Matsumoto Castle – Sept 28th

Another early rise, but I was quite punctual today. We were due to meet at 8am at Shinjuku station; a recipe for disaster, mainly because it’s just so easy to get lost in Shinjuku station. I met up with Reed at the rotary at 7:30. He had been there since 7, and only Willy had shown up, and was now missing again. At about quarter to 8 we decided that we waited as long as we could, and started to make our way to the station. As we crossed the street, we ran right into a large group of students, including the ones that we had been missing, led by Dr. Shek. Relieved, we went to Shinjuku and met up with everyone. Without much further ado, we jumped on the bus and got out of town.

The ride there was quite enjoyable. The people in my immediate area played a lot of word games and stuff to keep things interesting. After stopping for a bite to eat and a view of Mount Fuji, we toddled back onto the bus and continued our journey. In fact, in the collective six weeks I had spent in Japan, that was the first time I saw Fuji-san. If all goes well, I’ll reach the summit sometime next July.

We stopped at a small village called “Narai” for a couple hours to poke around a bit. Apparently, Narai is one of the few remaining pit-stops on the old feudal era roads that the Daimyo (lords) took every other year to pay homage to the shogun (head honcho) in Edo. The village was very small and on the outside appeared to be very old, but the spider web of power and telephone lines overhead were a constant reminder of the age we currently reside in. The view around the town is quite beautiful, it’s nestled in the midst of many lush tree-covered mountains. After walking around the area a bit, we came across a park with a zip line that every absolutely had to try. We then made our way over to an amazing wooden bridge overlooking a small river. I sat under the bridge and admired the shade, breeze, and scenery my vantage point provided. Some of the students ventured down to the stream, and a couple brave Japanese students took off their shoes and waded into the cold water. Hans sat nearby under the bridge, but when he went to stand up, struck his head on the underside of the bridge hard enough to draw blood. His wounds weren’t fatal, so we all started to head back to the bus.

The rest of the trip was relatively uneventful. More jokes and gossip and reading and sleeping were the staple of the day. We made one more quick stop at a shop that sold urushi (lacquerware) goods. I didn’t buy anything, but in retrospect I probably should have; urushi that particular area’s specialty.

We finally arrived at Matsumoto about an hour later, and spent maybe an hour or so exploring the castle and the castle grounds. Of all the castles in Japan, only two have not been completely rebuilt (replicated): Himeji and Matsumoto. Matsumoto castle is not very large, but the historical significance and the fact that it is in its original form made it much more interesting than Osaka castle, which felt too new and obviously rebuilt to accommodate tourists. We admired the view from the various floors, and awed at the prospect that we were walking in the footsteps of men who shaped the nation hundreds of years ago. Well, “we” might not have felt that way, but I certainly did.

Back to the bus, we all went. The ride back was decidedly more subdued. An enormous nomikai was planned for that evening, and we were running behind schedule. Alas, we would be at least an hour late for the event, and so we had to make our own plans. To be honest, by the time we all got back to ‘baba, I didn’t feel much like drinking, but a few other Japanese students showed up and cajoled me into going to a smaller nomikai with some of the other CSU students. Teru had made a reservation at the fire-hazard place, called Han-Zou. The drinks are watered down and the food isn’t that good, but it was the cheapest venue and only place we could find at such short notice. Some of the people, upon seeing where we were headed, decided to dotakyan (flake) and took off. We didn’t go crazy or anything, but we had enough fun to warrant the expense (teaching random hand gestures to the Japanese students). By now, I think I’m ready for a couple liquor-free weeks.

We returned to ‘baba and found a sizable group of students from the big nomikai still gathered. A group was being organized to go to the Hub for a nightcap, including some people I knew, so I figured I’d go along as well. I didn’t order anything at the hub, having already spent plenty that evening, but I enjoyed some interesting company. I met a couple of the Italian students and a Japanese-Chinese girl from Shanghai named Yuu, decked out in Gothic Lolita fashion. I spent much of the evening speaking Japanese with the group, and eventually realized that I had missed my last train. Jin (the blondish-guy with his face in Teru’s crotch in the zip-line photo) said I could hang out with him and we could probably stay at Teru’s until the shihatsu (first train, usually around 5am). We talked for a bit longer and ran into a few more acquaintences, then went back up to ground level to meet up with Teru. He and a girl named Abe-chan took us to a local soba place, where they had a snack before parting ways. Teru led us to his apartment, ridiculously close to the station, and warned us to stay close and be quiet, for his landlord is fearsome and lives next door.

One surprising thing about Japan is the “mansion.” Americans hear that Japanese people live in mansions, and think “wow, they must be rich!” In reality, the word “mansion” has been imported into Japanese and the meaning has changed; it means “tiny-ass apartment” now. With space at such a premium, mansions do everything they can to minimize the amount of room a human being can take up and still technically “live.” That’s not to say there’s any shame in living in such a small space, as they typically pay about the same rent as an 800 square foot apartment back home. For this reason, I would probably never live on my own in the city unless I had the means for a bigger place. I can now honestly say that I wouldn’t want to live in a “mansion.”

And now for a bit of reverse culture shock: the European kiss. This evening, I’ve seen quite a few Japanese girls quite shaken up by the European greeting and parting gesture, which involves a kiss on the cheek. A lot of the French and Italian guys have brought this custom with them, and for obvious reasons, aren’t about to leave it at the gates. I just found it interesting just how jarring such an experience can be for the Japanese, who are only vaguely aware of the custom. Even some of the other foreign students who have fallen victim to this obvious excuse for physical contact appear quite uncomfortable; it’s either out of complete ignorance or blatant disregard for other cultures’ sense of space that these guys continue this practice. I’m anything but shocked.