"Getting there is…” or “It’s just a ride.”

I’ve been sick recently, with what has been loosely translated as a “throat infection”, and vowed to myself that I would take it easy. That worked for a little while until I completely neglected it and exerted myself to what felt like a level of sickness beyond healing. My only regret is that the lovely tax paying citizens of this country are coughing up for my 3rd round of antibiotics, otherwise I’m happy with the experiences.
After months under a cozy kotatsu, with the windows closed and the heat on, it feels like rebirth to stroll among the living again, in sunshine and warm breezes. The azaleas are blooming on bushes that line the front of the High School and almost every local business. My short-cut to work (on mornings when the bread takes way too long to toast) has a particular stretch of road bordered by light pink and fuchsia blossoms. When mesmerized by the trees slowly exposing their varied shades of green, I accidentally step on baby beetles.
Being outside, in any season, is a joy. However, when the temperature isn’t cold enough to chill or hot/humid enough to sweat, it’s the best time to enjoy the outdoors. I realize this is not a new idea.
I’ve done a bit of hiking recently which strengthens my resolve to be outside as much as possible during this period of nascent summer. Luke and I recently traveled to a part of the prefecture I’ve never been to, and though we completely missed the trail we were supposed to be on, were witness to the quiet simplicity of retired, rural life. We passed tiny old women, their curling backs pushing them closer to the soil they were tending; narrow lines of concrete irrigation canals slicing the neighborhood into sections; older men on tractors in muddy pools that will be this season’s rice fields; and an overall feeling of peaceful solitude, lulled by the chorus of frogs trying to mate in the thick, marshy paddies.
So though we didn’t follow a trail, or reach any definitive goal, the journey was well worth it.
After an evening of debauchery with a visiting Mom and the folks in Izumo, I joined a picnic at Mihonoseki, Izumo, a pretty shoreline with the tallest (and probably whitest) lighthouse in the region. There was one menacing bird of prey that circled our picnic, and swooped only once at a frightened ALT before it finally gave up its fight with the wind.
I spent a few minutes on my own at the bottom of the porous cliffs that line the shore, and I took in some deep breaths. I spent some time on a beach in Hamada with a lovely visiting ex-ALT named Janelle the week prior and she mentioned that she loved watching waves because every one is unique, like Wilson Bentley’s snowflakes. You may only see each one ONCE in your lifetime, but you can be sure that they’ll keep coming. What a perfect illustration of how I’m choosing to comfort myself at this time, the beginning of the end in Shimane. I held tightly to that allegory throughout the weekend, so taking the time to consider it again on the rocks in Izumo, brought things further into perspective.
Throughout the day we ate great food, took silly photos and played my new favorite board game, “Sequence”, again a Janelle-ian stroke of genius. The company, surroundings and laughter were enough to cure my swollen throat (so let’s pretend that it did). That was the day I was supposed to run in a road race in Yoshika, but because of illness decided to pass. To read a great post about what I missed, check out Trixie’s blog (link to your right).
Something the Japanese do very well is organizing community events. On the National Holiday, “Showa Day” on Tuesday, I walked up a “mountain” in Gotsu with 3 teachers from Gotsu High School, another ALT and some children. The large hill is called Mt. Hoshitaka and has a large star landscaped into its side. The legend is that a meteor hit the mountain and formed the star. I wonder if it’s also the fault of the meteor that the star is lined with lights during the summer.
Joining the city-wide hike cost me a total of 100 yen, which got me a free towel and step-counter at the top. A 95 year old man hiked to the top and was presented a prize (sake and a towel). I won 7th place in the janken (rock, paper, scissors) women’s tournament, and won an Elementary School swim bag. That’s right, adults standing together, playing janken for prizes on the top of a mountain. Jan-ken-pon is what the World RPS (Rock, Paper, Scissors) Society blog calls a “cultural concept” in Japan. For more about Janken, look here.
Aside from being a Gotsu RPS Champion, the highlight of the day was playing “Dragonball” Battle and hide and freak with Keisuke and his sister Megumu. We spent the entire hike, both going up and down, playing games together. Yet again the journey proved to be just as, if not more satisfying than the destination.
Here’s another quick video of what went on: