The Matsue Chronicles

Updates

2009-11-27T21:17:00.003+09:00

So, as usual, I let life get in the way and the ol' blog falls by the wayside, but...

I do have a fairly valid reason.

I've started a new newspaper column in the big local paper here in Shimane.

The column is called "Kiddo Sensei no San-in Eigo Juku" or "Mr. Kidd's San-in English School", and it's a pretty cool deal.

Each week, I select a theme, and from Monday to Saturday, I introduce a key word or phrase related to that theme. I include a short explanation, and sometimes sneak in a little bit of information about the differences between Japanese and English.

Then, on Sunday, I write a 150-word English passage (in simple, junior high school level English) that uses those keywords and phrases to describe a facet of the San-in Region. You can find the articles I've written so far here.

Another cool thing? My articles are in the top weekly and monthly rankings on the site.

One more cool thing? This time, they asked me.

I've also been touring around a few temples in the Kansai area. If you're interested, here are some pictures.

Oi! Genki ka!? Article 8: Foreign Language Acquisition (July 2007)

2009-10-18T01:38:00.011+09:00

Foreign Language Acquisition

There was a lot of intense studying involved.

Very often in conversations, people will say to me, "Japanese is really difficult, isn't it? After all, there's hiragana, katakana, and kanji." (Note: this refers to the three types of characters used in written Japanese.) In truth, for someone like me who comes from a country that only uses characters based on the Latin alphabet, it wasn't easy to study Japanese. However, when it all comes down to it, Japanese is just another language. And like any other language, it has its easy parts and its hard parts. If you have the desire to learn and just put forth a reasonable effort to study, you can learn how to use it.

Since I started studying, I am now in my eleventh year of studying Japanese. Many people often ask me how I was able to pick up the Japanese language. From the first day of classes, I felt like it was something worthwhile for me to study, so whenever I had a free moment, I would use it to study or review Japanese. After we started learning the different characters used in Japanese writing, I would spend my breakfasts after class writing. I would eat cereal with one hand and write with the other. I had a really rough time figuring out the difference between characters like "nu", "me", "wa", "ne, "shi" and "tsu"...

...but with a lot of repetition in writing, I gradually figured out which character was which.

One thing our sensei told us really helped me with learning kanji, the Chinese characters used in Japan: "Learn the radicals." (Note: radicals are certain parts of each kanji At first, kanji only looked like pictures, but with our sensei's help, I was able to look at each character in parts, which made them so much easier to learn and remember.

When it came to learning the different characters used in Japanese, time and repetition helped me finally be able to write.

The real problem was speaking. My pronunciation had a strong American accent. Plus, all of the "ra" sounds (ra, ri, ru, re, ro, rya, ryu, ryo) and "fu", sounds which we don't have in English, really caused me a lot of trouble. I wanted to speak but I couldn't speak. I thought for a long time about what I could do to overcome this, and I finally came up with an answer.

Just get out there and use it.

It's natural to feel like "I don't understand", "I can't speak it", "I can't use it" when you start out in a foreign language. There is no way you can suddenly speak fluently in a language you've never even studied before. It's natural to feel that way, but you can't let yourself lose out to that kind of negative way of thinking. If you do, you'll never be able to use it, or speak it, or understand it.

I went to a university that had a lot of Japanese exchange students, so I was in a great environment to learn the language. I had a lot of opportunities outside of class to use what I'd learned. I made an effort to speak Japanese with exchange students I'd become friends with. Of course, at first my Japanese sucked and I was hardly able to say anything at all, but with my in-class studies at outside-of-class practice, I got to the point where I was able to communicate in Japanese.

There's one more question I often get asked: "What can I do to improve my English?" My answer is always the same:

Just get out there and use it.

If you have a chance to use it, then do so. If you don't have any chances, make some. You may not be good at first, but with time, you'll get better. I can say that from experience.

Oi! Genki ka!? Article 7: IPA (June 2007)

2009-10-18T01:19:00.001+09:00

IPA

At Japan Night with some of the 2000 Spring AUAP Group at CWU, probably in June.

The university I attended, Central Washington University, has a sister school relationship with Asia University in Tokyo, and every year many exchange students come from Asia University via an exchange program know as the Asia University America Program (AUAP). At five months, it is a fairly short stay, but the students that come to CWU study English and their respective majors while staying in the on-campus dormitories, sharing rooms with American roommates. I became friends with quite a few AUAP students, and while talking with them, I learned about what seemed to be an interesting part-time job: being an IPA.

What is an IPA? IPA is short for International Peer Advisor, and an IPA is a student attending CWU who helps the AUAP participants get accustomed to American university life and living in the U.S. The exchange students who come to CWU on AUAP don't know much about the university or the town that it's in (Ellensburg), so it is the IPA's responsibility to help them get acclimated to their new lifestyle as quickly as possible.

At the time, I was studying Japanese and had made many close friends through AUAP, and more than anything else, I wanted to know more about Japan. I figured being an IPA would be a good way to do that, so I went to the AUAP Office and applied for a job. After going through a short interview process, I got the job! Over the next year and a half, I worked as an IPA for three AUAP cycles, and did a lot of activities with the program participants during that time. We had Japanese food parties in the dormitories to promote exchange between the AUAP students and the American dorm residents. We went on camping trips and took part in volunteer activities. We made baseball teams and played in intramural leagues against other teams at the university.

And while there was a lot that was fun, being an IPA had an extremely tough side to it too. I had to work out difficulties between AUAP students and their roommates. At times, I wasn't able to get along well with the groups I was working with. Also, while the legal drinking age in Japan is 20, in the U.S. it is 21, and at times I caught underage students drinking and had to report them to my boss. It was extremely difficult to find a balance between being a friend and being an advisor.

I learned a very important lesson while working as an IPA. During my first cycle, a friend of mine, Rich, who had worked as an IPA previously pointed out, rather sternly, something that I was doing wrong. I thought I was being kind to the AUAP students by speaking in slow, simple English to them. Rich saw this and took me aside, saying, "What you're doing there, that's not being kind or nice or anything at all. You're being a jerk. They aren't stupid, so don't treat them like they are. Speaking slowly, or in simple English, isn't going to help them. Speak normally, like you would to anybody else." It was then that I realized that I'd been speaking in strange English to the AUAP students I was supposed to be helping. If our positions had been switched, I'd have hated that, and I really regretted my actions up to that point. I'd been acting like I was better than them; like I was above them somehow. And that was messed up.

Having that pointed out to me taught me a very important lesson. Even if someone isn't able to communicate well, they still need to be treated with the same respect afforded to all people. That's something I hope to keep in mind in my interactions with people from now on.

Updates!

2009-10-17T10:43:00.002+09:00

So...

It's been a month and a half since I've done anything worthwhile on this here blog.

I can make all sorts of excuses (friends came from Hokkaido for a week, busy with work, practicing to play the flute in a drum parade tomorrow, started teaching a class at the local junior college, went to Tokyo for a friend's wedding, different friend came from Tokyo, ad infinitum, ad nauseum), but what would be the point?

Hopefully I can get another chapter from my book up sometime today before I have to go to practice.

I do have some fairly big news that I should be able to share in the next couple of weeks. A few things need to get finalized before I can make an official announcemt though.

But if things go through like they should, this will be a pretty big freaking deal.

Stay tuned!

Oi! Genki Ka !? Article 6: Nelson Sensei (June 2007)

2009-08-31T21:24:00.007+09:00

Nelson Sensei
(Advisory: Some strong language contained within)

At Central Washington University's pre-graduation ceremony with Nelson Sensei. June 2000.

If you're fortunate enough to have a good teacher, it's possible to come to enjoy any subject in school. I've been blessed with great teachers ever since I started on my path of studying Japanese. I'd like to introduce one of them now.

September, 1996. My first day as a sophomore in college. My first class of the day. I got to the classroom before 9 and was waiting for our professor to show up. And show up he did. It was a very overwhelming impression. Built like a linebacker and sporting a full beard, even his outward appearance was intimidating, but it was when he opened his mouth and started speaking in perfectly fluent Japanese that he really floored me. This class was Beginning Japanese 101, so not a single person in the classroom had any idea what the heck he was saying. Twenty-five college students just sat there staring at him, mouths gaping, stunned.

This continued for about five minutes. He just kept talking, saying something in Japanese. Then he put his hands together in the time-out "T" sign and said "Hai, stoppu!", and switched over into English. "My name is Nelson, and I will be your Japanese instructor." Then he proceeded to tell us what he had just said in Japanese. "Japanese is not an easy language to learn. It is a long ways removed from English. But, if you're willing to put forth the effort and study hard, I guarantee that you'll be able to learn a lot."

Our first class ended with Nelson Sensei talking about Japanese and some of the things we would be doing in the class, but I had already decided that this was what I wanted to major in. In those first five minutes of class, all I could think was, "I have no clue what he is saying, but I want to be able to speak Japanese as well as he can!" Then, listening to Nelson Sensei as he talked to us, I could feel his passion for the Japanese language, and that really struck a cord with my own love of foreign languages. I felt that if I studied with this sensei, I'd be able to speak Japanese really well, too.

Soon after, I talked with Nelson Sensei and applied for a Japanese language major, and pushed myself every day to learn as much Japanese as I could. There were a lot of hang-ups along the way, but Nelson Sensei's easy-to-understand explanations helped me improve my skills by leaps and bounds.

Then, one day, as I was walking through the university campus, I ran in to Nelson Sensei. "Oh, Kiddo-kun! You're doing really well lately. You've got a good thing going here, and you've got a lot of skill, so don't fuck it up." Surprised, I quickly replied, "Yes sir!"

"Don't fuck it up."

I'd never been sworn at by a teacher before, so his words carried a lot of impact with them.

From that day on, I have carried Nelson Sensei's words with me, always trying to avoid betraying his faith in me, make full use of my abilities and not waste the opportunities I have been presented with. I hope I have lived up to his expectations.

Oi! Genki ka!? Article 5: On Turning 30 (June 2007)

2009-08-30T20:08:00.006+09:00

On Turning 30

I turn 30 this year. I'm a bit nervous about it...

This year, I'll officially become an ojisan.

The word ojisan in Japanese has various meanings. Depending on the Chinese characters used with the word, the meaning changes. There is:
1) the ojisan that refers to an older male sibling of one's parents (i.e. uncle);
2) the ojisan that refers to a younger male sibling of one's parents (again, i.e. uncle); and then there's
3) the ojisan that refers to an adult male that is of no direct blood relation (i.e. "some old dude").

All three can be read as "oji", and yet they're all a little different.

When I say that I'll officially become an ojisan this year, I mean it in two of these ways.

First off, this August my younger sister will have a baby. This will make me a genuine ojisan ("uncle"). Gaining another member of the family is always a happy occasion, so I'm really looking forward to it. But at the same time, it's a strange feeling to realize that my baby sister is going to become a mother. I knew it would happen someday, but having it actually happen makes me feel my age a bit.

Also, from a mental aspect, there's one more reason I feel like I'm becoming an ojisan: I'm turning 30 this year. Even last year, when I turned 29, nothing bothered me about my age, but as the big three-oh approaches I can feel the weight of the reality of that number bearing down on me. I know that there won't be any drastic change in my physical condition when I turn 30, and I also know that turning 30 isn't going to have any affect at all on the way I think about things or my lifestyle. It's just that I'm not quite ready to have that number that started with a "2" change to starting with a "3". Which, of course, doesn't matter, because whether I am ready or not that new number is on its way, but the days where I ask myself, "Is this really where I should be at right now in my life?" are becoming more and more frequent.

This is just an image I have, but I think that the ideal 30-year old man in modern-day society is expected to have a steady job/career, be married, and have some children, too. My parents don't ever directly say "Come back home!", but there is often a "You can come back home any time you want" in our conversations. Plus, the last time I went home, my grandmother asked me, "When are you getting married?", and it seems like most of my high school classmates have already gotten married. I'm not that far away from it, but the reality is that what I picture as "society's ideal" is something that I am not as near to as perhaps I should be.

But then my friends who are in their thirties tell me, "When you get to be around 30 years old, you tend to worry about stuff like that. That's just how it is." It's true that I have a lot of things on my mind lately, but they will eventually pass. I like the way I am now, and I enjoy the life that I'm living. Up to this point, I haven't lived my life according to anybody else's standards except my own. Starting with my parents, I have had a lot of assistance from many other people, but I've lived my life the way I've wanted to. Simply put, even when I become a 30 year-old ojisan, I'm going to keep on living my life the same way. It helped me enjoy a fulfilling twenties, so I hope that my thirties as an ojisan will be spent in a similarly fulfilling way.

Oi! Genki ka!? Article 4: Onsen (June 2007)

2009-08-28T18:11:00.005+09:00

Onsen: Hot Springs

I love hot springs.

Japan's hot springs are fantastic. There's a rich variety of types, and there are many different ways to enjoy them. I feel that Japan is truly blessed to have so many hot springs throughout the country. But, having said that, it doesn't mean that there aren't any hot springs in the US. When I was a child, my grandparents lived in town called Lava Hot Springs, which got its name from the fact that there was indeed a hot spring in the town. Still, even though there are hot springs in the US, the common practice of getting into a hot spring naked in Japan...well, it just doesn't work like that in the States. So the hot spring was turned into a city-run pool, and you could only get in if you were wearing a bathing suit. Which is something my family and I did often, and it's a fond memory I have of my childhood.

When I came to Japan, a Japanese friend of mine told me about Japanese hot springs. Let's just say I had an adverse reaction. I'm as big a fan of a nice hot bath as the next person, but I wouldn't be caught dead hopping into a warm bath with a bunch of other naked men. No thank you. However often I was invited, I always refused.

Then I experienced my first Japanese winter. Over here, it's a strangely damp cold, and the daily feeling of freezing straight down to the marrow gradually wore down my reluctance towards Japanese hot springs. I still put up a fight for a while, but finally, one day, a friend told me, "You look really tired lately. I'm taking you to Tamatsukuri Hot Springs (a famous local onsen near Matsue)," and as all my fight had been taken out of me by the cold cold cold of Matsue's winter, I said "Okay" and off we went.

It was with quite a bit of nervousness that I entered the bathing area, washed off, and then got in the bath...(In Japan, it is common practice, as everyone shares the bathwater even at home, to wash off and get clean before getting in the bath.)

"What the heck IS this!? This feels GREAT! What have I been doing this whole time!? Why didn't I decide to go to a hot spring sooner?" I verbally beat myself up for a while. Once you're in the bath itself, all the things that I was worried about turn out to be no big deal. The thing that had me worried the most, other people, ceased to be a problem the second I took off my glasses. I couldn't see anything, so I ceased to care. ("Out of sight, out of mind", anyone?) Even after I going back to my apartment, I was still warm! Which, I can assure you, was a feeling I had been very unfamiliar with all winter. I was so happy. At that moment, my addiction to onsen began.

Of course, even after getting over that first big hurdle, there are still a lot of things that have shocked me about hot springs over here. Dad's taking their daughters (preschool age) in to the changing room and into the bath; the cleaing ladies coming not only into the changing room, but into the bathing area as well; and then there was the time that I got into a mixed bath without knowing that it was one and then having no idea what was the proper "mixed bath" ettiquette...let's just say that the surprises kept on coming. Still, it's something you get used to if you keep going. I now enjoy everything about onsen over here. From the big hot springs hotels to the small local baths, I've seen them all, but I still plan on enjoying a nice hot bath while letting out an "Aahhhh, now that's some nice hot water" as I get in.

Oi! Genki ka!? Article 3: Preconceptions (June 2007)

2009-08-18T18:10:00.008+09:00

Preconceptions

Everybody has preconceptions. The bigger the group, the stronger your preconceptions get. Naturally, before I came over here, I had a few preconceptions about Japan. I'm pretty sure that the major images most people have of Japan are the huge metropolis of Tokyo and the traditional Japan represented by Kyoto. I know I had those impressions before I first came over. Still, I knew that whatever images I had before I came to Japan, what I expected was going to be absolutely different from the reality of life here, so I did my best to avoid any "Japan will be like THIS" thoughts when I came over. Not having many preconceptions made it easier to adjust to life over here. However, I remembered something my sensei told our Japanese class one day in university. "Commonly in Japan, people will say 'Please come over and visit us sometime.' If you actually go over to visit, though, often they will seem put off. This is the difference between honne ("what people really mean") and tatemae ("what people say to be polite")." That lesson stuck in my mind, and while it isn't wrong information, I never thought that merely believing this would lead me to make a big mistake over here.

One day, a friend of mine invited me out for sushi. At the sushi restaurant, there were only ourselves and a family at the other end of the counter. Before I knew it, we all hit it off and were having a lively conversation. When I mentioned that I was interested in Japanese culture, they told me "We run a butsudan ("Buddhist altar") shop near here, so come on over and visit us sometime. It'll be interesting for you to check out!" At the time I said, "Sure!", but everyone was drinking, and I remembered that lesson from college that I had filed away in the back of my mind, so I never went.

About three months after that, another friend of mine and I went to visit a temple in Matsue. His Japanese friend had offered to take us there, so we went. It was up in a higher area of town, and you could see Matsue Castle clearly from there. While I was talking to my friend's Japanese friend, she said, "I've always loved this temple. When I was a kid, my father used to take me here all the time."

"Really?", I asked. "What does your father do?"

"He runs a butsudan shop down in Tera-machi," she answered.

"No way," I thought to myself, and then I asked her, "About three months ago, did you and your family talk with a foreigner in a sushi shop in that area?"

She looked surprised and said, "Was that you? My dad's been waiting for you to come by ever since then!"

"I, I'm so sorry. I promise I'll head over there soon, so please tell that to your father along with my apologies."

That same week I went to their shop. I was warmly welcomed, and they took time to tell me a lot about things like butsudan and some of the different temples in Matsue. We quickly became good friends, and we still keep in touch to this very day. And to think, my preconception of Japan almost made me miss out on this wonderful friendship.

It's true that having preconceptions can't be helped, but I believe that there are a lot of things you can learn once you take the time to look past them.

Oi! Genki ka!? Article 2: How To Walk In Hokkaido In Winter (June 2007)

2009-08-17T17:25:00.010+09:00

How To Walk In Hokkaido In Winter

When someone asks you, "What do you think of when I say 'Hokkaido'?", I'm sure there are a lot of things that come to mind, like the majesty of its nature, the delicious food, the wide roads...but wouldn't you say that the number one impression that people have of Hokkaido is the snow-covered scenery? It doesn't even really need to be said, but winter in Hokkaido is VERY different from that in Shimane.

The winters I experienced in Shimane consisted mainly of mushy, damp snow, and even on the rare occasions that it did snow, it had usually melted by midday. Walking on snow like that was not hard or precarious at all; if I had to mention anything difficult about it, it would just be that my shoes would get wet from walking in all that slush.

The first winter I experienced in Hokkaido was one of heavy snowfall, which was rare for Muroran. With an impeccable sense of timing, my car broke down on me and I had to walk to work every day. It was snowing everyday, and the shovellers just couldn't keep up with it, and as more and more snow fell, people walked on it and packed it down until it was nice and hard. On top of that, just as people call the snow here konayuki ("powdered snow"), the snow is just like a fine powder. This dry, fine snow falls on top of the hard snow pack and creates the worst footing I've ever experienced. There is no friction or traction, and the three layers of shoe, powder snow, and packed snow come together in a perfect marriage to create an impossible pathway! Careful as you may be, if you step even a little bit incorrectly, you're going to slip and hurt yourself. The pain hits its peak once you get to the office. No sitting. Too painful.

Still, as time went on, my style of walking unconsciously changed. Maybe my self-preservation instinct finally started to work? Little things like choosing how to place my weight and where I would step next had to be changed or there was no way I was getting to work safely. Without even knowing it, I changed how I walked and was finally able to get to work without any problems.

During Golden Week last year (ed: late April-early May 2006), a friend of mine came up to visit from Tokyo, and she said told me that she wanted to go see Shiretoko. So we did. By this time, all of the snow in Muroran had naturally melted away, but in Shiretoko, even though it was May, there was still a lot of snow left. I walked on it without any trouble, but watching my friend walk along with severe trepidation, a light snapped on in my head. "Oh! My way of walking's changed! I've adapted to life in Hokkaido!"

Winter doesn't last forever, even in Hokkaido. The days pass by, it gradually gets warmer, the snow melts away, and your way of walking changes back to normal. Then, winter comes again, and at first, I slip and slide as I walk along. But then I remember "the other way to walk", and all my walking problems go away. Having to switch back and forth every year is a bit of a pain, but remembering "how to walk" is one of the things that makes life in Hokkaido interesting. It can be a bit of a thrill to pick up a method of walking that you can't learn from anyone else, so come on up and experience it sometime.

(Photo courtesy of Scott Lothes)

Oi! Genki ka!? Article 1: It's The Boonies! You Got a Problem With That? (June 2007)

2009-08-06T19:37:00.006+09:00

So...
I, like, wrote a book.
It actually started out as a series of newspaper articles in a local paper in Shimane, but once my 100-article column was finished, we decided to collect the articles into a book.

I've made promises to quite a few people that, as the original book is in Japanese, I would translate the articles at some point in time.

Well...

No time like the present.

So here we go.

It's the Boonies! You Got a Problem With That?

Starting in October 1998, I studied at Shimane University in a year-long exchange program. A little bit before I was going to go back home, my sensei told me, "There's a university magazine called Shimadai Tsushin, and I've been asked to find an exchange student to write an article for it. Would you be interested?" I was, so I wrote down my impressions of and feelings toward Shimane in an article. At that time, I had been reading a manga called "Doctor Slump", and I was a big fan. One of my favorite parts was whenever the sun would come out, it would say, "It's morning! You got a problem with that?", so I decided to adapt that line to the title of my article. I'd like to introduce a bit of what I wrote in that article. It's from 1999, so there may be some strange phrasings, but please enjoy reading it.

When it was decided that I'd be coming to Japan on a year-long exchange, my friends in Tokyo all laughed at me and said, "Huh? Shimane? Man, that is way out in the boonies!" Hearing that, I pictured Matsue as a place where there was absolutely nothing. My hometown in America is out in the middle of nowhere, and there's nothing there, so I pictured myself having a very tough time in Middle-of-Nowhere, Japan. However, when I arrived in Matsue, I was amazed at how big the city was. Compared to my hometown, it wasn't "The Boonies" at all! The building were tall, there were lots of stores..."Man, I'm in the big city", I thought.

The month of October, in places other than Shimane, is known as "Kannazuki", or "The Month of No Gods", but in Shimane, it's known as "Kamiarizuki", or "The Month of The Gods". That's because all of the myriad deities from all over the country gather at Izumo Taisha in Shimane at that time. So when talking to my friends in Tokyo, I'd laugh right back at them and say, "You know all of your big-city gods? They're all out here now. Ha ha ha ha ha!" And it's not just Kamiarizuki that's great about Shimane, either. Shimane is known as "The Land of Myths", and for me, who has been interested in mythology since I was little, this makes Shimane fascinating. The only original surviving castle in the entire San'in Region is located right here in Matsue. If shrines is your thing, there's Kamosu Shrine, Yaegaki Shrine, of course Izumo Taisha...just to name a few of the interesting shrines you can find in Shimane. Sometimes my friends tell me, "Man, you're a Shrine Freak," but the shrines in Shimane are peaceful and beautiful, and I really love going to them.

A representative characteristic of Shimane is that there is a lot of nature here. And yes, that does make Shimane a rural area, but that's not a bad thing. The ocean is clean, there are lots of mountains and forests, and it's a very relaxed placed, which is something else I like about living here. Plus, people in Shimane are very kind. Sometimes it's said that they are gloomy, but that just isn't the case. They will strike up conversations with you, help you find your way when you're lost, return a friendly greeting...that makes living here feel good.

So, why are the people in Shimane so kind? Why is there so much natural beauty here? Why are there so many historical buildings still standing in the area? There's just one reason. It's the boonies. You got a problem with that?

Fukkatsu!

2009-07-28T12:24:00.002+09:00

That basically means "I'm back!" in Japanese.

So here's what happened:

My computer broke down.
My internet connection was suspended.
My modem's connector was faulty.
Most of my photos were lost...from my hard drive, but I still had them on the original memory cards, so it's all good.

But now:

My computer is better...for the most part. (Still need Microsoft Office)
My internet connection has been reactivated.
My modem's connector was replaced.
I bought a seperate hard drive to store my photos in.

And now it's official:

I'M BACK.

Time to start writing again.

...And Then a Four-Day Wait

2009-05-29T18:09:00.019+09:00

Eleven years after first hearing about Horan Enya, I finally got to see it.

Four days later, I got to see it again.

But first, explanation, clarification, and a retraction.

In my previous post, I talked about the reason for the festival beginning as being problems with the construction of Matsue Castle. Apparently, this is not the case, and the actual reason is the one I had originally heard. Namely, that due to a prediction of a poor harvest, the first Matsudaira lord of Matsue Castle, Naomasa, started the festival as a prayer request for a good harvest. Also, it was originally held every ten years instead of every twelve.

Next, some clarification.

Horan Enya takes its name from the song that the rowers sing as they row, which, while it varies a bit between each of the five Godaiji (areas of Matsue that take part in the festival: Omizaki, Fukutomi, Oi, Yada, and Makata), goes a little something like this. (This links to a recording of a practice session by the Makata group in 1985 as posted on the Matsue City Horan Enya homepage.)

All of the boats used in the festival have the names of their respective areas on them, except one name has a slight adjustment. On the Makata boat, before the name Makata, the hiragana character "i" and the kanji "ichi" are both written, and both are used to represent Makata's place as the "number one" boat. "I" (pronounced "e") is the first letter/sound in the "Iroha" poem (which, as you can see in this article, is sometimes referred to as the Japanese ABC's), so it is used sometimes like we use the letter "a" in English to represent a primary position. "Ichi" is the kanji for the number one.

The reason for this is that one year, when the boat from the castle shrine was heading upriver, the weather was particularly bad, and it was in danger of capsizing. Along with being bad for the life expectancy of the rowers, it would have been particularly bad for the deity of the shrine to end up on the bottom of the river. Some fishermen from, you guessed it, Makata saw the difficulties the boat was having, rowed out, and brought them to safety. As an expression of gratitude, Makata has been granted lead boat status in Horan Enya from that point on, and the two characters tacked on before the word Makata represent that special status. (You can see them on Makata's festival wear as well. See the picture below.)

While the Horan Enya festival is known by the name Horan Enya, the official name of the festival is Jozan Inari Jinja Shikinen Shinkosai. Jozan Inari Jinja is the Shinto shrine near Matsue Castle where the whole deal starts out. Shikinen is a Shinto term that refers to a set period of time (in years) that passes until a festival is held again; in this case, twelve. Shinkosai is another Shinto term that refers to a festival where the deity of a shrine is moved from one place to another.

And since I have no idea how to translate the festival title into comprehensible English, let's just stick with Horan Enya.

Although I'll give you the official name anyway.

The next three words in that picture refer to the three parts of Horan Enya: Togyosai - from a term that refers to when a mikoshi heads out from the main shrine, Chunichisai - the "middle day festival" which happens (shockingly) on the middle day of the whole festival, and Kangyosai - from a term that refers to when a mikoshi returns to the shrine it set out from. Togyosai was in the last post, and I wasn't here for Kangyosai, so what's left?

Chunichisai.

After leaving from central Matsue on the day of Togyosai, the boats from the five areas land near Adakaya Shrine and the mikoshi from Jozan Inari Shrine is taken into the shrine grounds for a week.

The following Wednesday, which is midway through the festival, Chunichisai is held.

In the morning, the boats head out on the Iu River that flows next to Adakaya Shrine, and the singing, dancing and other performances from Togyosai are repeated on this much smaller river.

While it is a weekday, there are still plenty of people who come out to see it.

I gave up on seeing the morning portion of Chunichisai, since I had classes and I didn't want to take the entire day off. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing the afternoon portion more than anything.

In the afternoon, boats are loaded onto carts and paraded through the town streets near Adakaya Shrine, before finally arriving back at the shrine. Once there, each group makes an offertory performance to the shrine's deity. The appeal of the afternoon portion is that boats pass mere centimeters in front of you, you can get a much closer look at all of the people involved in the performances, and the impact of the whole thing is much more forceful than merely watching from the riverbank.

(Please don't think I say "merely" as though it's a bad thing. Trust me, there's more than enough impact "merely" watching from the riverbank.)

A coworker and I headed out after our morning classes were finished (no afternoon classes for either of us on Wednesdays) and made it there before the afternoon festivities started up.

I made it a goal of mine to get a photo of each area's happi (festival vest), as the designs were both colorful and unique.

Another goal while at Chunichisai was to get some photos of a student of mine who was performing the sword dance on the Makata area's boat.

I was successful.

General impressions?

I don't think I've had a smile on my face that big for that long in a long time.

The weather was nice, if a little hot, and here I was again, being able to be a part of something that I had wanted to do since I first heard about it all those years ago in that small classroom at Shimane University.

It's moments like those that make me realize that no matter what minor ups and downs I go through in my daily life, right now I'm where I need to be doing what I need to do.

Things felt right with the world.

It's also amazing to think of how well the traditions involved with this festival have been preserved. Twelve years may not seem THAT long, but a lot can happen in twelve years. The fact that the styles of dancing, the singing, the costumes, everything involved with this festival still continues on is just amazing. Some of these areas don't really even have enough people left to perform in the festival, so they have to call on relatives from other areas to come and help out. And practice for this festival starts a YEAR in advance.

It's just nice to see people dedicated to preserving a wonderful local tradition.

I've blabbed on enough, I think. Besides, words can't do justice to how incredible of an experience the Horan Enya Chunichisai was. I think I'll let my photos do the talking.

A final, peaceful shot after leaving the shrine.

Eleven Years In The Waiting

2009-05-27T22:36:00.001+09:00

October, 1998.

I am an exchange student at Shimane University, just starting out on a year-long exchange program.

One day in class, the professor mentions a festival held in Matsue known as Horan Enya.

It is famous nationwide as one of the three largest funashinji (boat festivals) in all of Japan.

People come from all over the country to see it.

"Wow," I think to myself. "That's a pretty cool deal. Right here in Matsue. I wonder when it happens."

The professor, with an uncanny sense of timing, says, "Horan Enya only happens once every twelve years, and the last time it was held was last year."

Pardon?

What was the point of even telling us about it then?

Build up my hopes just to bring them crashing down like so many sand castles...rassumfrassumriffumraffum

It's not like I'll ever get to see it.

---Ten Years Later---
("Lost" style)

April, 2008.

I moved back to Matsue, and I realized that Horan Enya, that very festival I missed out on so many years ago, was coming up again in a year.

The word "elation" doesn't even begin to describe how happy I was.

One more year...

---One Year Later---

Saturday, May 16, 2009 - Horan Enya Togyosai (Heading Out Festival)

I get up and head out the door to meet a couple of my students, so we can all go see the festival together.

How stoked am I at this point? I'm randomly shouting out "Woo-hoo!" at the top of my lungs as I pedal my bike down to the river. In a suit, no less, which will be explained in a minute.

The father of one of the students was taking part in the festival that day, and he was (so unbelievably fantastically wonderfully) generous enough to get us good (did I say good? I mean incredible, as in the original "I can't believe this is happening not-credible" meaning) seats to see the whole thing.

Let's put it another way: The festival staff asked us to move away from where we were because they weren't allowing people in that area. I explained that we had been told by one of the participants to stand where we were, and he asked, "Oh, so you're with the shrine?"

Not exactly, no, but explaining would be a pain, so..."Yes."

Our seats were here.

They were such good seats that other people were complaining to the festival staff.

"Why do they get to be down there?" type stuff.

This is Mr. Nishidai, the man who got us our seats.
He was very specific about me wearing a suit to the festival. "I know it's a bit more formal than you may like, but I want you to be able to watch the festival from as good a position as possible."

No worries there, sir.

So now for a little bit of festival background.

The story goes that four hundred years ago, when Lord Horio was building Matsue Castle, the northeastern side of the castle was unsteady and kept crumbling. So Lord Horio decides to have the priest of a local shrine come and bless the castle.

Unfortunately, said priest was OLD. Ancient-like. And he was not in any kind of decent enough physical shape to be able to make the trek from his shrine in Adakaya to Matsue Castle (which is a little over 15 kilometers by land). At this time, though, it was a lot easier to get around by boat in this area than by land. Either way, there was no way the priest was getting to the castle.

The Horan Enya route, missing a bit of the river.

Sooooooooooooo...

Lord Horio decided to bring the castle to the priest (in a manner of speaking).

He had a portable shrine (mikoshi) prepared, and had the deity of the Inari Shrine near the castle loaded into it (figuratively speaking), and then took a boat entourage on up the river to the shrine, where the priest performed a blessing. After spending a week at Adakaya Shrine, the procession headed back to the castle, blessed deity and all, and Matsue Castle was safely completed without any further problems.

This is apparently the Horan Enya #0 origin story. I've heard it told a few other ways (prayer offering to help the area overcome a famine), but this story seems to be the real deal.

As for why Horan Enya is held every twelve years? Well, my best guess is that it has something to do with the Chinese zodiac, which runs in a twelve-year cycle, and Horan Enya is held every Year of the Cow. (Again, this is only my guess.)

So my students and I arrived at the dock built for the mikoshi a little before 10 AM. Mr. Nishidai grabbed my camera and snapped a quick photo of the inside of the boat where the mikoshi would ride.

(Funny thing. Even though I knew that the festival had a connection to the Inari Shrine near the castle, and I love going to shrines over here, I thought it was merely a boat festival. Boy, do I feel dumb.)

We wait for a bit, with this huge mass of people pressing in from all around. The bridges over the Ohashi River were packed with people, more people than I have ever seen in Matsue ever.

Probably even more people than I have seen in my combined years in Shimane.

Lots. Crowds, masses, throngs. Hordes even.

Then, as 10:30 rolls around, the procession bearing the portable shrine. At least a hundred people (old men, little girls, demons...you name it) press into that little area by the dock, and slowly but surely board boats and head out on the river.

Once the mikoshi was on board, they headed out on the river.

And then came the boats.

All sorts of boats.

Big boats. Little boats. Boats loaded down with sake. Boats loaded down with politicians. Boats loaded down with reporters. Motorboats.

And then there were the big 5.

Omisaki.

Fukutomi.

Oi.

Yada.

and Makata.

By "the big 5", I mean the five areas of Matsue that get to send out a big decorated boat that has rowers and dancers and singing...they are five areas along the Ohashi River between Matsue Castle and Adakaya Shrine.

Oh, and no women are allowed to ride on these boats, so any people in these pictures that look like women, aren't.

Quick aside: The father of another of my students was the ondotori (rowing song singer) for the Fukutomi boat. I make my students write English diaries, and in hers, she wrote:

Yesterday I went to see Horan Enya. I am from Fukutomi, and my father is the ondotori for Fukutomi's boat. Horan Enya is very cool and interesting, and I wanted to join. But no women can ride on the boat. I thought, "I wanted to be born a man."

That made me a little sad after I read it.

So after all of the boats headed out and things got a little less crazy at the dock, something incredibly cool happened.

Mr. Nishidai, before the festival started, talked to the "captain" of one of the boats being used for ferrying people around, delivering meals to other boats, and other various things (but not actually part of Horan Enya), and set it up so that my two students and I could actually get out on the river and see the festival from there.

To be honest, I'd have been happy just trying to peek over somebody else's shoulders to get a small glimpse of the whole thing. I just wanted to be able to say that I had been there.

And yet, because of the kindness of one person, not only do I get to watch the most important part of the festival up close, I get to get out ON THE FREAKING RIVER and see things without having to fight any crowds at all. Let's just say I was on the verge of tears several times over from just being so darn happy.

And flabbergasted.

So I give you a few more Horan Enya pictures, taken from out on the river.

More pictures can be seen here.

(Hopefully the link works. If not, leave me a message in the comments.)

Next post will be about the second part of Horan Enya, but this is more than enough for today.

When?

2009-05-26T23:02:00.003+09:00

When does waiting become waiting too long?

At what point do you have to step back and say, "This is pointless."?

Is the act of waiting in and of itself pointless?

Or is there value to it?

Maybe it's time for me to pick myself up, dust myself off, and head on down the road again.

Because it's looking more and more like all this waiting is taking me nowhere fast.

Into the Aporkalypse

2009-05-21T12:20:00.002+09:00

I'm flying up to Tokyo in a couple of hours.

A very good friend of mine, one I've known since 1996, is getting married this weekend.

The swine flu, which last week broke out in the Kansai area (mainly Osaka and Kobe) has now had cases identified in the Greater Tokyo Metropolitan Area.

I will be in Chiba for the wedding, but it's right there next to Tokyo.

(Note: I've been really puzzled as to why they stopped referring to the "swine flu" as "swine flu" and started calling it "a new strain of the flu virus" over here. Probably a bunch of pissed-off pig farmers complained or something. Euphemisms are such funky things.)

Anyway, I'm going to dive right into the fray.

Oink oink.

Hat, Meet Ring

2009-04-19T11:48:00.002+09:00

I've complained about election season before, and the main reason for my disgust with the whole process is that while I have no right of suffrage over here, I get a big ol' heaping of noise pollution served up on my doorstep every weekend.

I like to sleep in when I get the chance, and I'm the polar opposite of a morning person.

And then those campaign cars come a'rollin' by.

Grrr.

The funny thing about those cars is that they only thing they're blaring out is gibberish. A whole big mess of "Thank you"s and "Vote For Me"s, but not a single word about what said candidate will actually DO once elected.

Probably because in most cases, the answer would be "Live off of your tax yen."

Ahh well.

Anyway, in reference to the title of the post, I threw my proverbial hat into the proverbial ring yesterday. Proverbially, of course.

Not that I decided to run for office or anything that fancy (although it has been brought up in conversation before). I went on the campaign trail.

Today is the election for the mayor and city council positions here in Matsue. The challenger to the incumbent mayor is none other than Dai Kawakami, one of the people responsible for hiring me to work at the school I currently teach at.

I was asked to give a short speech yesterday to warm up the crowd before his final campaign speech.

Those of you who know me can pretty well understand what I thought about this...

"Why the heck not?"

So, I went and gave a speech.

A lot of it had to do with the theme of change and connecting that to President Obama's campaign last year, especially in that I closed out my speech with a "Yes We Can" for full effect.

(Psst...don't tell anybody, but most of my speech was scripted out beforehand...as in "Here's what you're going to say.")

But that was cool because I agreed with most of it anyway, and the whole Obama thing was more for pumping up the crowd and playing off the fact that I'm American, so...no harm, no foul.

I guess we'll find out tomorrow whether Matsue's mayor for the next four years will be the guy I went and stumped for or not.

When The Higurashi Cry

2009-04-16T11:04:00.004+09:00

I have a feeling that a lot of my posts will switch between reflections on the past year and current or upcoming events, but then, that's always been how I write.

I'm a big proponent of stream of consciousness.

There's a certain type of cicada over here that's known as higurashi.

During the summer season in Shimane (and probably most of Japan, except for Hokkaido and maybe parts of northern Honshu), as the sun is starting to move toward the horizon and the temperature starts to make some vague effort to cool off half a degree or so, there comes a slightly sad yet hauntingly beautiful sound from out of the bamboo trees. This is the higurashi welcoming the evening.

I remember one day in June of last year, I had just finished work and was walking back to my car to drive home. The school is up on a hill, and on the way to the parking area, there's an area where you can look down into a small valley. The lighting that day was perfect; the valley was just so GREEN, greener than anything I've ever seen back home. Everything was still, and the heat had started to back off a bit, and that's when I heard the higurashi echoing out of the trees.

I remember thinking how damn happy I was to be standing right there at that moment. How everything finally felt RIGHT with the world. And it was the higurashis cries that made me realize that I was BACK. Three years I hand't heard them, and now there they were again, and I just remember standing on that spot, looking down on that small valley, and thinking, "I'm home."

While cicadas can be a bit of a nuisance at times, there's something to be said for hearing a higurashi cry come through your window on a sultry summer evening.

There may not be a whole lot to look forward to when it comes to summer in Shimane, but I know the next time I hear the higurashi cry, there will be a big smile on my face.

Reflections on Days Passed

2009-04-14T19:46:00.004+09:00

So it's been a year now since I moved back to Matsue from Hokkaido.

The story so far? Good on most fronts.

The truth of the matter is that I really would have preferred to stay in Shimane.

I suppose there was a lot of bitterness toward the whole situation that led to me having to leave Shimane in the first place. There had been discussions of me staying on in Izumo in a direct contract situation with the city, but once the job offer came up in Muroran, I was told "Good luck up there!"

So yeah, it wasn't exactly my first choice.

I had a couple of good friends come down from Muroran and visit me the other day, and after showing them around and introducing them to my friends and generally talking about how great life in Shimane is, one of them said:

"That's something that's always bothered me about you: If you loved living here so much, why did you choose to leave?"

A fair question, which deserved a fair answer. Who knows? Maybe at the time, I should have fought harder to have a chance to stay. But being told what I was told kind of feels like a sucker punch to the gut that knocks the wind out of you before knocking you right on your ass. I just didn't have the spirit left to fight for it.

Now with me being back online at home, I've been taking a look at some of my Muroran Chronicles posts, and there's some negativity that seeps through. I think at times I must have been more frustrated with myself than anything else.

But saying that...

While I may wish some things had turned out differently, I don't ever regret moving to Hokkaido.

I had some amazing experiences and met some incredible people while I was there, and those experiences and those friends are things I will cherish for my whole life. And most importantly, it's because of where I was that I'm where I am today.

You have to leave to be able to come back.

Sure, not everything is perfect. I wish I was taking home a little more each month. But I get by and still get to do a lot of the things I enjoy.

I'm officially a licensed teacher over here, and I've just been promoted to full-time teacher from "lecturer".

As a good friend of mine said the other day, "A shiny new raise would have been nice to go with the shiny new title."

Truer words have never been spoken.

My apartment's small, cold in the winter, hot in the summer, and I have to keep the dehumidifier on all year round, but it's home.

The love life is sad as always, but the bars in Matsue are nice, and one of them has Guinness on tap and a very nice fish-and-chips meal on the menu.

I've become quite adept at finding silver linings.

Time and distance can bring things into focus, and well, things all told are pretty good.

Time Passes By, But It'll Come Around Again

2009-04-13T01:03:00.000+09:00

I've been away from my blog for over a year.

Some stuff came up to keep me away from it.

Let's see:

1) Writing a book
2) Quitting my old job
3) Moving halfway across Japan...again
4) Starting my new one
5) Being sick and tired of writing from working on a book
6) Not having Internet access at home

Well, life's calmed down and I'm online again, so it's about time I got back to work.

Writing stuff, anyway.

No guarantees on how often this thing will be updated, but I'll be writing again.

Stop by anytime.