Sunday, August 29, 2010

hello goodbye


My next blog was suppose to be about my trip back home to Hawaii, but I found it hard to write when there was something else weighing on my heart. Hello--what an interesting concept. It's a form of change that I tend to deal with much better than with goodbyes. And yet, should it not be just as scary? In a first meeting, impression, or interaction, you find yourself still in this state of vulnerability, where new ideas and experiences flow freely from one person to another. Fear of being judged or rejected can easily keep people from experiencing everything that a hello has to offer. Why then, is it so difficult for me to say goodbye at times? Should I not just be grateful for the hellos that started each amazing adventure in my life? What am I holding on to?

Coming into my second and final year as an ALT in the JET Programme, I often think of the inevitable goodbyes waiting for me at the end. Like a criminal making their way through the crowd towards the guillotine, I find myself thinking more and more about the sadness and heartbreak that awaits. With every pure moment I come across, whether it be sipping coffee in the teacher's room laughing with the staff or gazing at the stars from a friend's balcony at 2am, I find my heart feeling heavier and heavier, unable to fully appreciate the full significance of the moment for fear that someday it will cease to exist. A memory forgotten, a time that can only be revisited in my dreams where nothing's real.

It wasn't until recently that I realized how dangerous this way of thinking was; how such dark undertones could severely affect the second half of my JET career. This past weekend, we had a big JET beach party for the new incoming ALTs of Yamaguchi. It was a weekend full of hellos. I got to know a lot of new people, their backgrounds, their ways of thinking, their dreams and aspirations. It was a really refreshing experience for me, after having said goodbye to so many friends in July. And in these moments, I found myself revitalized as I was not thinking about the goodbyes that would someday be associated with each hello. Instead, I found myself excited for all the hundreds upon thousands of adventures waiting to be had, as though each hello was like a portal to a new world.

With this new mindset, I find myself looking forward to this new year: to the sleepovers at friends' houses, to the traveling across Japan, to the 6am train rides after a night out in Hiroshima, to the midnight 7-11 chuhai runs, to the situations that make my jaw drop and leave me with the words "Oh, Japan" to explain the ridiculousness of it all, to the moments where I stand in amazement that I'm actually living in Japan, and finally, to the day that I'll say my final farewell to Japan and it's amazing people, and thank it for an amazing and life-changing 2 years.

L to R: Brandon, me, Alice, and Michelle. Brandon&Michelle are awesome Oshima-mates :) Alice is the new beautiful Yanai JET.
Me w/the new Kudamatsu team: Steph and Kyle. I heart Steph's quirkiness and Kyle's genuineness.
Another eastsider, Nate...snow, cars, and wine...instant win ;)

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Mt. Fuji: The Agro Crag of Japan

Just arrived at Fuji train station, ready for some adventure!

As a child, I remember sitting on my living floor, staring up at the TV screen, and watching in amazement as participants of the Nickelodeon GUTs show raced up a massive mountain-like structure known as the "Agro Crag" while combatting falling styrofoam rocks and gusts of smoke. I never imagined that someday I, too, would be doing the same type of ascent, only my Agro Crag wasn't made of cushions and polystyrene foam. Nope, mine was comprised of volcanic rocks and blistering cold temperatures. Agro Crag, meet Mt. Fuji.

The Agro Crag and Mt. Fuji. Which would you choose to climb??

The top of Mt. Fuji is the highest peak of Japan, standing at 12,388 ft (3,776 m). Wikipedia tells me that about 200,000 people climb Mt. Fuji every year. A small climbing window exists during the months of July and Aug. Climbing during any other month is highly discouraged. We decided to embark on our Fuji adventure on Sun, July 18, 2010. The meeting place: Fujinomiya station. Of the 10 stops that make up the grueling ascent, buses take people to the midpoint 5th station for about 3,000 yen RT. There are 4 main climbing routes to the top on different sides of Mt. Fuji: Fujinomiya (the one we did), Kawaguchiko, Gotemba, and Subashiri. The Fujinomiya 5th station starts you at an elevation of about 7,874 ft.

Cyndi, Callie, and me at 5th station, 10pm.

My 2 adventure-mates included Ms. Callie Seymour of Shimonoseki and Ms. Cyndi Waite of Hikari. This would be our last HAZAH, as they were both returning home at the end of the month. We took the bus to 5th station, backpacks stuffed w/energy bars, water, and clothes, energy overflowing for the adventure ahead. After 2 hours of acclimating to our new altitude (about 10pm), we began the 4,514 ft (0.85 miles!) ascent to the top in high spirits.

I must admit, the view from Fuji was spectacular.

I won't lie to you, the climb was hard. I tried from the beginning to pace myself, stay hydrated, and give enough time to rest between stations. The path was roped off, so it was easy to manage. I also had on a headlamp freeing up my hands. Callie and I even bought the popular Fuji stick (from 7-11 hehe), a walking stick that you can get branded (like a cow) at each station. The higher you ascend, the more seals you'll get burned into your stick marking your progress. Each seal was about 200 yen ($2). I would definitely bring a walking stick with you, as it made my ascent and descent much easier.

Posing with my cool walking stick.

The hardest and longest part of the trip was between 6th station (8,169 ft) and new 7th station (9,120 ft). It took us about 1.5 hours to complete. The higher you go, the harder it is to breathe because less oxygen is available. Because of this, I would find myself taking 25 steps or so and then having to stop, bring my heart rate back down to normal, and just breathe. I was scared of getting altitude sickness because I heard once you reach that point, you need to start your descent back down. I had made quite a journey just to get to Mt. Fuji, and was not going to accept defeat. I was getting to the top no matter what. NO. MATTER. WHAT.

We made our way to 7th station (yeah, there are two 7th stations...weird) at 9,875 ft. The stations really are what keep you going. You can stock up on liquids, use the bathroom (costs about $1-$2 to use the toilets!), and take shelter at each. The higher you go, however, the more expensive things cost. Makes sense considering how difficult it is to transport goods up there. Most people start their ascent at about 5pm, reach 8th or 9th station, and then sleep there for a bit before continuing their climb to the top in time for the sunrise. But not Callie, Cyndi, and me. Nope. We were troopers. Some would call us "amazing," others would call us "idiots." We planned to do the whole hike in one night. Up in time for the sunrise and then back down in one swift motion. Sunrise was at 4:30/5am so time was our real enemy. And altitude sickness. And low blood glucose levels. And cold. Yeah, there were a lot of forces acting against us.

We had reached 8th station (10,662 ft). It was cold. I had layered clothing over the past couple hours. I now boasted 2 layers of pants, 4 layers of shirts, plus my snowboard pants and jacket. (We Hawaiians DO NOT like the cold!) I was tired. And hungry. And needed to pee. I was NOT in a good mood. But amidst my grumbling and unhappy spirit, I remember turning around to look at the spectacular surrounding nature. It was an incredible sight. Fuji's silhouette against the backdrop of city lights boasted its true grandeur. We were above the clouds, bringing me back to days of playing Super Mario World, leading Mario across the elevated pathway of clouds separating him from danger. I could see hikers just begining their climb at the bottom, flashlights and head lamps illuminating in the dark. Following the path up in single file, it looked like a necklace of lights ringing around Mt. Fuji. And the stars. It was as if God had made a gigantic cluster of stars just for Mt. Fuji to look at. I contemplated reaching out to see if I could actually touch one and bring it home, but fought the urge :)

We had just reached 9th station (11,351 ft) and it was already 4am. It looked as though sunrise at the top was no longer a realistic and attainable goal. We were tired. And hungry. I bought a small styrofoam bowl of udon for about 800 yen ($8 for a tiny bowl!). I was so cold, I didn't care about the cost. We commandeered a table inside the hut and sprawled ourselves on it. Cyndi wasn't feeling good and we had to figure plans out. To go or not to go? We had come all this way. We all took mini naps for a bit. All-nighter - what was I thinking!? My body was hating my decision and making damn sure I knew it. I vaguely remember waking up to Callie asking me if I wanted pictures of the sunrise. "Shhrr..." I murmured. I was seriously concerned whether continuing to the top was a good idea. We had about 3 hours more to go, and not to mention the 5 hour hike BACK DOWN.

A beautiful sunrise picture from 9th station, compliments of Ms. Callie.

After much debate, Callie and I decided to continue on to the top while Cyndi rested at the lodging facilities of 9th station. We had come too far to call it quits. Plus, I knew I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I turned back. And I'm all against regret. With this new found sense of determination, my body began doing something amazing: it started producing adrenaline. We made it to 9.5th station (11,778 ft) pretty quickly and before you knew it, the peak was in sight. A lot of people had started their descent back down, making it hard for us to continue at the pace we had began with since both the ascent and descent paths were the same. As inconvenient as it was, it felt like everyone on that mountain was tied by a common bond. People descending would lend words of encouragement to us like, "Keep it up!" and "You're almost there!" which was really cool.

6:00am. Callie and I make it to the top. The top of Mt. Fuji. MT FUJI!!! Thoughts? In this order: This is incredible. Wow, there are a lot of people here. A POST OFFICE!? I need to pee. There was a lot of activity at the top. People were taking pictures, getting their sticks stamped, buying stuff from the souvenir shop, eating food at the little shop, mailing post cards, and just basking in the accomplishment that is hiking Fuji. Callie and I did all of it, from ordering a 600 yen ($6) cup-o-noodle, to mailing postcards to our family.

The torii gate at the top of Mt. Fuji.

Callie and me at the TOP!!!

And thus began the descent back down. Start time: 6:30am. End time: 11:30am. It. was. hell. Although a lot easier since resting wasn't as big an issue anymore, the sun slowly stole away our energy, and fatigue from the all-nighter was beginning to take a toll on my body. We picked up Cyndi, who was feeling a lot better from a couple hours sleep, at 9th station and continued downwards. I didn't even think to bring sunscreen and was regretting it with every step. Somewhere along the way I had dropped my big 2L container of water and was now depending on what little water I had left in my water bottle that Callie and Cyndi had so graciously given me. Towards the end of the journey, I was scrupiously spending money on small 500 yen ($5) bottles of water just to stay alive. My head was now throbbing due to lack of sleep. My energy level was low, it was hot, and time had become an issue once again. We needed to make the 12:30pm bus so that I could make it to the airport in time for my flight back to Hawaii. Cyndi also had to make a night bus back for Yamaguchi. Oh how I regretted my decision to do this all just before my trip home. But it was too late for regrets, all we had to do was focus on getting to the bottom. And that we did.

I prayed, asking God to take away my headache. Come 6th station, Callie overhears a tourist couple passing around Tylenol, and they share some with me. MIRACLE! (Stores in Japan don't sell painkillers. You actually have to go to a hospital or pharmacy to buy them. So there would have been NO WAY of me getting rid of that headache without the help of those tourists!) Hope was back. We kept at it, sliding down the volcanic gravel, trying not to fall off the path. Finally, we came to the starting point, 5th station. I looked up to the peak of Mt. Fuji in disbelief that we had been there, just 5 hours earlier. It looked so much different from where I was standing now having climbed it. At first it was this massive, unconquerable beast of a mountain. The Agro Crag of Japan. And now it was...nope, it's still this massive, unconquerable beast of a mountain. "But Tiff," you may ask, "why do you still consider it unconquerable? You've done it once already." True, but I doubt I could ever do it again. And I don't think I'd ever want to. As the old proverb goes, "A wiseman climbs Fuji once, a fool twice."

Reaching the top was worth it. I really did feel like I was on top of the world.


For more info on the trails and background of Mt. Fuji, check out these helpful links!

Monday, August 9, 2010

Goodbyes, a time to reflect

**Gosh, has it really been over 2 months since I last touched this blog? So sad. I promise to do much better this upcoming year. So much has happened within that span of time, I think I'll break it up by major events. I'm at the BOE everyday this week, so expect LOTS of updating!**

L to R: Chris, Sarah, Isaac, Erin, me, and Al at our YES English Society farewell party

The JET Program works in 1-year intervals, allowing a participant to decide whether or not to recontract for a 2nd, 3rd, etc... year. Many of my close friends in the Guch decided to return back to their homes this summer. June and July was full of last dinners, packing dates, and goodbye parties. I have never been a big fan of goodbyes, but realize it's necessary and important role in my life. Change is an unavoidable force that often brings about hardships, but also growth. And you know me, I'm all for the growth.

The first day I met Whit, I was in tears because I had learned I would be staying at a hotel by myself away from everyone. She must have thought I was freaking CRAZY!

Reflecting back on my first year in Japan, I can see exactly how much growth I managed just living on my own in a foregin country. When I first arrived in Japan, I had never lived on my own before. Those first few weeks of washing dishes, taking out the trash, combatting BUGS in the apartment, and budgeting for food/bills/fun really did a number on me, but I got through. I remember sitting at my desk at the BOE, staring at the calendar on my desk, flipping through the months, and thinking, "How the heck am I gonna survive this?" Once I started visiting schools, participating in activities on my island during the week, and hanging out with friends on the weekends, the months just flew by.

Before you knew it, winter was here and the only place you'd find me was 5 inches away from a heater. Again, I remember sitting under my kotatsu in my living room, layers of blankets and clothing shielding me from the cold, heater just inches from my face, staring at a picture of Hawaii on my wall, and thinking, "How the heck am I gonna survive this?" (You see, we Hawaii people are a tropical species and HATE the cold...well, at least I do.) Once I started layering up my clothes, bought some snowboard gear, and started hitting the slopes, the months just flew by.

Whit and me at the Leaver's Party. Saying goodbye after a year of friendship is never easy.

Finally, after 6 months of COLD, spring came with all it's sakura beauty. And with it, hope. Hope that I really could survive and succeed in Japan. I think it was at this time that I truly reached a balance in my JET life. I had gotten into a good rhythm teaching at my schools, "working" at the BOE, seeing friends, and exploring Japan. But just as you reach this new level of acceptance and comfortability, God throws you a new set of challenges, and you find yourself saying goodbye to many friends that helped you along the way.

Seb and me on the shinkansen to Fukuoka where Seb was catching his airplane home :(

I had the greatest support system a 1st year JET could ever ask for. To say goodbye to such wonderful people was really difficult; however, I know it's a confirmation of the sincerity of our friendship. This past year was full of challenges and hardships for me personally, and these people pulled me out and saved me a lot of the time. I could enjoy their company, vent out my frustrations, sleep on their couch, cry in their arms, and discover Japan together with them. Yamaguchi did experience a great loss from them leaving, but I have no doubt in my mind that it will gain a lot with the new JETs coming in this summer. (And hopefully I can provide that sort of support system for the new JETs.)


Rather than sulk on my losses, I choose to rejoice in the memories of last year, and hopefully bring that positive energy with me through to this next year. Oh the adventures to be had!

The new JET year has arrived! BRING IT ON JAPAN! :)

Check out the short video I made for AJET! It recaps the 2009-2010 AJET/nonAJET events!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fC-ZIacMjM