Rain Shower for a Bike Ride

Japan has rain.  It met me about five minutes into my bike ride home and left me five minutes before the journey's conclusion.  My clothes have appreciated the abatement as they take a rest from the downpour on the porch outside.  How is it that the people along the way knew this would be only a passing shower, taking temporary refuge under trees and bridges?  How were they so faithful that a leisurely Sunday would not be taken from them, their outdoor pleasures snatched away until another week of free time had accrued, past due?  But there I was, drenched and stared upon by eyes more curious than normal.  Who was this strange person who would move through the shower, against the force of nature?  That I could not wait with them the amount of time, to suspend the journey, to suspend the soccer or baseball game a little longer.  Perhaps I had thought it would be like so many other rains and that I would celebrate it with a dry towel and a bowl of soup and the sound of it in the trees from within a dry home.  Perhaps I forgot that it was Sunday, and that there are certain rules of man and nature, rules concerning the treatment of time and weather that go beyond the activities of the home.  Perhaps I was missing Kaneko-san, our HPAC opera rehearsal having postponed our weekly hour.  Perhaps I should occasionally check the weather, or linger longer after early dismissed rehearsals, or leave more quickly.

But my Sunday leisure become the smell of the rain, the sheets of it coming down on the river, opening tiny holes in its surface, the open path shared by the occasional crazy runner or the elderly woman smiling sympathetically at me from under an umbrella.  I'm still not sure if this is the rainy season.  It's hard to delineate the definition of such a time, the start and finish of such a phase of the year.  When does it begin, when does it end?

Figaro

I don't know Italian, but it seems the sound of the language has become thoroughly infused with the sound of Rossini arias to me.  It is surprising to hear these arias in a new unknown language, Japanese.   "Grazie" becomes "Dōmo,"  and "buona sera," becomes "oyasuminasai." It's very educational.

In these early days of rehearsal before we've earned the presence of singers, our conductor and his assistant are playing karaoke with us.  The little assistant sits behind a table and several stacks of scores, singing all the cadenzas and nuances of the singers in full playful passion, vocally marking impossible passages and enjoying the flurry of Figaro.  He wears a khaki business suit and sneakers and is attentive to our conductor's every needs, taking time in certain places to teach us how we will need to respond.  The librarian served him a bottle of water after the second or third aria.

It will be great to have the singers, but I'm quite fond of this man's contribution to the opera process.  I hope he sings along in the green room during performances, even if I can't hear him.

Goodbye Dear Ben

In place of the Salad Express, it was the Hanshin Tigers that took Ben away today.  I encouraged him to get some Japanese pastries for the ride and at the encouragement of one of the bus workers, he got on the bus early.  From the other side of the window he motioned his enjoyment to me as he ate one.

We both individually watched the three Japanese bus workers stare at their coordinated digital clocks, watching the seconds arrive at 11:45:00, at which point the gentlemen by the bus door removed his cap, bowed, and released the bus from it's hold.  It's been great to share a bit of the world with him.

Rokko Hike and Onsen

A successful hike up Rokko-san and over the other side of the mountain to the town of Arima, famous for its onsen.  After about 3 and a half hours, numerous konnichiwa's, and a few onigiri, we arrived at the top where there wasn't really a victorious view.  In place of it, however, were some very friendly Japanese hikers who wanted to have their pictures taken with us.  Those pictures are on my brother's camera so perhaps I will futuristically abscond them.

We descended the opposite side of the mountain and followed another group of Japanese hikers, a bunch of retired gentlemen who showed us a shoruto cutto towards the town.  We followed them, but decided to give them their space when they started stretching at a break point.  We walked around the town, looking for food and found a free foot bath of which we made glorious use.  We had planned to do onsen there, but decided to go to a different one later in the evening near Takarazuka–we hadn't factored the sweatiness of our clothes and couldn't fathom changing back into them after a purging cleanse.

Some takoyaki and a soft serve later, we were on a winding bus through the country-side headed back to Takarazuka where we joined some friends for conveyor belt sushi.  Ben won a prize from all the plates we collectively consumed (a small piece of plastic food!), and we migrated to the miraculous Takarazuka onsen near Nakayama.  Onsen, one of the most beautiful parts of living in Japan.   Ben was the same as most people in being nervous to do his first onsen.  There are a lot of rules and rituals meant to keep the baths clean for everyone.  But when I saw him afterwards he was glowing.  There are few things that feel as good as a soak in the hot baths.

It's hard to believe that this was Ben's last night.  Has he even been here?  Tomorrow, he'll board the Salad Express.......

the beginning of the hike

mountain kittens, old friends from the last attempt to climb in January

Ben and Kobe;  surveying this new unsettled land  

a helpful ladder and a helpful Japanese man

up and up

going where nobody's gone before!
(hmmm, where did those wires come from?)

foot soak in the onsen!  (keeping the clothes on till later....)

Tsukiji (sort-of), Imperial Palace, and National Museum of Modern Art

Some days are perfect because the light turns green as you get to the intersection and the weather is sunny but not too hot.  Other days are perfect because the fish market is having one of its arbitrary fixed holidays and the rain makes the Imperial Gardens glow a brighter green.

Our feet are slowly drying in this third hour of our Shinkansen trip back to Takarazuka.   As we walked in the rain, we quickly oscillated between the solace of empty peaceful paths with the sound of pattering raindrops, and the misery of wet feet and heavy backpacks.  We ventured to a sleeping fish market, a restorative street-side soba noodle breakfast, a walk through the Imperial Palace, and a visit to the National Museum of Modern Art.  It was a beautiful day.  Tokyo was good to us.  

Asakusa, Akihabara, Tokyo Dome (and ice cream)

We started the day with a trip to Asakusa, a wholesale shopping district, complete with shrine in the northeast corner of Tokyo.  I had been mistaken in my optimism for a hard-boiled egg in my convenient store breakfast, but happily replaced it with a kinako ice cream "burger" from one of the small shops lining the streets on the way to the shrine.  It foretold a good day.

We looked through various stands, sampling street food, buying gifts and souvenirs and made our way to the district of wholesale Buddhist and Shinto paraphernalia as well as the district of wholesale kitchen goods.  Finally, I've found the source of all the plastic food displays in Japan!  Unfortunately, they were prohibitively expensive for the pocket of a novelty-minded tourist, so they will rest within the glass displays outside of restaurants and not take up space on my dining room table.

We then headed to Akihabara, the electronics and anime center of Tokyo.  A space fighting desperately for attention, but outside my grasp of understanding.  Ben and I slid through, and oriented ourselves toward Tokyo Dome.  

Once there we took a ferris wheel ride to see the city from above, walked around the mall shops, and got our tickets for the baseball game.  In Japan, it's fine to bring food and drinks into the stadium, so brought some Sappor beer, ramen and seaweed crackers and enjoyed some takoyaki and yakitori once inside.  We watched the man in front of us arrive, take off his business jacket in Mr.Rogers-like fashion and replace it with a green Hawks jersey, right over his white workman's shirt.  The crowd performed beautifully, the game was close and exciting.  The Nippon Ham Fighters won.

In our attempt to walk the twisting streets back to our hotel we got disoriented and stepped into a 7-11 for help.  The workers were more confused than we, but a friendly patron came over to us and took it upon himself to invite us to walk with him to a certain street from which we could find our way.  We talked a bit about baseball in broken English and Japanese.  And he made sure to get us pointed in the right direction.  

We got ice cream to celebrate.  From start to end, delicious.

Shinjuku (Arrival in Tokyo)

Ben and I arrived in Tokyo after a quick Shinkansen ride.  We walked around Ginza (a bit too upscale to keep us long) and then walked around the Imperial Palace to find our hotel.  After a brief pit stop, we got on our feet again and headed out to find a bar run by Buddhist monks, and the huge shopping district Shinjuku.  Lights and alleys and so many (so so so many) people.  Most of my pictures are on my camera so I can't get them to my travelling iPad blog, but here is one I can share.  I took it early on in the evening, before I had any idea what my eyes would see.  So I'll leave you with this now timid initial impression until I can share more.  Tokyo is vast and amazing.  There is so much to take in.  I don't think we have any idea how tired we are.