My cup of tea

There's always a bit of nervousness right before we meet our host family, especially this time, because we were all going to different towns with different Rotary Clubs.

This time I got lucky. The family I'm staying at owns a hotel with hot springs in Narugo, a small moutian town in the Miyagi Prefecture. They also have a daughter who is my age. Yesterday, instead of visits to the mayor or a bank, like was on the original itinerary, I hung out with Eriko all day.

She is taking lessons on how to perform tea ceremonies, so I tagged along. I didn't realize how complicated and meticulous tea ceremonies are. An 80-year-old woman instructed her in a soft voice how to step into the room, which foot to step with first, how slide her hand on a ladle, stir the tea, and clean the stick she used to make the tea. There were two other students there who were older than Eriko. Apparently, you remain a student for about 50 years before you can become a teacher yourself, and even so, this teacher is still a student elsewhere herself.\

Despite the formality, the students laughed at their mistakes, and there was a certain ease I imagine a real tea ceremony wouldn't have. I got to participate, because the person who makes the tea serves it to each of the guests. And yes, there is a procedure to drinking the tea to, including bowing on your hands and knees, turning the bowl in your hand clockwise several times, drinking and turning it counterclockwise. The entire process is geared to show reverence for the tea, with the most style and grace possible. It was fascinating, but long. We were there for about three and a half hours, and they other women sat back on their knees the entire time. They gave me a chair, which I was thankful for, since my feet fell asleep after about five minutes.


Lesson learned: Tea isn't just tea in Japan.

Presto chango

This trip has been an exercise in flexibility. The nature of not speaking the language is that people often make plans for you without telling you. I can't tell you how many times we have just got in the car not having any idea what the day's itinerary was. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes it means we didn't bring something we needed or weren't wearing the right clothes.

In every town we arrive, and with every new Rotary club, we have to kind of guess when the meeting is that we are to give a presentation. Thus far, we have gone on past experience, only to find out it is different in our new destination.

In Miyako, we gave our presentation the last night. In Ogawara, I think we were supposed to give it the first night, but never ended up doing it.

We arrived in Furukawa today at a hotel, dressed in jeans and tennis shoes. They led us into an elaborate dining room where everyone was in suits and ties, and sat us at a head table.

We were early, so went downstairs where they had left our bags to get more business cards. In a spit second decision, we changed into nice clothes, grabbed gifts and prepared for our presentation. It was like we were Wonder Women.

Not it's off to our new host families for the next three days.

Lesson learned:At least Wonder Women spoke the land's language.

Two halfs equals a whole

On Monday we took a bullet train from Morioka to Sendai, the capital of the Miyagi Prefecture. The 112-mile trip took a mere half hour. Despite the train's 300-mile-an-hour clip, the trip is surprisingly smooth for its passengers.

In Sendai, we met up with a few Rotarians, who took us to Ogawara, southwest of the city. All five us us stayed in a luxurious guest house with Yoshio and Yuko Yaegashi, who own a construction company.



The common theme in all our stays has been the mass quantity of food that our hosts provide. One day, we went from breakfast to a cake factory — where they served us four deserts in a row — to lunch.

Tuesday we visited Montishima Bay, where we took a boat ride through hundreds of the area's islands. We arrived at a port town, where we visited a Buddhist temple that Samurai Date Masamune, who founded Sendai had build in 1609.


Our final night in Ogawara was one of the best Japanese learning sessions I've had on the trip. None of the Rotarians in this town spoke much English, yet we all managed to piece together what we had in order to communicate, including using a bit of charades. We had a barbecue in the back of our host families house, and with the help of some sake, had a great time conversing.



Lesson learned: Bad Japanese plus limited English skills equals a great classroom.

Eastern hospitality

My head is pounding from trying to absorb the language, culture and watching my surroundings change as soon as I adapt to them. It's a good feeling though, and I can't believe how much I'm learning. I'm realizing I really didn't know anything about Japanese culture before I came.

Probably the thing that has most struck me is the generosity and selflessness of the people here. You can trust everyone. Maybe it is just the setting I'm in, since Rotary has a strong philosophy of service, but everyone has bent over backwards to make us comfortable and happy. It's a little overwhelming. We actually have to be careful not to bring up something we liked, because the next day they will show up with it and give it to us. Beth's host mom had a painting of a Japanese character on her wall that meant dream. Beth complimented her on it, and later Beth found it tied in a bag tied to her suitcase.

The Group Study Exchange Coordinator, Takashi, also seems to just take care of everything before we even know what's happening.

Lesson learned: I better not compliment someone's car.

Presenting in bath robes

We weren't in Morioka again long before Takashi, the group study exchange coordinator in Japan swept us off to a resort and spa in the mountains. We were to meet up with the Japanese team who is going to the United States to compare notes on our presentations.

We immediately took to the girls, one who lived in Atlanta for eight years, (and has a bit of a southern twang to her Japanese accent), and another girl who doesn't speak as much English. We had time for a dip in the hot-springs before our presentations.


At this resort, everyone just walks around in these Japanese style bathrobes called Yukata. It was funny to give my part of the presentation wearing something like that. We had a traditional Japanese dinner, then headed to a karaoke box, to sing for the second night in a row.

Yesterday morning was my favorite part of the weekend. We had a leisurely breakfast, then all the girls sat in our room on the tatami mats, had tea and talked.


Now this we are off to Miyagi Prefecture, where we will travel around to different clubs for the next couple weeks.

Lesson learned: Japanese women, who seem so demur, can be sassy also.

Serenading our hosts

Friday night was our first try at Japanese karaoke. From the scores that show up after you sing, our team has some rehearsing to do. It is so much fun.

Our conference room where we had just had a Rotary meeting and done our presentation for the first time, had a machine and several four-inch thick books of song titles in a mix of English and Japanese characters.


Businessmen, often reserved and formal during work, use it as an opportunity to drink and relax their dignified fronts, one Rotarian explained to me.

Some crooned traditional Japanese songs into a microphone, while others gave impressive performances of oldies in English, with little of their usual signature accents seeping through the lyrics.

None reached such new heights of cacophony as our team's rendition of "No Satisfaction." Even after the last Japanese Rotarian went home, we stayed with our translator, Shunske, and a bottle of sake to have our own private karaoke party.

Lesson learned: No more satisfaction.

Nihongo

Learning Japanese has become a game to our group. There are certain words we deem as "our favorite," each time we learn new fun one to say. Right now, mine is "Di jobu desu," which means "It's okay." Erin and I try to find every opportunity to say it, and when we do, we almost sing it.

On our road trip from Miyako back to Morioka, Erin would pick a word from the dictionary, and we would all guess what it means. We were never even close.

It's frustrating sometimes though. I feel like I learn a new phrase only to have another one evaporate from my mind.

I was told that everyone here speaks English, and I'm finding that that's not necessarily true. Most of them know snippets of the language, but have a hard time forming sentences. They have a hard time understanding us when we talk, even if we speak slowly. It adds an element of challenge to communication. But even this population speaks better English than we do Japanese, which is a sad commentary on Americans.

Lesson learned: Nihongo amari hanase imasen. (I don't speak much Japanese).

'Absorbing' the culture

Thursday was the day I've been waiting for. A group of Rotarians took us to a Japanese spa. Its a huge building with several attractions. There is a large pool with rounded blocks that form a maze. The current flows a certain way, and you jog with it. It was cute to watch the elderly Japanese women, bobbing up and down, swim caps on their heads. There are little "rest stops" along the way, where you can back up to jets or relax in a hot tub.

All the water is from the ocean, which is supposed to be good for you, but I didn't catch why.

One room is like a cold steam room. You lay on lawn chairs while sea mist floats in around you. We also tried lying in a bathtub with jets that move around to different parts of your body.

The grand finale was getting a mud pack. A cute Japanese woman smeared my back with thick mud paste, as I laid one a table. She wrapped me in thin plastic, then with a thicker padded plastic comforter. There was heat that radiated through the table. The mud is supposed to help with aches and pains. There was also a choice of a seaweed paste, which is supposed to make your skin soft.

We spent three hours at the spa, and after a lunch of rice, eggs and seafood mixed together, we were all ready to take a nap.

Instead we visited a ranger station, went to a vegetable and fish market, went to a park visitors center, and went to coffee twice. I told you, they pack it in. At the same time, I was constantly consulting our translator, Shuski, on how to say certain sentences in Japanese.

It was a great day. Now I'm back with my host family (The photo is of my room here). We ate sushi with more intriguing seafood and watched sumo wrestling. I couldn't help but laugh a couple times at these big fat guys in little diapers going around slapping their belts.


Tonight was a little easier, and I really tried to use more Japanese. I showed the Web site of the newspaper I work for. At one point, my host mom, Atsuko, pointed at the legal notices and asked what they were. She and Tetsuo were fascinated. Try explaining in Japanese why the government has to auction off a house when it's in foreclosure. I managed though, and it's always rewarding when the light goes on on the other end — signaling success.

Lesson learned: Sea urchin isn't half bad. It's sea cucumber I can't stomach.

Lessons in bathing

Okay, so I finally figured it out. In my last entry, I mentioned how everyone shares the same bath water. Well, our translator, Shuski, gave me some clarity on the matter. The bathroom I mentioned is a shower. The whole room. When you walk in, there is a shower head you pull from the wall and a cover that hides a drain. You sit on a stool and wash your hair, etc. The final step is to get into the bathtub.

So, that's a little better. I guess it's similar to sitting in a hot tub, since you're already clean. I just feel so relieved.

Lesson learned: The Japanese aren't as unhygienic as I thought they were.

Feed the birds

The Japanese don't kid around when they sight see. Wednesday we jumped from landmark to landmark, starting at the Jodogahama Beach. The highlight was taking a boat off the coast, passing by the myriad of huge rocks jutting out of the ocean. The Rotary members accompanying us pointed out the eastern most point of the big island of Japan.


At most parks I have gone to in my life, you bump into sign after sign that says "Please don't feed the animals." Here, they encourage it. They gave out slabs of bread to throw to the seagulls, which drew hordes of them to duck close to the tarp roof that covered the boat. They will take it directly from your hand — and as we found out later, your head, and your mouth.

Afterwards, we had lunch at a traditional Japanese restaurant, compete with low tables where we sat on the floor, and more seafood. We also went to another town on the coast to see the wall they had built to guard against tsunami, as well as visited some underground caves.


Tonight is the first night on our trip we are staying with host families. I would be lying if I said it isn't awkward. It's hard enough to stay in a complete stranger's home alone, but when you don't understand each other, it adds a whole other element of uneasiness. I'm staying with a couple named Atsuko and Tetsuo. They have been very gracious, making me a huge dinner and asking me questions about my life at home.

The guest room's floor is covered in straw mats, called totami. You sleep on a cushion on the floor. The customary thing is to take a bath at night. You are not supposed to use soap or drain the water tub, because the whole family should use the same water. They allow the guest to go first, so I am the lucky one, but it's hard to believe they are okay with bathing in the water I just stepped out of, and there was no shower in their bathroom.

Lesson learned: Sleeping on the floor isn't so bad.

On to the coast

Tuesday afternoon we arrived in Miyako and checked into a quaint hotel downtown. Though we aren't to present at a Rotary meeting until Friday night, we had a reception with about 30 people. They are so sweet, trying as hard as they can to communicate in English.

It takes some work on both party's ends, and much of the night we all had our dictionaries out. One guy was trying to tell me that there is a comedian in Japanese theater named Yosem Ite, like our national park, At first I thought he was asking if I worked in Yosemite. Then I thought he saw Yosemite in the theater. Finally I realized what he was saying, and even now, I don't have full confidence that that's what it was.


After dinner, a few of them brought us to a tiny bar near our hotel. The bartender made up these teal blue cocktails that had a grapefruit essence. In each of them, he had carved a sea creature out of grapefruit skin with remarkable accuracy. There was a fish, a sea horse, a dragon, and some others. His specialty was an apple that he carved the center from and mixed a drink the cup the skin creates. On the surface of the drink, he drew cherry trees and blossoms.


Lesson learned: A 15 minute wait is worth it for a cocktail here.

Toilet mystery solved

Tuesday, we left Takashi and took a bus to Miyako, which is a well known fishing port on the eastern coast of Japan. He handed us off to a young woman named Yori, who drove about two hours to get to Morioka, rode two more with us on the bus and then turned around and had to drive back home.

Apparently, that job was advertised for, and she went through an interview in English to win the position. Yori was really sweat, and it's too bad we don't get to see more of her.

It was fun to have a female guide, to ask some of the more personal burning questions we had. Erin didn't wait but for two seconds to ask what had been all on our minds. We got on the bus and she goes, "I'm so happy we have a girl. So which way do you face on the toilet."

She is referring to the trough-like toilets installed in the ground that are in many public restrooms here. It requires that you squat over them. We've, of course, been fascinated with them ever since we got here, trying to figure out the proper method of use.



Yori cleared up the mystery, explaining that you face the tank, not the door as all of us have been doing. That allows you to avoid getting splashed and reach the toilet paper, which is usually back by the tank.

Lesson learned: There are some things a man guide can just not help you with.

Meet Pocari

There is a drink served in the many vending machines in Japan called Pocari Sweat. The first time one of this saw it, it evoked a very strange image. Erin, mimed it for us, wiping her brow and pretending to scoop it up in a bottle.

It's sort of been a joke among our team ever since. Finally, to break our curiosity, Beth bought a bottle and gave it to Erin to try. It is basically an energy drink, and tastes similar to gatorade, but I can't quite get over the name. I don't know why, but it somehow affects the taste.

Lesson learned: Pocari sweats a lot.

A little photo fun

For the most part, all written language is in Japanese characters. But there are these little snippets of English, mostly on advertisments. The grammer is a little off, but it's so cute, you just have to smile.




Japanese restuarants and shops hang these banners over their doorways when they're open. Also to the right of the door, you can kind of see the plastic food display. I guess it's somewhat of an art form. For us, it helps us pick our our food.

Trying it all

The last couple days have been a blur of eating strange food, tripping over our tongues as we try to speak Japanese and visiting the highlights of Morioka, where we arrived on Sunday morning.

I'm here on a professional exchange through the Rotary, while at the same time, I'm sending back stories to the newspaper I work for. There are five of us here: Aimee, Beth, Erin, and our team Rotary leader Andy.

Our host, Takashi, has been more than gracious. He seems to anticipate very need, or want, we might have.

Meal times have provided some of our best lessons in Japanese culture. They start with a hot towel to wash your hands with. From there, you must be careful where you set your chop sticks. Of course, it was me who stuck mine in my rice. Takashi looked at my bowl and said, "Where did you learn to use chop sticks?" Then I learned that setting the utensils in your rice has connotations of death and is only done at funerals. Oops.

One of our dinners was at this restaurant tucked on the second story of a down town building. Takashi ordered up a veritable smorgasbord of seafood. The waiter brought plate after plate of the kind not typically found on an American dinner table: mollusks, grey masses of crunchy, yet slimy tentacles; bright orange squid, large oysters still in their shell; whole baby shrimp, legs and eyes in tact; octopus, tuna and crab. Oh and we had a little Sake, too.


Beth, who seems to be born with a Japanese palate, eagerly sampled each course. To my credit, I tried everything that was set in front of me, smiling instead of gagging at the slimy things I was swallowing. I am a notoriously picky eater, so my parents would have been proud.

Sunday was also the day we visited a Shinto shrine. We sat around a short table and drank green tea, while Takashi wrote our names in the three types of Japanese characters.

Monday, we headed to a craft fair where you can participate in making some of the crafts. My favorite was dying handkerchiefs with indigo.


A slim woman, her hands blue to her wrists, softly explained the process in Japanese, with Takashi close by to translate. Clipping plastic pieces to the cloth, twisting it with rubber bands or pinning on chop sticks yielded white designs after the cloth was dipped in vats of the indigo. After rinsing them in water and pulling off the tools we used to make them, the woman ironed the cloths dry.

The final products looked nothing like the intricate versions the business sold at the front. Whether Takashi snuck off to pay or she gave them to us for free, I'm not sure, but the woman said goodbye without charging us.

Now we're off to the coast to stay with host families for the first time.

Lesson learned: Sea cucumbers are not cucumbers (they're mollusks.)

Over the ocean

Eleven hours on the plane went quicker than we thought it would and consisted mostly of cycles of eating, sleeping and watching movies on the small screens in front of each seat.

For those of you who don't know, I'm traveling to Japan with a Rotary foreign exchange team. There are four of us, plus a Rotary member who serves as our team leader.

We flew into Osaka first, which is south of Tokyo, with plans to fly north the next day. After deplaining, we found a shuttle to take us to our hotel. Every announcement on the bus became an opportunity to try to decipher her words. We would celebrate any time we understood any word in the string of sentences she spoke. We stayed at the Ana Tower, a lone sky-rise near the maze of overpasses highways that led there. Our 31st story room provided a spectacular vantage point. Looking over the rows of houses and high rises, the city don't look much different than the Bay Area, Aimee pointed out. The differences are in the subtle details: round signs indicate speed limits, the bright primary-colored signs run vertically, drivers drive on the left side of the road.

It was only about 6 p.m. Japanese time when we finally settled into our accommodations, so Beth and I decided to go to the gym at the hotel. We changed our minds when we realized it cost about $20 for entry. Instead, we headed outside for a jog, only slightly deterred at the cold blast of wind that greeted us at the door. Our surroundings weren't all that unfamiliar, and Beth commented that we could have been in Modesto. Just after she said that, we rounded a corner to see a shopping center with a Gap store. We were somewhat of a spectacle ourselves as we paused to wait at a light. A group of Japanese giggled at us running in place, one guy kicking up his heels behind him in imitation. Apparently, while going to a gym is customary, jogging outside is not. Waiting for the elevator upon our return, we laughed to think we had just taken a run at about 2 a.m. California time.

We ate dinner on the top floor, in front of windows that ran the length of each wall, with the lights of Osako sparking below us. Since we weren't all that hungary — oh, and full meals at the hotel varied from $30 to $200 — we settled on appetizers. The waitress delivered my soup in a dainty tea-cup sized bowl with a lid. The entertainment that night was a woman on a grand piano singing blues. She could have been American for all the accent that came through the lyrics.

We all fell into bed that night in exhaustion, but all four of the girls woke up at about 2;30 a.m., wide awake and ready to go. We left at 5:30 a.m. for the north, taking a domestic flight to a town called Hanamaki. A whole slew of Japanese Rotarians greeted us when we got off the plane, holding up banners with our pictures on them. From that moment on, we've been treated like rock stars.

More to come.

Lesson learned: I really don't know any Japanese.

Signing off

If there is one thing I've learned in my life, it's that things always take longer than you think they will.

Here it is midnight the night before (or the day) I depart for a month-long trip to Japan, and I'm just finishing up the list of things I needed to do.

Ok, I'm ready now.

So I should have Internet access there. (If I don't, it's really going to screw up my boss' plans for me to send stories back.) Anyway, I'll try to keep up with this blog, but we'll see.

Lesson learned: Time flies no matter what.

Answered prayer

I had a mini miracle happen this week. Finances have been a concern for me lately, with all the stuff I needed to buy before my trip, and a couple of other unexpected expenses. The future wasn't looking much better, because I was told I would be paid for eight hour days while I'm in Japan, which means I wouldn't get the overtime I'm usually rely on.

On Monday, I prayed for God to just make my funds stretch to cover everything.

On Tuesday, my boss called me into his office and told me they had averaged my overtime and will be paying me an hour overtime a day to compensate for it. He added that the company is giving me $200 for other expenses. Later he delivered a $300 check, saying he decided to add a bit on.

It gets better.

Later that day, I was covering the board of supervisors meeting when the county counsel, who is a member of the Rotary Club who is sponsoring me, came up to say hello. He asked me in passing if I got the check the rotary was giving me for expenses. Surprised, I said no, I didn't know of one. He went to the meeting Wednesday and picked it up for me. When he handed me the check I was shocked. It was for $1,000.

I even mentioned this to my boss, offering to return the check he gave me, but he declined. I feel lucky to have such support in my life, human and spiritual.

Lesson learned: God doesn't mess around when answering prayer.

Making a list

A week ago, I sat with a nice buffer between then and my departure date for Japan. It seemed at the time that I had it all together: my presentation was done, I was practicing Japanese about a half hour each day, my tickets were purchased and I had all the pieces of my uniform I needed.

Then the list of "to dos before I go" started getting longer. It includes everything from seemingly trivial things like getting my hair cut (notice I said "seemingly") to items that will result in my arrest if I don't (doing my taxes).

I've also chosen this opportunity to deep clean my apartment. I have this fear that I will come back to a nest of mold, mice and spider webs if I don't. This is likely unrealistic, considering that the soy sauce at the bottom of my fridge has probably been there a lot longer than a month. I think my motivation to to this stems from two things:

1) The great ant invasion of 2004. I left a sink full of dishes on weekend when I was away and came back to find the insects had set up a multi-level fort in my kitchen. Lines of them were marching from my window sill onto my cabinets. It was the most disgusting thing ever, and ever since then I won't leave anything out when I go out of town.

2) I can never do anything half way. Maybe that's why I don't clean much. Because I know when I do, it will be an all day, finger grinding, on my knees effort to purge my apartment of every spare crumb.

Needless to say, cleaning is just one of the tasks I need to finish before I fly away. I won't bore you with the two-page list.

Lesson learned: There's no escaping it. Going on vacation is work.

Count down

Four days and counting. I can't believe I'm going to be on the other side of the world in less than a week.

The weather is making it a little tough to leave California though. It is supposed to be 80 degrees today. I looked up the weather in Japan: It's 20 degrees Fahrenheit and snowing. It's the snow I've been waiting for all winter, just in the wrong venue.

I'm not complaining. I'm really excited for this, frostbite or not.

Another recent development is that my sister may be joining me at the end of my trip. My boss okayed staying for an extra week, but changing my ticket could prove tricky. I have to wait till I get to Japan, and I won't know what the cost is till I do it. Cross you fingers that it all works out.

Skeleton crew

Wow, so I think we hit rock bottom at work. We have officially lost six employees at my newspaper in the past two months. We're dropping like flies. It didn't help that the managing editor broke her wrist. Yesterday, I was sitting there looking around looking at all the empty desks.

I've never seen my boss so panicked. I worked more than 12 hours. When the paper came out this morning, it was my story, Amy's, an AP story and a lot of pictures.

I can't look at a computer screen anymore.

Lesson learned: We really may be in trouble.

In the trees

I finally got a taste of what I was waiting for. Ever since it started getting colder, I've been waiting for a good power day on my snowboard. Craving it.

The big storms we had last week made it possible — but only really for those of us who don't have to work during the week. Unfortunately, I'm not one of those people. The problem with this area is it warms up fast after a storm.

I got out Saturday though and found some some nice little pockets of snow. It got softer and softer as the day went on though. Steven and I took a few runs in the morning, taught a few lessons, and took a few in the afternoon.

It was fun to be in the trees. It was sad though, because it was my last day since I'm going to Japan in two weeks. I feel like my season ended before it started.

Lesson learned: I guess if I really want snow, I can't live in a warm climate.

So much for "great"

I've learned that even thinking the thought "Wow, everything today is just falling into place" is dangerous. It's like an instant jinx. Case in point: today.

For my story today, I had to call superintendents at 15 school districts, plus some teachers and board members. Usually, a story like this takes about three days, by the time everyone calls me back.

Today, magically (I still don't know how it happened), I got ahold of just about everyone before lunch. I wrapped up the story by about 3:30 p.m. This was really good news, because I really wanted to get to the gym for this step dance class that is running only this month — one that is my all-time favorite.

As I walked out of the office at 4:15 p.m., I was already celebrating my "great" day.

But I ran into an acquaintance at the gym as I was getting changed. We ended up talking for awhile, so I missed the class. That wasn't so bad because what we were talking about was worth it. But I only got in a 20-minute work out before I had to run to my online virtual classroom appointment.

This is for the Japanese learning program I'm taking to prepare for the professional exchange I'm going on in a couple weeks to Japan. I already missed the first class because no one at the program told me I couldn't participate using a Mac. I had to set it up on a PC at work. That was a whole drama filled with technical difficulties and about a half dozen phone calls. By the time I got on, I found out the class was mistakenly cancelled.

My exchange team and I decided to bump up a conference call we had planned.

That worked, but by the time I got off the phone it was 8:45 p.m., and I was feeling a little worn out from running to one thing to another. And I still had four messages on my cell phone's voicemail. And all I had for dinner was a peanut butter sandwich in the car on the way to my class and a piece of cake left over from cake day at work.

It's all good, I thought, "Grey's Anatomy" is on.

Well, it's a rerun.

Lesson learned: So much for optimism.