You mean I've been here for SIX MONTHS!?!?

Today marks exactly 6 months since I landed in this crazy land, scared out of my mind. Six months. Half a year. 1/200th of a century. This is the longest stretch of time I've been away from home, and I'm so excited to be going back, if only for 3 weeks.

I won another Light Fellowship for the spring semester, and after a lot of soul-searching, I decided to stay. In addition to the malaise I was feeling, detailed in my previous post, what kept me reluctant to stay was the fact that I wouldn't be able to graduate with the class of 2013. It's sad thinking I won't be able to graduate with my closest friends, but I know years from now that won't really matter--I'll always be a Yalie. Plus, being able to say that you've spent a year in Japan packs more punch than just 6 months, don't ya think?

And now, a look back at the past couple months through pictures.

I traveled to Tokyo over the November break where I reunited with some of the Sun Academy buddies!


Aaaaand my always lovely host family! I invited Genevieve along, my friend from Nanzan, to experience their adorable wackiness.


It was bittersweet being back in Tokyo. Sweet because Tokyo is Tokyo ('nuff said), and it was a welcome break from Nagoya, but bitter because I'll always associate it with my Sun Academy friends. I'll probably never be able to experience Tokyo with such a cool group of people again, but such is life. What's done is done. One can't dwell on the past.

Oh, funny story. I was sitting at Hachiko in Shibuya one night, with Genevieve and my other friend Jo, just people-watching, when we were approached by a man who asked us in English if we liked to eat and drink. Ummmm...haha. He had to feed us a better line if he wanted us to come to his restaurant. We politely declined his offer. A while later, overcome by boredom, I called him over and asked if he had some part-time openings (don't ask me why). And so we all got to talking. The man, Lee-san, was a Chinese immigrant who owns a couple of restaurants in Tokyo. Pretty soon, we found ourselves warily following him through the busy streets of Shibuya to his restaurant. How did we know he wasn't going to lead us to an alley, kill us, chop us up to pieces, and put us on his restaurant menu? We were in for surprise (and not the kind that involves murder). We descended a flight of stairs that led us to one of the nicest restaurants I've gone to since I've been in Japan. He treated us to not only a 2-hour nomihodai (you should know this word by now...hint: all-you-can-drink), but also yakiniku (grilled meat)--FREE OF CHARGE. We were blown away by his kindness and still wonder how we got so lucky. It must be our gaijin power. It always is. If this story isn't funny enough, I ran into him the very next day at Ikebukuro Station. They say Tokyo is the biggest city in the world--LIES!


Just another night at Torinosuke, the closest izakaya to my dorm. My friends and I always say we're sick of the place because we go there so much, but we all know that we secretly love it.


During my dorm's stay at a ryokan!


The pitiful, overpriced Thanksgiving meal I had at an American-style sports bar and grill. At least it looks like the real thing...


I traveled to Osaka for a night to see one of my favorite bands, Friendly Fires, live. I had 2 presentations the next day, but it was sosososo worth it!


Subway trains are the best places for impromptu photoshoots.


That is not my hand. But why is it so close to my camera?!?! Last train madness, one of the reasons why I prefer to STAY OUT ALL NIGHT WOOOOOOO


At a nomikai (drinking party) with my IJ600 classmates!


Just 'cause.


Until next year, Japan!

女心と秋の空

"A woman's heart and autumn weather."

I came across this quote while reading for one of my classes. Both a woman's heart and autumn weather are fickle, prone to change easily, especially when it comes to love. I can say that this phrase aptly describes my experience in Japan. No, not just the weather, though the persisting over-70 degree temperature has thrown this girl, who's grown up in New England and is used to the seasons changing like clockwork, for a loop. I hate to admit that the fear that's been lingering in the back of my mind has finally come to light.

Yes, the honeymoon is over. Japan has--dare I say it?--become stale.

No longer do its quirks fascinate me; instead, they've become horribly annoying. The lack of trash cans ("You mean I have to carry this smelly thing around in my bag!?!"), the amount of Japanese girls in absurdly high heels (Just stop.), the constant squealing of "Heeee!" or "mAji dEeEeeeeE??" or "Sugoiiiii!" (At least one half of all conversations consist of such.) I could go on, but for brevity's sake, I won't.

I guess what attracted me to Nanzan is what irks me the most. Yes, the campus is swarming with Japanese people my age. Hundreds of potential friends, right? The truth is, only a small percentage of those seem eager to mix with us gaijin. And within that small percentage, I think it's safe to say that most of them--girls--are looking for gaijin boyfriends. The first couple of weeks were filled with events welcoming the international students. International Friendship Club, Coffee Hour, English Speaking Society. No matter what name they go by, such groups are exclusively girls. I've only gone to one of these events (if you've been to one, you've been to all of them), and counted only 2 Japanese guys in attendance, The guys here are just so shy it's not even funny. I kind of want to sit at a table full of guys in the dining hall and see if they actually do explode from the shock of not only a gaijin sitting with them, not only a black gaijin sitting with them, but a black gaijin who's a GIRL sitting with them. I wouldn't be surprised if my theory is proven correct.

The reason I'm so eager to make friends with a more diverse group of Japanese people, ok Japanese guys, is not to snag myself a hot Japanese guy, but just for more Japanese practice. I hate to say it, but there have been some days where I've forgotten that I'm in this crazy land called Japan. It's so easy to shut yourself in the dorm and do things you could easily be doing back home and forget that you're NOT in a country where those few Japanese people you see are not merely decoration, but the majority. While hanging out with the other international students is fun, the fact that I'm using English most of the time is bad news for my Japanese.

My Japanese ability has decayed, simply from lack of use. I suppose I should talk about academics now. I had hoped to place into IJ600, the highest level of Japanese offered this semester, but ended up in IJ500. I was disappointed, especially because my classmates from Sun, Ohta and Rewon, placed into IJ600. That only cemented my determination to place into 600. After taking another test, Okada-sensei, one of the IJ600 teachers, said I had passed, but just barely ("girigiri"). She said if I had entered I would be one of the weakest in the class. I had come out of the summer being able to conduct a conversation with ease and confidence, but was reduced to sputtering and choking at the simplest utterance. I was at my lowest after my first day in the 600 class. A lot of people have been studying Japanese for years, compared to my 2, and are nearly fluent as a result.

I was so intimidated that I hardly talked in class for the first couple of weeks. It's only now that I've gotten comfortable enough to voluntarily offer an opinion. Though, this fragile confidence was only shaken on Monday. Okada-sensei held an appointment with me, because it was the halfway point of the semester. She made me aware of the fact that I hardly incorporate complicated patterns when I speak. I've realized that it has to do with the fundamental way I learn Japanese. There's a difference between reading/listening something and understanding the basic meaning and reading/listening something and actually internalizing how it's constructed. She gave me some tips and I'm determined to follow them.

It's crazy to think the semester is halfway over. I've been trying to do things that get me outside the Nanzan bubble. When I'm bored, I think about home, and when I think about home, I get sad, which is definitely not good. I got a job teaching a bunch of 2-year-olds English. When I say teach, I mean sing and dance and read them stories. It's only an hour a week, but it's an activity that gets me out of the bubble, and that's good enough for me. It wouldn't hurt to make more of an effort, be it exploring a new part of town or making more plans with my Japanese friends.

I'm back in Tokyo for the 6-day vacation. Coming here fills me with that warm, fuzzy feeling of nostalgia. It's funny how I happy I felt hearing the nasal but familiar voice of the announcer as I rode the Oedo line. I can't wait to see the buddies and my host family. Though it's bittersweet at times being back because I think about my Sun Academy classmates as I walk by a familiar place. I'm so tempted to resent Nagoya, simply because I'm not having as much fun there as I did in Tokyo, but I've realized that the people that you're with is a large part of what makes any experience.

I hope my time here will rejuvenate me and allow me to return to Nagoya with more energy to get out of this funk.

No blog post is complete without pictures!


During my first weekend out in Nagoya. Ohta and I were at an izakaya, and saw a fish in the tank. We were overcome with the urge to eat it, so we ordered it. Here's the poor fish getting cut =[ But it was yummy!


View from my dorm room.


One of the arrangements from my ikebana class. Who knew playing with flowers could be so relaxing?


In da club.


At the Nagoya Matsuri.


At the Halloween party my dorm hosted. I threw on the Ghanaian flag I conveniently brought with me and called myself "Princess Ghana" haha.

大人になる旅：Week 2

I've just endured my first week of classes at Nanzan. Though summer might really be over (though the temperature outside may beg to differ), I'm going to use this space to hold onto it just a bit longer.

I left Sendai early to catch the shinkansen to Fukuoka, which is the biggest city on Kyushu, the southernmost of Japan's four main islands. I noticed that as I traveled further south, the people got tanner. I arrived at the hostel around 5:30 in the evening, and thought to explore the city a bit, but I was feeling lazy. Plus it started raining really hard, so I gave up that idea.

Next morning, I was up early for my day trip to Nagasaki. While I'm always initially nervous as I get off the train and emerge into a new, unknown city, that fear quickly fades when I remember I can always ask the locals for help, which I've now grown used to doing. I'd never realized the kindness of the Japanese people, the go-out-of-their-way sort of kindness. For example, the day before in Fukuoka, I'd gotten lost on my way to finding my hostel, so I asked a young lady. She didn't know, so I walked on. About a minute later, though, she ran up to me, magically procured a map, and pointed me in the right direction. I was happy to find that this sort of kindness wasn't restricted to Fukuoka.

Before starting my day of sightseeing in Nagasaki, I wanted to stop by the post office, but naturally I got lost. I asked this nice-looking middle-aged man, who walked with me all the way to an intersection near the post office. Though it was only a four-minute walk, I find out a lot about him. I asked him if he liked Nagasaki, to which he responded that it was "convenient," whatever that meant.

After leaving the post office, I set off to do finally do some sightseeing, but my inability to read maps kind of makes things difficult, just a little. I asked a young guy in a suit standing outside the post office, looking at his phone where Fukusai-ji Kannon was. I'd thought it was a well-known sight since it was in my Lonely Planet (which was like my guardian angel during my trip), but he apologetically said he never heard of it, so I walked on. A couple of minutes later, to my immense surprise, he suddenly appeared right in front of me, out of breath. He had run to catch up to me! He then called someone on his phone to ask where Fukusai-ji Kannon was. He walked with me up this steep hill, and after checking where it was with a person on the street, was about to walk with me all the way, but I stopped him. I was still in awe that he would go through all that trouble that I didn't know a proper way to thank him. So I just asked him for his name, which I've since forgotten...oops, BUT STILL, I was oh-so-grateful.

Fukusai-ji Kannon is a temple featuring the majestic statue of the goddess Kannon riding an astral turtle. The place seemed to be completely empty, which only added to its mystical atmosphere.



Upon seeing this little statue of Kannon holding a baby, I couldn't help but think of the image of the Madonna holding baby Jesus. Turns out, as I found out later that day, Kakure Christians (Japanese Christians who had to worship in secret during the Edo period) used to pray to such statues precisely because of that resemblance.



Inside the temple.


This is the bell that rings daily at 11:02 a.m., marking the exact time the atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki in 1945.


I visited the 26 martyrs statue, which memorializes six Spanish missionaries and twenty Japanese Christians who were crucified in 1592. The youngest were only 12 and 13. I spent quite a bit of time at the museum which focused on the long and bloody history of Christianity in Japan, something I'd like to learn more about.


I stopped to enjoy Nagasaki's specialty chanpon ramen before continuing on. So colorful!


For the rest of the day, I explored the Peace Park and Atomic Bomb Museum, awestruck that the city I was now walking in was almost completely destroyed 66 years ago.

The Peace Statue.

The peace statue, whose right hand points to the atomic bomb, but whose left hand extends toward eternal peace.


The hypocenter, the exact point the bomb was dropped.


"Peace is the best!" Simple yet true.

Before I visited, I would automatically think of the A-bomb when I heard Nagasaki. I was delighted to discover that it was actually a city full of history, even before it endured that horrible tragedy.

I was pretty tired when I arrived back in Fukuoka, but something told me not to call it a day just yet. So I changed course and found myself on the subway with no set plan except for the vague idea of finding something to eat.



I was walking through this park, admiring the pier when a middle-aged man riding a bicycle going the opposite way said something incoherent to me. When I looked back, I saw that he had almost crashed into the railing of the bridge. He was okay, and asked if it was okay if we chatted a little. After my experience with Hashimoto-san in Sendai, I agreed. He took me out to eat delicious tonkotsu ramen and to a cafe afterward.

Matsuoka-san is a guy in his 40s who fishes for a living. He spends a lot of time in Korea as well, so he rents a weekly mansion in Fukuoka. He's single now, but was married for 15 years. His fight with prostrate cancer left him unable to have sex, which is a big reason why his wife divorced him. He's healthy now, which means he can go to those sleazy-looking sex shops that are so abundant in Japan at least 2 times a month. Yes, this sounds creepy, and you're probably thinking, "OMG RUU-CHAN WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ACCOMPANYING ALL THESE CREEPERS?" If I were in America, I probably would have run right out of that potentially dangerous situation. But I treated this little outing as an opportunity to brighten up a lonely guy's evening. Plus, it was good Japanese practice. Who could argue with that?

Matsuoka-san gave me 100yen, enough to take the bus back to the station, and his umbrella, even though I told him I had one already. My host parents have dubbed me an ojikiraa, short for ojisankiraa which roughly translates to "killer of middle-aged men." Apparently, I have this power over them...

I didn't do much the next day, except go to Fukuoka Tower and enjoy the view.


Next stop was Hiroshima! Despite its tragic past, like Nagasaki, Hiroshima is a thriving city.

I visited the A-bomb Dome, one of the few buildings left standing from that fateful day.


Nearby was the Children's Peace Monument. It features Sadako Sasaki, who was only two years old when the bomb dropped but died from leukemia ("atom bomb disease") when she was twelve. While in the hospital, Sadako was determined to fold a thousand paper cranes because of the Japanese legend that promised that one's wish would come true. She folded them until she died. I remember this story resonating with me after reading a book about her when I was seven. I could have never imagined I would be visiting her monument years later in the city where she lived and died.



That evening, I visited the famous Itsukushima Shrine on the nearby island of Miyajima. It's one of the "three most scenic places" in Japan (one of the others is my beloved Matsushima).


Back in Hiroshima, I hung out with Matsui-kun, a 40-year-old otaku I met in front of a conbini. He was, um, interesting, and, uh, just a tad bit creepy. Once again, good Japanese practice!

The next day: Kyoto! I gotta say, after only an hour after being there, I couldn't say I felt the love. I get stared at wherever I go in Japan, but these stares weren't the curious stares I was used to, but rather quite cold. I've heard that the people in Kyoto can be quite exclusive. Meh. It didn't help that I got felt up on a bus by a creepy old man the first day. Ew.

Kinkakuji, the famous gold temple.


I walked part of the trail of torii gates at Fushimi Inari Shrine. There were thousands of them!



Aaaaand that was it for Kyoto. Although I spent three days there, I know I didn't even begin to scratch the surface in terms of Kyoto sightseeing. It's supposed to be Japan's pride and joy because of all its history and beauty and all that good stuff, but I must admit, I'm not really a temple/shrine person. They all look the same to me. I'm usually left thinking, "That's it?" Sorry! Despite my lack of enthusiasm, I'm glad I went--because it would have been a mortal sin if I didn't. The most exciting thing that happened while I was there was that I spotted a real-life geisha.

I spent a pleasant afternoon strolling through Nara, trying not to get harassed by the deer that roam freely through the park. One of them got into my bag and ate my map!




The five-storied pagoda at Kofuku-ji.


I traveled to Osaka that evening, hoping to sample some of its famed cuisine, but ended up at a bar, instead? Yeah, I don't know how that happened either. I did get to meet some nice people!


I also made friends with the bartender, who wants to be in a boy band. Yeah, I don't think he'll have any problem with that...

So that's it! My two-week journey throughout Japan. I didn't think I could do it. When I returned to Tokyo to visit my host parents before heading to Nagoya, they told me there was something different about me. Now, I was more proactive and more of a go-getter. Almost a month later, I still feel the same way. Fourteen days may not seem like a while, but they seemed like a lifetime to me while I was traveling. Yes, there were some lonely times, times I wished I could be with family and friends, people with whom I could share my experiences. But it wouldn't have been the same. I needed to do this for myself, to become more independent. I don't think I can fully express how valuable this trip was. I visited some pretty beautiful places, places that many Japanese people can't say they've been to; met a lot of nice people; and sampled the wonderfully varied cuisine of Japan Most importantly, I came out of the trip with a stronger sense of self. If I could travel hundreds of miles by myself, finding my way through unknown places and connecting with strangers, I feel like I can conquer anything. Really. This is the first time I can say that honestly. I don't think I can fully express how much I'll treasure those two weeks. I did more growing up during that period than I have in my life.

I've become an adult. 大人になった。

大人になる旅：Week 1

With a backpack (and a couple of bags...I'm not very good at packing -_-) and my JR pass, I embarked on my 2-week solo journey across Japan. To be honest, I don't think I would have been brave enough to do such a thing voluntarily. But since I had 3 weeks to kill before I moved to Nagoya, and couldn't fly home, I was kinda forced to. Just a tad bit.

My host mom dubbed it the 大人になる旅, which translates to "The trip where I become an adult" but that doesn't sound as cool in English as it does in Japanese, so I'm calling it "The Ru-chan grows up trip!" I really did need to do something like this. I think I rely on people too much and haven't developed a strong sense of independence and self-reliance yet, so I was looking forward to all the different things I'd experience by myself. It was a challenge, but I was ready.

As my time in Tokyo wound down, I tried countless times to plan out my itinerary, or at least draw up a list of things I wanted to see, but this proved all too overwhelming for my lazy self. The day before I was to move out of my host family's house, I decided to start off at the top--no literally, the top, Japan's northernmost island--Hokkaido!

Though the near-constant rain dampened my opinion of it, Sapporo is a nice city. It was the first city I'd traveled to besides my beloved Tokyo, so I couldn't help but compare the two. The first thing I noticed was how much less crowded the subway station was. It depressed me a little. Where was everyone!?!

I walked by the Sapporo TV tower, which was meh.


I visited the Sapporo Beer Museum, where I learned about beer!


I walked through Susukino, supposedly the largest entertainment district north of Tokyo. I only saw it during the daytime, but its sleaziness reminded me of Shinjuku's Kabukicho.

From Sapporo, I made a day trip to Hakodate, stopping at Onuma Quasi-National Park (haha not too sure why it's a "quasi" national park) on the way.


Like the good Catholic girl that I am, I visited one of the oldest Catholic churches in Japan, but it was closed for the day unfortunately.


I did get to say hi to the Virgin Mary, though!


Then I made the trip up to Mt. Hakodate to see one of the so-called three best nightviews in Japan. 'twas beeeyootiful.



Though I didn't get to see close to all of Hakodate, I did get a feel for the small city, and it's weird to think I could have spent my summer there instead of Tokyo. What with all the confusion concerning the 3/11 earthquake, tsunami, and subsequent nuclear disaster, I wasn't sure Sun Academy would still be going on, so I accepted HIF's offer of admission. While it's a nice little city (but bigger than I'd imagined), I think I would have felt suffocated if I were there for 2 months.

I did have a scare earlier that morning when I thought I'd lost my JR Pass. I haven't yet explained the wonders of that little pass, but it allowed me unlimited access to all JR services, which meant I could ride the shinkansen (those can cost you like 100 bucks) for freee. It was worth the ~$450. Without it, I would have been stranded, well not really, but it would have been expeeeensive traveling back to Tokyo.

I told the lady in charge of the hostel I was staying at about my dilemma, and she called the police. I witnessed firsthand the efficiency of Japan's lost and found system. They ask you for all your information and keep records of everything lost in Japan. It really amaaaazing. But I was so so so luckily because I found my pass lodged in one of my little notebooks. よかった！

From Sapporo, I traveled to Sendai. Even though it was pretty close to the epicenter of the earthquake, I couldn't tell. Everything seemed pretty normal. There were a lot of volunteers staying at the guesthouse at which I stayed, helping with tsunami relief in nearby harder-hit towns. though. But it's a nice mid-sized city that doesn't get enough credit, I think. It's not too big, nor too small, and has enough of the traditional clubs and bars and restaurants to keep one entertained. Plus, there's beautiful nature nearby, something Tokyo lacks (BUTISTILLLOVEYOUTOKYO).

I traveled to Matsushima Bay, famous for the pine-covered islands that dot the seascape. It's also"one of blahablah in Japan." I don't know much about sightseeing in Japan, but this was the one place I was the most excited to see. It's famous because the 17th century poet Matsuo Basho was rendered speechless by the beauty he witnessed, simply writing: "Matsushima, ah!/A-ah, Matsushima, ah! Matsushima, ah!" It's also one of the "Three Views of Japan." Unfortunately, some of the islands sustained damage from the 3/11 earthquake and tsunami, but for the most part, it was still breathtaking.

I crossed the long red bridge to Fukuura-jima, one of the islands open to the public. There happened to be an earthquake as I was walking the trails, the biggest I've experienced since I've been here. Shortly after, a woman's voice blasted from some loudspeaker, talking about a tsunami but I didn't really understand since it was all in Japanese. I checked with these 2 ladies, who told me it was okay to still be on the island. So I returned to my quiet little hike, but noticed that the island had completely emptied. As I made my way back to the bridge, I saw a lady hurriedly walking across it, the lady from whom I'd bought an ice cream cone before crossing the bridge. She said that they had evacuated the island because of a tsunami warning. It was a bit alarming, but it was all for naught.

I visited the nearby Zuiganji, a Buddhist temple, before heading back to the train station.





Trains coming in from Sendai were stopped and people boarded buses to get to their destinations instead. I was lucky because I was able to get back to Sendai without a hitch, if not a little late, but it was interesting to see how emergency procedures go and what precautions people take in during a tsunami warning.

After all that excitement, I'd worked up an appetite for none other than french fries; not the skinny McDonald's fries, but some big steakhouse fries. I let my stomach guide me through the streets of Sendai, hoping to find some semblance of a burger restaurant. I stumbled upon a little burger bar that was completely empty. Apparently it was famous because there were pictures of all these famous golf players (that naturally I'd never heard of). But I got my fries and a burger, so I was content. A middle-aged man walked in and ordered scotch on the rocks and we became friends.

Hashimoto-san is a 58-year-old man born and raised in Tokyo, but moved to Sendai because of his work, which is friggin' awesome: he works as a game engineer for Sega! I asked if worked on Sonic the Hedgehog, but he works on hardware (still cool!). He seemed like a jolly and harmless guy, so I accompanied him to a nearby club he frequents.

Let me just say this was one of the weirdest experiences of my life. It felt like I was transported to a different era. Imagine a club that plays nothing but American songs from the 1950s/60s, full of people over 30 years old. And drunk salarymen doing the twist. When the band came on, Hashimoto-san was the first one on the dancefloor.


That's Hashimoto-san right there in the striped white shirt.

I had to work really really hard to stifle my laughter, because the Japanese band, truly dressed the part, sang in entirely unintelligible English (they get an A for effort, though!); and all these Japanese people doing the twist and other oldies dances.


It was...surreal. From my almost 3 months in Tokyo, I've learned that the "all Japanese people are serious" stereotype is indeed false. Hashimoto-san convinced me to dance by saying that no one will remember the next day so we did the twist and slow danced to "Unchained Melody." It was undoubtedly a weird experience, but Hashimoto-san said he wanted me to have good memories of Sendai and said the next time I was in Sendai, I should drop by the burger bar. After that, erm, interesting night? Definitely.

"大人になる旅：Week 2" coming soooooon.