Accurate Generalizations (of the Japanese)

The Japanese are an interesting species so here are a few things I've noticed about them.

As many of us may know, the Japanese love their technology. While riding the train, I've realized I can count at least seven people typing on their cell phones at any given time. Even in the no phone zone, in spite of their tendency to be extremely law abiding. The Japanese also love their cartoon mascots. I would venture to say that items don't sell unless they have a little

character to dance around and endorse the product. They love cuteness. Often times the sinks don't have dark blue and red dots on the nozzles for hot and cold water, they're light pink

and baby blue. It makes me think this may be normal in the rest of the world, and ours are red and blue merely for propaganda purposes. Most of them tend to have dangly charms hanging from their cell phones, and privacy screens to hide the texting and gaming they are doing to and from work.

One of my favorite things about the Japanese is how they bring technology into everything. The toilet seats will spray you with water if you so choose, after you are done doing your business. The best are the heated toilet seats though. I don't know if I'm adventurous enough to use the sprayer yet. They often times have a button to push for when people don't want their poopie splashes to be heard.

This noise maker makes sounds like lapping water or birds tweeting. What better way to announce that you're taking a poop? I think you're better off just taking your chances of people hearing your cannon ball hit the water.

They also love to wear t-shirts with english phrases on them though it often times makes zero sense. My favorite one was written on a t-shirt for sale that read Will display anything has fitness. I like to just walk the streets of Tokyo to read such phrases.

If you are wondering through a street fair they're constantly yelling in Japanese. If you go into a store, the sales associates might be straightening the racks, but they are yelling "Welcome to our store" over and over again in Japanese with an extremely piercing sound in their voices. You may hear it coming from three or four people at any given time. It gets a bit obnoxious, but is still quite funny.

Despite all of the funny things the Japanese do, I've noticed they are extremely helpful and will go out of their way to help me if I am lost. I've had many people offer to walk me to where I need to be. They are quite polite.

It's not uncommon to see little school children taking the subway alone. Just yesterday I saw a six year old boy reading his picture book and riding the train alone. It is very safe, and very clean. There are no trash cans anywhere, but I have only seen one piece of litter in eight days. Everyone just takes it home with them, and throws it away there. There is also no graffiti anywhere.

Though Japan may be a funny and unique place, it is definitely a place that is worth visiting. I mean, where else will you have poop splash concealers at your disposal, and cartoon characters surrounding you to sell you the latest tupperware?

Traveling Through Japan

The day after I arrive I hop on the Shinkansen (the bullet train) and head for Osaka. I had originally planned to go to four towns in three-and-a-half days, but this turns out to be a bad idea because I find myself on trains way too much, and that's not what this is about. I arrive in Osaka at my hostel, and have to remove my shoes before I go in. So Japanese! When I walk into my room there are five other beds. Three of them have people sitting on them, and the firstthing one of the girls says is, "YAY, another girl!" It feels so good to already have a friend. I get to know the three of them and find out they are Canadian, and traveling through Japan together.They invite me to go to dinnerwith the three of them and I graciously accept. We walk two minutes down the road, and enterthis tiny Japanese restaurant.Each of them seem to befamiliar with the customs because as they each step inside this petit restaurant, they do a small bow with feet together. We sit down and I confess that I don't eat seafood. It's a good conversation starter, but also prompts them to insist I eat an octopus leg. So I take the dare.ICK! They are familiar with the lady behind the grill because they ate here the other night. When we leave they give her a small gift and she invites us behind the grill for some photos. It has been a wonderful night, and the next morningwe all go our separate ways. I walk around Osaka, and go to a pagoda/museum.

I head for Hiroshima.When I arrive in Hiroshima, I find out my hostel is not in Hiroshima, but is in fact twenty-five minutes away by tram in a town called Miyajima. I'm a little put off by this because I have plans to see the Atomic Bomb sites and I'm staying further awa

y than I had realized, but I don't have much of a choice. The second I arrive at the hostel, I'm invited by Yoshi, a guy who works at the hostel, and two british guys who are getting ready to go fishing for clams and oysters. They put a beer in my hand, and we immediately take our shoes and socks off to go on the pontoon. The pontoon is more like a huge raft that we have to walk really far out

on. This is amazing. Across the water is a mountainous island known as Miyajima Island. So here I stand, just arrived, and I already have a beer in my hand and I'm standing on the water with a spectacular view. This is the life. We catch dinner, and go back to the hostel for a Barbecue. About eight more people join us. This is when I decide I have to stay another night.

The next day I head to the Atomic Bomb sites out in Hiroshima. There is an entire park exactly where the bomb fell. I go into the museum, and come out pretty depressed. The museum tells stories of mothers trying to peel clothes off of

their burned children, and their kids dying in their arms. There are people in the park

approaching tourists and asking them to sign a petition to outlaw A-Bombs. How do you say no after that?

It isI make my way back to the hostel, and decide to go across the water on the fairy to explore Miyajima island.

beautiful, and is so Japanese. I take some awkward photos, and head

back to the hostel after getting an ice cream. The second I get back to the hostel, I meet two Californian boys who want to go to Miyajima island. Johnny, one of the boys, invites me along and tells me they're going to the hot springs. We arrive back at Miyajima island, and walk around as the sun sets. One of them was born in Japan and speaks Japanese. We arrive at the hot springs, and it looks more like a traditional Japanese hotel. We are given towels, and are ushered down to the lobby of the hot springs. "Okay, we'll meet back here in one hour." So we go our different ways (boys and girls). I'm a little nervous since I don't know the protocol for Japanese baths. I slide the paper door open, and shut it behind me. It's dead quiet. I slide open another door to reveal a room full of baskets for customer clothing and a huge vanity that wraps around the room. I remove all of my clothes, and put on a towel. There are signs around the room, but they're all in Japanese so I just hope I'm not breaking any rules. I'm told that as long as I don't have any tattoos I'm okay.

Tattoos here are associated with a well-known gang, so you aren't allowed to have them if you join a gym or go in an Onsen (bath). I begin to use their products, and pamper myself. Okay, now it's bath time.

I slide open the next paper door, and there is one other woman in there. I watch her out of the corner of my eye to make sure I'm doing this right. This room has a vanity that wraps around one side of it. Each spot has a little wooden stool and a bamboo bucket. I sit down and pamper myself with hot oils, shampoo, conditioner and salts. Then it's bath time. The spring is hot, and there is a floor to ceiling window pressed right up against the mossy mountainside that has fresh water flowing over the rocks. This is the life.

Leaving for Japan

It's Wednesday May 12th the day I've been waiting for, anticipating, and somewhat dreading. I make my last-minute preparations and my dad honks the horn. He's here. I have this nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach that's been nagging me since the night before. My dad drives me to the airport and my sister and the baby are accompanying us. I'm in the back with the baby because I want every last second with her. Once we make it to the airport we say our goodbyes, I turn around, and disappear into the newly renovated SFO. I've just taken the first steps, and it feels better than I ever thought it would. It was saying goodbye that I was so nervous about. I feel the nervousness melt away, and this new feeling of excitement and independence replaces that impending sense of doom.

It's an eleven hour flight and I'm in the middle of two Japanese women. The flight is full of Japanese people. Even this excites me. I land in Tokyo at 3:10pm local time. It takes me three hours to finally figure out all the trains, and get to Jen. As I exit the train station I hear my name. My name has never sounded so good. Jen is a college friend of my best friend Amanda. Jen and I have only met a few times, but she is so welcoming and takes me back to her little Japanese apartment. I get settled, and we go into the heart of Tokyo for some sushi.

We head home and I finally get to go to sleep. The day has been successful. The Japanese are very helpful, and sometimes like to touch my butt.

Leaving Sacramento

Today I leave my job. It's not easy to say goodbye, but I know that I have to. These people have become so much apart of my daily life, that it will be hard not seeing them every day. I know about their lives, their kids, their spouses. They confide in me and tell me their problems, ask me for advice. They're apart of me. I didn't think it would be so difficult to leave, but it is.

I've always been known as the person who likes to do what is comfortable, and this is nothing like that person. Sometimes I wonder what the hell I'm thinking. I can already feel myself making the transition into the adventurer I know I will be forced to become. I feel like I'm standing at the precipice of my comfort zone, and preparing to blindly leap into the unknown. It's the only way to describe something like this, but I know we can all relate to it on some level. When (or do I dare say 'if') I come back in one piece, I will have been successful. I've read that you have to just keep going, and eventually you'll make it back. Or, as my stepdad says to my mom when she's afraid to fly, "Just bloody well know you'll come out on the other side."