While in Korea, on an overnight trip to Songnisan National Park, my friend, Jason, and I encountered a troop of Korean soldiers on a training hike. We met at the top of a mountain, on a rock formation that acted as a viewing platform for the surrounding countryside.
The soldiers pretty much ignored us until I asked if I could get a photo with some of them. Within seconds, we were surrounded by the whole troop.
I bought a six-pack of Asahi Super-Dry beer at a Seattle supermarket tonight, and — it’s crap! Don’t be fooled by the label, it’s not the same beer that you find in Japan. The tiny print says it’s bottled by Molsons in Canada, where they apparently don’t leave well enough alone. So disappointing.
My second night back in the States and where do I end up? A karaoke bar. I fucking hate karaoke. This is some sort of punishment…
I’m at Narita airport, waiting for my plane to take me back to Seattle. Somehow, one year of my life has passed by in the blink of an eye.
I can’t remember how long I’ve just assumed I’d live in Japan one day. It seems like something I’ve always planned on doing. This country has been in my conscious since a very early age, when I’d hear stories from my grandparents of their lives here in the early 20th century. I grew up having scraps of Japanese culture, language and cuisine weaving a cord between me and an exotic country across the sea.
My first visit to Japan was in 1981, when I was 13 years old. Nortoriously unadventurous at that time when it came to food, I suvived on rice, seaweed and two trips to McDonalds. Despite my lack of culinary adventure, the trip left a huge impression on me and I’ve wanted to return every since.
And now here I am at the end of a year of my life lived in Japan. Despite being excited about returning to the States to see family and friends, I have mixed feelings about leaving after only one year. It seems too short a time, really, to come to any fair conclusions as to what type of place Japan really is.
And as I write this, I’m having trouble coming up with anything like a neat summary of my time and of my experiences here. My mind is kind of mush now after three weeks of being uprooted — traveling, as well as leaving one life behind and returning to another I haven’t occupied for a year.
So, no deep thoughts at this point. Only a mention that I know I’ll be back one day.
Today is our final day in Okinawa. The visit has been all about beaches — not much cultural touring. Three nights of camping, two on a beautiful stretch of beach with no other campers. The north part of the main island is beautiful, once you get away from the ugly sprawl of Naha and Okinawa City. Unfortunately, the architecture here is even uglier than in the rest of Japan — everything is built to look like a concrete bunker. The American military presence is impossible to miss, even on the more remote beaches as military planes and helicopters fly overhead at regular intervals. But it is still possible to find more secluded beach areas on the main island. Wish we’d had more time to get to some of the more remote islands. I could easily spend another week or two here.
Back to Tokyo this afternoon.
My visit today to one of the world’s most militarized zones included a Disneyland-like ride down into the earth, a luncheon in a touristy restaurant with a view of miles of barbed wire fencing and a soundtrack featuring Janet Jackson singing Nasty, and a little Korean boy whose aunties thought nothing of letting him bring — and incessantly use — a toy space gun that made loud machine gun sounds as we drove through checkpoint after checkpoint of armed guards.
The demilitarized zone (DMZ) separating North and South Korea is both a chilling reminder of the region’s tensions and a somewhat chintzy tourist attraction.
I missed the earthquake by just a few hours. For the past couple weeks, I’ve been imagining I feel low-level earthquakes, though as far as I could tell there were never actual quakes. This happened several times, and has had me expecting a good shake before I left Japan. But my flight left too early.
I’m in Seoul now. On the agenda for tomorrow is a visit to the border with North Korea, including a tour of one of the underground tunnels built by the North for use in an invasion of the South.
One more thing, for those who might worry — there are no SARS cases in South Korea (I can’t count the number of times I had to explain this to Japanese friends when I told them of my travel plans).
Monday morning I hit the road. I’ll be traveling for three weeks, mostly in Japan with a quick trip over to South Korea.
05/26 — 05/30 : in Seoul, South Korea
05/30 — 05/30 : Arai, Japan, to see the Kodo drummers
05/31 — 06/02 : back to Sado Island
06/03 — 06/07 : in Okinawa, beach vacation!
06/08 — 06/12 : in Tokyo and surrounding areas
Jeremy’s coverage of the giant radish dance is a must-see.
There’s nothing like riding your bike on a hot day with a backpack crammed full of explosives.
Picked up enough fireworks earlier today for plenty of fun by the riverside tonight. I have no idea what I bought, but the two big bags look like they’re made for Pyro Barbie.