was charming and comfortable. I wanted to stay an extra day and have the fishermen teach me how to fish. Why don't I just shut up and show you pictures:


My pao tent







and the view from my 'door'



















Naoshima town hall,





















































(Okay, I actually don't know if this square is art or something to help the fishermen or what. I saw two other squares around the island. I thought it was an installation by Walter De Maria, but I was reading my map wrong. Perfect example of being a suckered by art. But it still looks like art to me...)







































Naoshima was beautiful and most of the art is incorporated in a way that is graceful and harmonious. I love it when I come across art that strikes me immediately and I found that here, not just in the art houses and museums but in the village homes and the scenery surrounding me. It's such a fun way to view art, to discover it, as opposed to the daunting task of going through a mega-museum. And I know I left so much to discover. I loved it there. I'll be back soon.


And so my tour ended. I came up with the usual shitty travel and weather luck that follows me whenever I try to get back to my island, but I made it back, exhausted and happy to be sleeping on my own smelly futon.

"Okonomiyaki Is Facking Good!" -Hiroshima to Matsuyama

All right, since too much shit happened, it's back to highlights mode:

-Stayed at the World Friendship Center, a hostel run by American volunteers who are so nice, not only do they turn on the A/C before you get there, they place a little paper crane and chocolate on your pillow. Peaceful!














This place also served a Western breakfast. I had Cheerios for the first time in years. There were some other gaijin there too and I proceeded to embarrass myself by talking waay too much and sounding like those dorky backpackers trying to impart all their travel wisdom in the space of an hour. The adverse effects of living on a remote island.

- Later, I wandered around looking for a place to eat. I paused in front of one restaurant, trying to figure out what they were serving, when a group of Japanese boisterously invited me to join them. One of the salarymen owned a tiny bar (most bars in Japan are about the size of your childhood bedroom) and we moved the party over there. It just so happened that the bartender was playing Earth Wind and Fire and I taught all eight people there how to dance. After I finished my good deed for the evening, I stumbled back to the Friendship Center, stopping to make a pit stop behind a vending machine.

-I went to hear a hibakusha (atomic bomb survivor) speak. She told a group of twelve or so about the day of the bombing, the aftermath, and her work as a anti-nuclear bomb activist. She showed pictures of her visit to India, where they parade the nuclear bombs on the street. Later, I asked her who will continue the dialogue once the generation of hibakusha passes away. She just smiled and pointed at me and her translator.
And then I went upstairs to enter the Peace museum. I paused in front of a clock that is designed to self-destruct the closer we get to nuclear destruction. And suddenly I was overwhelmed by all that I had just taken in: the horror and sadness and discrimination of people who had lost everything, the naivete of a woman who believes all nuclear weapons will be abolished some day, the gross stupidity and lack of integrity world leaders seem to possess nowadays. I walked out the door and burst into tears. I called Stevhan and tried to tell him what was bursting out of my heart and instead I just bawled and scared away a few tourists. But I went back in, looked, listened, took it all in. And that's the best I can do right now, isn't it?

-After such a heavy morning, I went and took a nap. And being the ridiculous thing that I am, I took comfort in some shopping. And lo, I came across a Marc Jacobs store!! Oh my God! I'm so happy! I'm so ridiculous! I bought a skirt.

-I met up with the same posse from last night, after they insisted I try hiro-okonomiyaki ("It's facking good! Number One!!"). Osaka and Hiroshima have their own way of making this 'Japanese pancake'. Hiroshima cooks proudly make their version with soba noodles at the bottom and it's just a thing of joy.
























It also makes everyone instantly happy. Except for dude with the hat. I don't know what's up with him. The two ladies at the end were also kind enough to teach me how to say "I'm on the rag" in Japanese. See, happy!





















-Hiroshima at night feels very safe and romantic. Peace Park is well lit and couples wander along the paths, buskers practice underneath the bridges, and bums stretch out for a nap.




















-The next day, I went out to the island of Miyajima, famous for its giant red torii.
















Oh, did you need a closer look?


















I took a ride up the local mountain in my own private bucket








(Seriously, when I become a millionaire, I'm gonna install buckets that connect to all my favorite brunch spots)





and looked for a monkey to pick a fight with.















I checked out this lovely, old shrine












and then dropped my camera on a rock, thus fucking up the display. Damn. I'm not responsible for how the photos turned out after this.
I wandered over to the airy Pavilion of 1000 Tatami where I enjoyed walking barefoot on the smooth wood floor.













This hall was built way before TV, so they hung up these paintings to stare at.

















-Miyajima is overrun by deer who try to hustle you as soon as you get off the ferry.






















They push their babies on you and are all like, "EEHHH! EEHH!"




























- I am now the proud owner of the world's largest rice scooper. Call me if you wanna borrow it.















Hiroshima is a lovely city with a lot of civic pride. Miyajima is a charming albeit touristy town. But I was exhausted (especially after I took a wrong turn in Miyajima and ended up hiking down a fucking mountain path in flip flops), so I was happy to hop a ferry to Shikoku and reach Matsuyama, the city known for the famous Dogo Onsen.








-Public bathing facilities are very much a part of Japanese life. This onsen is famous for the celebrities and royalty that came to bathe. The empress of Japan had her very own shitter built just for her. Supposedly never used, but maybe she got up a couple of times after a rowdy night with the other royals, you know? And I thought Madonna herself came to bathe, seeing as there were so many shops named Madonna this and that. Turns out it's a character from "Botchan" by novelist Natsume Soseki, who set the story in Dogo Onsen and was a big fan of the joint.













I gave it a go and found it to be quite pleasant. I'm quite spoiled by the onsens of Kozu and Niijima (nothing beats bathing under the stars and in front of the sea) and even after a year of public bathing, I was still a little confused on bathing etiquette (I accidently sprayed an old lady with cold water. Nice move, gaijin.). I bought a scrubby brush (they say it's for your skin but I think they use it on pots and pans) and came out pink and new.


















-Matsuyama also has a lovely white castle that overlooks the city. And I took a chair lift to get there! (Seriously, as soon as I get my first million....)














-Finally, I went to the Ninomaru Shiseki Tei-en gardens, these beautiful Japanese gardens with ponds filled with golden carps, a tea ceremony room (I also scared some housewives in the middle of their tea ceremony practice. Kudos again, gaijin!), and this beautiful little contraption for irrigation: they bury an earthenware jar underneath a little pool and when the water drips in, you hear a sound almost like a string being plucked. Okay, that was a totally shitty explanation, but it was cool putting my ear to a bamboo tube and listening to the mellow little drips. I didn't take any pictures because I didn't want to bother with the camera. And because it was raining, I had it mostly all to myself. It was beautiful, serene, and for a short time in the afternoon, all mine.

Next: Sleeping with a dead guy's ashes and the place where lovely and amazing live...