This travel log is a collection of correspondence to my family and friends during my fellowship stay in Japan during the summer of 1995.
Konnichiwa!
I arrived in Japan, safe and sound with minimal difficulties. After a brief wait in line, immigration took only about three minutes. All of my luggage arrived in good shape and I was not required to open a single piece through customs -- all I had to do was make an oral declaration. The Japanese hosts had people waiting at all points to guide us to our first week's living facility, GUAS (the Graduate University for Advanced Studies). The living facilities are around two months old and thus extremely nice. I originally thought the rooms had heaters which were mislabeled as air-conditioners but as of today (Wednesday), the air conditioners seem to have spontaneously begun to work.
A formal reception was held on Monday evening, after a day of language classes. A large and extravagant buffet was graciously provided -- sushi, sashimi (raw fish), crab, lobster, "killer" beef (meaning it was very, very good), shrimp, small fish and large fish, and too many other things to mention. I have left all my hesitations regarding trying new things in Wyoming which is good otherwise I would starve. I tried each of the raw fish provided and some were outstandingly tasteful. I also ate shrimp -- head, shell, tail and all. The shrimp were quite small making this feasible, but they were quite crunchy nonetheless. I was also privileged to try various Japanese beers and, of course, Sake. Sake is a bit dangerous since it is very light tasting (it is difficult to tell it has alcohol in it) and thus you can easily over indulge (I'll leave it as a mystery as to whether this fact came by experience or not...). The reception also had a host of highly positioned Japanese whom I have a very difficult time remembering the names of -- until I gain more familiarity with the sounds of the language it will be difficult to remember these sorts of things.
We were taken to go shopping for groceries on Sunday evening and I feel like I have a fair idea of what it is like to be entirely illiterate (perhaps worse since I also cannot communicate verbally in Japanese and a great deal of the food is alien to me -- I don't know what I am getting). It was an interesting and fun experience of which I am sure I will get many more. Television is highly entertaining as well. I have found that American commercials do not have a monopoly on silly and outright outrageous commercials and programming. You do not need to speak or understand the language to realize when people are just being a bit "wacky" or when the programming is unduly dramatic.
Since I have been here, there has been a small earthquake (which I was unable to feel) and a foiled (?, I think, details are sketchy) gas attack in the Tokyo area subway. Tuesday the group of fifteen participants and some GUAS officials went to Kamakura, a beautiful city near where we are staying. There are some beautiful shrines there, including the Great Buddha, Daibutsu. I purchased some postcards of the area which I will be sending soon (purchasing stamps at the post office was embarrassing). After which, we went shopping in the Kamakura area followed by yet another excellent meal. This time one of the language instructors "subsidized" part of a meal at a local (family operated) pub/restaurant. We stayed in a private Japanese style room (tatami mats, rice paper windows, etc.) and had various dishes and lots of beer and Sake. My experience thus far is that the Japanese men do indeed enjoy drinking (as do many of the program participants, I must admit) -- but that the Japanese women are more reserved in their consumption of alcohol. The probability of a fish being served with its head still attached seems to be inversely related to the size of the fish. When the head is attached, you're supposed to eat it (which I do, and for the most part you don't notice anything and it is quite good). There has only been one dish I cannot stand -- some type of beans mixed in a very disgusting goo. I don't remember the name, but evidently many Japanese don't like it either and almost without exception do foreigners enjoy it (I wonder if it is served to gaijin (foreigners) just so the Japanese present can laugh at the reactions created).
It has been raining for most of my stay here, which I am thankful for as it helps to keep the temperature down -- but it is not convenient for taking pictures! A final quick story before I sign off -- I was watching TV early one morning (about 3:00 a.m. -- jet lag is still with me) and saw a story on "supa ladeesu" (super ladies) of golf. The picture of the "supa ladee" was shown, along with her age, to my surprise, blood type. I found this very curious until I was told that the Japanese believe blood type is an indicator of personality type (or some aspect of personality), and is somewhat similar to the astrology mentality (birth sign) found in the US.
Well, I need to (I mean really NEED to) go review a bit of Japanese. Hope all is well in the States with everyone...
Roger.
Greetings from Japan!
I completed the first week orientation Friday and then traveled to my host institution that afternoon, with the help of a student sent by the NAO (National Astronomical Observatory) to meet me and guide my way through Tokyo's large and complex system of trains, subways, and buses. Prior to leaving, the group made a one day excursion to the Kanagawa Academy of Science and Technology. This most impressive facility sponsors 3 to 5 year research projects in almost any science related field imaginable. They just completed one project based on ceramics for engine chambers and have numerous others in the workings, such as "ultimate spectroscopy" and an optical technology for high density data storage and retrieval. The latter was pretty neat -- they are manufacturing extremely sharp (reproducible) glass (?) tips to optically read and write. In order to measure the properties of the tip, this particular lab had an electron scanning microscope purchased solely for that purpose -- a little outside the everyday UW research budget. Several members of the labs kept apologizing for their old equipment which generally was on the order of four to five years old! It must be very nice to have such a privileged working atmosphere.
Upon arriving at my host institution, I was pleased to find that the NAO is surrounded by a forested area. Not only does this keep the light down during nighttime observations, but it makes an identifiable landmark so I know roughly which bus stop to get off at. Because of the surrounding trees, NAO is called the "Oasis of Tokyo" -- not a bad analogy considering the crowded and compact organization of the surrounding Tokyo area. Aerial photographs show a desert of concrete and steel surrounding an oasis of trees -- NAO. My room accommodations are extremely nice and I don't believe I could ask for any better. I have a private room with shower complete with air-conditioning and television. A kitchen with necessary dishes and pans is available as well as free laundry facilities. On top of this, add the fact that it is within five minutes walking distance of the office I work at and I believe I have lucked into a very good arrangement.
My initial meeting with my host professor, Dr. Inoue, occurred the Friday I arrived. We sat for a short time discussing my trip and then he was kind enough to take me to dinner at a Japanese restaurant. My host professor seemed very interested EXACTLY why I wanted to come to Japan. My general response that I was interested in the facilities, culture, etc. did not seem to impress him very much. He also asked if Wyoming was a famous school and I of course had to say not exactly -- again he did not seem overly impressed. Since we were on the subject, I asked him EXACTLY why he wanted to host a foreign research student. He replied that the director of the Nobeyama Radio Observatory couldn't/wouldn't host me and then asked him to host me. Since the director is Dr. Inoue's boss, he was obligated to take me (his words, not mine). He seems, however, to be a very intelligent person who, when all else fails, has a sense of humor. I guess I will just have to dazzle him with my charm and personality OK, OK, I know better than to give him ALL of my charm and personality at one sitting). I think given time things will become less tense. The post-docs and students here have been very friendly and have tried to make me feel welcome -- I was invited to lunch with them this last Saturday which was very nice. I was also pleased to find that the astronomy book I had selected to read parts of at UW is the same astronomy book the younger people are working through here -- one even went so far as to refer to it as their "bible".
Sunday I braved the bus and train system in an attempt to start seeing the surrounding area. I spent about double the necessary fares to get where I was going due to the numerous mistakes I made. Generally, the trains are very easy to use since they often have maps and English writing for main stations. The bus system, however, is a nightmare for me. You would need to be proficient in Kanjii and know how to speak to really be able to get around on this system. I ended up about ten miles off course Sunday (out of a 5 five trip this is pretty bad), and spent a great deal of time (and embarrassment) trying to find someone with sufficient English to point me in the right direction. Eventually, I did make it to the Meiji shrine and gardens. It was very beautiful and very tranquil.. This shrine is evidently one of the more popular in Japan. During the New Year celebrations tens of thousands of people go to this area, and it is the same during the "Coming of Age" festival for young women (January 15 or so, I believe). Afterwards, I went to an adjoining park named Yoyogi park. Here you find a collection of very "interesting" Japanese youth. Anything from punk, to 50's styles, to wedding gowns can be found in this area on a Sunday afternoon. Along the sidewalks ever 100 meters or so, you find competing bands making as much noise as possible. They use portable gas powered electric generators to power their amps and other equipment, and their skill levels range from very terrible to pretty good. One group was singing British Punk in Japanese -- it was awful! I also spent some time in a huge shopping area in the city of Shibuya. There is a very famous statue of an akita dog in the main square here -- the story being that this dog (whose name I don't recall) waited several months for his master to return home, not knowing he had died at work. I don't know if it is a true story or not, and I have heard versions of the same story in the US. The main center square is a sight to behold -- when the crosswalk lights change, I imagine on the order of thousands of people cross this single area alone! The "Wyoming boy" in me is completely overwhelmed by these masses of people.
Friday evening I spent about one-half of an hour at a religious festival of some kind -- the entrance had "Mitamamatsuri" written in hirigana, and from my dictionaries I surmise this event was some sort of soul or spirit festival. It was a lot of fun to watch. Colorful paper and lights adorned the shrine area and the attending people were all very happy. The highlight for me, however, was seeing the many, many young children carrying paper lanterns about the shrine area, laughing and smiling. The young girls, in particular, were dressed in beautiful small kimonos and were simply darling. I snapped a couple photographs but I am unsure if they will turn out -- it was fairly dark and I was using a low speed film. Its always refreshing to be reminded that people the world over value the same basic things such as family. I have found this to be true for many things in Japan -- while their culture and many aspects of their lives are quite different from Western culture, there exists common bonds and similarities between us.
That's all for now... until next time.
Roger.
Hello All,
Greetings once again from Japan. I have just completed my first week of stay at the National Astronomical Observatory (NAO). Being outside of astronomy, I have been spending the majority of my working time reading astronomy texts so that I might have a basic understanding of the operations here. I also was able to view a FX type (Fourier Transform followed by Cross Correlation) of correlator used for processing and reducing VLBI (Very Long Baseline Interferometry) data sets. Its performance characteristics are impressive, but the machine is just a very large box so it is hard to be impressed by appearances unless you are particularly fond of very large boxes). I also saw a series of data recorders -- typically they support data rates of 128 to 256 megabits per second. I was surprised to see that one of the older recorders was simply a bank of ordinary video recorders.
Perhaps my favorite item, technically, that I have seen was some photographs of the Muses-B satellite which will be launched next year for space VLBI. The satellite extends out a 8 meter diameter dish for radio observations. The mechanics of this are most impressive. I was also surprised to see that the dish surface was constructed of a metal fabric (in fact, I believe I was told that this fabric was produced by a women's stockings manufacturer). The material is a gold plated molybdenum. I have a sample of the material which I will share on my return. Most impressive is that the extended fabric dish has a surface accuracy (rms.) of about 1/2 mm. If you stop and think about this, it is a remarkable accomplishment in itself.
My host professor arranged several "technical" visits for me, which was very appreciated. From July 26 until August 3 I will be staying at the Nobeyama Radio Observatory (NRO)in Nagano. The following week, I will spend two days at the Communications Research Laboratory (CRL) headquarters, followed by two days at the CRL facility in Kashima. I am still hoping that I will be able to view the Muses-B satellite (the dish portion is being produced by Mitsubishi). While in Nagano at NRO, I booked a one-evening hotel stay at a traditional Japanese style hotel at a traditional Japanese price (expensive). Actually, I didn't book my reservations (I couldn't speak the necessary Japanese if I tried) but relied instead on the VSOP secretary here at the NAO. It seems regardless of country, secretaries are the most important people at any facility. Anyway, I feel the high price will easily be outweighed by experiencing authentic Japanese style living accommodations. It is curious, but the Japanese I have met here often go out of their way to arrange Western accommodations, food, etc. not quite believing a person might actually prefer the equivalent Japanese items.
I am continually amazed by the dedication to work and study which is exhibited by my host and his students, and other working professionals and students which I have met. Wyoming certainly "pales by comparison", as does the other areas of the United States which I have seen. My host professor does not go home during on weekdays. Rather, he works until very late at night and then stays at a nearby house to sleep. He is up fairly early in the morning, ready to work and only goes home to "visit" his wife and children on Saturdays and Sundays. The students, it seems, work nearly 24 hours a day. The are very dedicated to learning -- the VSOP group has organized study/seminar/discussion sessions on Saturdays. These meetings typically take 1/2 to a full day, reducing any freetime for these students to just Sundays. During the evenings, students work straight into the night without returning home or going out to eat. Gas and electric burners materialize around 5:30 to 6:00 and dinner is prepared at the facility. It's a humbling environment. However, I believe the price these people are paying is simply too high, and I doubt I could ever rally such dedication for my work at the expense of my family and other important aspects of life.
Speaking of eating, it turns out the years of diligent training on the part of my Mother has finally paid off. My excellent table manners are finally appreciated -- it is the custom in Japan and considered good manners to slurp as much as you like while eating. In this regard, I have excelled, due in part to my inability to properly use chopsticks. I have improved my chopstick ability to where I can generally eat my meal in twice the time a typical Japanese person eats his (for those who know how quickly I normally eat, it may be surprising that I haven't yet passed my Japanese friends in eating speed). I still have a long way to go, however, as I would swear that most Japanese could drink water with chopsticks if they felt the need.
I watch TV during the evenings as it is highly entertaining. Sometimes, I believe, not being able to speak Japanese allows me to hear and see things I would otherwise never see. Case in point, the news is OBSESSED with the apprehension of certain cult members believed to be involved with the serin gas attacks, and any other aspect related to the cult in general (of course, the American media would NEVER allow itself to become obsessed with a criminal figure/attack/murder...). I certainly cannot understand the details of the reports, but I find it highly interesting that when pictures of the cult leader (Asahara, or something close to that, is his name) are displayed, the pictures and commentary are accompanied by very sinister sounding background music. It is a subtle form of manipulation, I think, and I honestly can't remember if US newscasts use similar tactics. Perhaps one of you will watch the news carefully with this in mind and will let me know.
In other news, the oldest woman in Japan died this week -- at the age of 116. The Japanese are evidently known for their great longevity. Some say this is due to their low fat diet (lots of fish and the like), but I think McDonald's is out to change that. McDonald's must be one of the most successful franchises in Japan judging by the shear number of stores and the lines of people waiting for food. I have also spent a bit of time watching Sumo wrestling on TV, and it seems that this sport truly is popular in Japan. I had somehow envisioned it as more of a tourist attraction rather than a sport accepted by ordinary Japanese citizens, but the papers are filled with Sumo pictures and stories and the people I have talked to are enthusiastic about Sumo wrestling and their favorite wrestler.
I have continued to make as many trips during the weekends as possible. Our very own UW student Yasuhiro Ota warned/suggested (I'm not entirely certain which) that I might take a look at the Kabukicho district in the city of Shinjuku -- and since Shinjuku is a main train station junction I took Yas's advice. Kabukicho is a red light district that caters to about every conceivable "need" a man might have. Being from Wyoming, I was skeptical that such areas truly existed and thought they might be overstated -- boy was I wrong! I went at 2:30 in the afternoon (incorrectly believing such areas only operate late at night) and had dozens of Japanese trying to encourage me to peep shows, strip shows, live sex shows, etc., etc.. Although such activities are technically illegal, no steps are taken by the police to curb such activities, or the very obvious prostitution which is likewise available (any phone booth has advertisements for prostitutes with phone numbers). Being from Wyoming, it was enough to see the outsides of these businesses let alone what goes on inside (I'm sure the "services" are not cheap as well, and I think with the great risks of various diseases one would have to be out of their mind to engage in such activities). My guidebook calls Shinjuku station one of the most poorly designed/confusing stations in Japan, and I must admit I agree. I get lost in the maze of tunnels and passages every time. I would estimate that at peak periods, 5000 to 15000 people could be found in this one station alone. I am still shocked by the numbers of people I see.
Taking Dr. Steadman's advice, I also visited Akihabara, the electronic lovers closest thing to heaven. This area has thousands of electronics shops with anything you could possible imagine -- capacitors and transformers, walkmans, stereos of the cheapest to most exotic varieties, TV's, VCR's, electronic road maps for vehicles equipped with GPS receivers, the list goes on and on and on and on and on (well, you have the basic idea). I spent 1 1/2 hours here and made a cursory view of 2 multi-level shops and one ground level bazaar with 50 to 100 shops (In other words, I didn't make it over 100 yards from the train station exit). This area was fun to poke around in but I would not buy electronics here as they are somewhat expensive and there is no guarantee that what you buy will be compatible with US electric standards or radio frequencies, etc.
Following Akihabara, I went briefly to Ueno, a city whose rail station is claimed to be the largest in Tokyo. Again, throngs of people are bustling through this station at any given time, but the station is better laid out than the station in Shinjuku. I went to Ueno park and had (so the vendor said) "Japanese Pizza". I am not sure where this analogy came from -- it's like saying cornflakes topped with spinach is like a nice T-bone steak. The taste was interesting but once is enough for that dish (compared with Nato [fermented soy beans, I think I talked about this dish previously], where even once is too much).
Today, I traveled to Asakusa and visited the Sensoji Temple. The street approaching the temple is lined with tourist shops, which my guide book warns are filled with "tourist junk". Perhaps I have no appreciable taste, but these little shops are among the ones I have most enjoyed (I like the "tourist junk", I can buy electronics, western clothes, and McDonald's hamburgers in the US). The little street (called Nakamise-Dori) has something for everyone and something which is likewise affordable for anyone. I had (I think) yakitori here -- which is Japanese "chicken-on-a-stick". I don't believe the Japanese have ever heard of lean chicken meat, however, as I would have termed these items "chicken-fat-on-a-stick" (where's the chicken?). The temple was great -- many worshippers going about their business, burning incense, lots so see, smell, hear, and experience. The temple was leveled during WW2 (as was most of Tokyo, I've gathered), so the temple is a more recent concrete reconstruction.
Rather than hassle with the trains back, I left Asakusa by water bus (soijo, I think it was called). This was again a highlight for me, as I haven't been on many boats. The trip was leisurely and relaxing, while offering some unique sight-seeing. I enjoyed it a great deal. The boat trip ended (for me) at Hamarikyu gardens. These gardens are the best I have seen. Everything is immaculately pruned and the area is quite clean (more than I can say for nearly any other part of Tokyo). There is a "sea water pond" in the park -- which essentially means the pond level rises and falls with the tides. The pines in this gardens are cut and pruned in the traditional Japanese fashion giving a unique feel to the entire place. As this message is getting rather long, I will try to fill more details in later.
Overall, the people here have been very friendly, but it is still entirely evident that I am a gaijin (Japanese for foreigner). If I manage to find a seat on the trains it is almost always the case that no one will sit next to me until every other seat has been taken (and sometimes not even then). I enjoy the trains for the sole purpose of "people watching". The older generation are my favorite -- they tend to have rigid posture and stern faces, display little or no emotion, and have a dignified presence. I caught the eye of an older woman in traditional kimono dress and smiled -- her face remained set but the brief twinkle in her eye assured me that we had communicated and that she was not threatened by me -- it made my day. I generally yield my train/bus seat (when I have one) to older people and this is a sure way of gaining their appreciation (further, sometimes it is better to stand as this puts you nearer the air-conditioning units of the train/bus).
I'm not sure how anything can live in Tokyo, as far as animals and plants are concerned. Careful inspection of plant leaves shows their veins are black with car exhaust and other pollution, trash lines their stems and trunks, the water is contaminated by oil and other chemicals -- it is really bad compared to Wyoming. Still, things seem to make it. I was surprised to find a large toad and two rabbits (the rabbits, due to their gentle nature, may have been domestic, but I am not sure) -- all of which, however, were on the rather open and forested grounds of NAO.
That's really all for now... drop me a reply mail and let me know what is going on with each of you. I'll update again soon.
Sayonara, Roger.
Greetings,
Unexpected plans have prompted me to write a short update for my friends and family back in Wyoming and elsewhere. A last minute "technical" visit was arranged this week, and I leave for Mizusawa on Friday evening. Mizusawa is several hundred kilometers away in the northern portion of Honshu (the main island of Japan), in an area called Touhoku. The Mizusawa Observatory is located in this city, and I will get to view this facility on Monday and Tuesday. Conveniently enough, this is the home town of a colleague of my host, named Kawano san, and he will thus accompany me to this facility. I must briefly acknowledge the great help and assistance provided to me by Kawano san. He has arranged most of my technical visits, always provided assistance when asked, and is consistently one of the most friendly people here at NAO (at least towards me). I am indebted to him. I will leave Mizusawa and go directly to the Nobeyama Radio Observatory for my 1 week stay, and since it is unlikely I will have e-mail access at either of these two locations, this may be my last email until August 3 or so.
Perhaps inappropriately so, I find myself more excited for the sightseeing this trip will offer. By leaving Friday evening on bus, we will arrive in Mizusawa on Saturday around 5:30 in the morning. Kawano san has left the weekend open for me to sightsee and I have found two locations I would like to go to -- the first (on Saturday) is along the eastern coast and will hopefully consist of two short sight-seeing boat excursions, one from Jodogahama (a beautiful beach) and the other from Shimanokoshi (a small fishing village); and the second (Sunday) a trip to a gorge with the possibility of taking a river boat up the gorge. Both of these locations were recommended in the Japan tour books I have... which incidentally are responsible for a great deal of the knowledgeable commentary I have been able to provide regarding many of my visits. If I have previously given the false impression of being well versed in Japanese culture and history, it was purely accidental... I am just beginning to get a taste of the wonderfully rich history developed over the generations by the Japanese people. The Saturday excursion is extremely tight in schedule and I wonder if I will be able to make all the connections... if I miss one on the return trip, I will be "stranded" in the area overnight (which is one reason for doing this on Saturday). While I certainly don't care to spend the exorbitant fees for hotel accommodations, missing my connecting bus/train may provide the best opportunity for adventure...
I will leave the actual details of the trips for a future letter -- I just wanted to whet your appetites with what is to come. After my stay at Mizusawa, I will travel by Shinkansen to the Nobeyama Radio Observatory (NRO). As I have heard such glowing reports about these bullet trains, I am excited about actually experiencing the ride (along with the approximately $200 ticket price ONE WAY, I dang well better really enjoy the ride). I really have no reason to complain over price as the Japanese government was quite generous with the stipend they provided -- however it is difficult not to compare with US prices. While in Nagano, I will tour the observatory facilities, and I will also have a free weekend to sightsee (which I have no plans for as of yet -- the NRO is in a different location than I originally thought. It is in the Nagano Prefecture, not in the city of Nagano as I had assumed). I anticipate I will have a great deal to write about when I return on August 2, so you can expect details a short time later. The two weeks following my stay at NRO are likewise filled with professional visits. Kawano san and my host set up visits with the Electronic Navigation Research Lab, the Communications Research Lab (CRL) based in Kashima, and CRL headquarters, and finally the Honjyou factory of the Oki electric company -- I am fortunate indeed to view these facilities.
On another note, I would like to continue my thoughts on the Japanese work ethic. While in my last letter I eluded to the amazing diligence of the professional worker and student, there is another side to the Japanese work force. Of course, there are factory workers, cooks, custodians, and the like as you would expect, and my impression is that they have much less demanding expectations. However, there is also a segment of "workers" that I find truly baffling -- I see women whose sole duty is to push elevator buttons, the train stations are lined with individuals whose sole duty is to hand out tissues, fans, and the like (a form of direct advertising), there are individuals who seem to do nothing more than hold up signs pointing to a nearby shop (for whatever reason they cannot place the sign on a stand and let it stand for itself), and the list goes on. This is clearly an enormous misuse of worker potential. I further wonder how these people can be satisfied with their work and what they accomplish -- what sort of advancement is possible? How is performance evaluated? How is "good performance" rewarded? All I can think when I see these people is how terribly depressing I would find such a job...
I enjoy taking walks around the NAO facilities during the evenings. There are a great deal of plants and insects that are very unusual and fun to investigate (for those of you interested in looking at plants and bugs). Bamboo (which, to my surprise, is a grass and not a tree, according to one of my books) is one of my favorite plants. There are quite a few "Japanese" items constructed of bamboo, from cup-like ladles at the shrine entrances to fences enclosing people's yards. I has such a different appearance, and for me it lends a "foreign" feel to Tokyo (which might otherwise be missed if one only looked at the many concrete and steel buildings... of course the Japanese writing also gives it away but it is not the same). The various trees are invariably pruned in a Japanese style as well, and I find this enjoyable and exotic. Of the bugs I have seen, there is a silver/grayish one that is my favorite. It has a armor plating on the backside and looks, using a bit of imagination, like a trilobite (sp.?, an ancient creature whose fossils are often shown in museums and textbooks). Anyway, when you disturb this little creature, it rolls up into a little ball protecting itself with its armor coating. If the wind is blowing appreciably, this less aerodynamic form causes the bug to roll away, presumably to safety! Maybe we have these in the US but I have never seen them before. They are a bit repulsive and disgusting, as most insects are destined to be, but I admire them anyway.
It seems rumors spread faster in a city of 12 million than they do back home -- a fact I am just now beginning to appreciate. Two weeks ago I toured the Meiji shrine and met a participant of the summer institute program (which is slightly different, they receive 1/2 day of Japanese language instruction every day for the duration of their stay). We walked together for a time and "chatted". I commented that I was envious of his language classes as I would like to improve my Japanese, and made a second comment regarding the fact that I was not an astronomer and that my facility was an astronomy observatory. The latter comment intended only to indicate I lacked the expertise I would have liked, and as such I was doing some additional study to get the basics down. I also made the comment that I was learning a great deal and thoroughly enjoying my stay. Anyway, this person, who I will call "Paul" (since this is his real name), managed to grossly misinterpret my comments, somehow believing I was having a terrible time and learning/doing nothing -- and then went directly to the NSF program manager and said as much. A week later, Randy (the NSF official) called me asking what the problem was. I tried to explain that there must be some misunderstanding, etc., and discussed exactly what I wrote above. Silly me, I thought this would be the end of the story. Today, my host professor sat down with me to discuss what "problems" I was having, as a "complaint" was evidently made by NSF to Monbusho (the hosting Japanese agency) regarding my assignment to the NAO. I could hardly believe my ears. It seems although I was having no problems before, someone is intent that I have problems now (I believe my host professor and Monbusho were offended by this complaint, as they rightly should be). I don't understand how a comment while touring a shrine on a weekend could develop into a complaint to the Japanese Ministry of Education, Science and Culture. I have dealt with the situation as best as I can -- I have apologized (and apologized) to my host for the misunderstanding, assuring him I was indeed doing fine (and I am), and I wrote an e-mail to Randy once again explaining there was no problem and asking him to contact the appropriate people in Monbusho and tell them there had been a misunderstanding and apologize. I don't know what else I can do... I hope the situation smoothes out soon and that no irreparable damage occurred (although, I'm not convinced this whole thing is my fault -- the less patient side of my personality would like to wring Paul's neck). Talk about making a mountain out of a mole hill... I will not underestimate the possibility of things being grossly misinterpreted again.
Tonight I will join a couple friends from the Monbusho program to have a beer or two. We will meet at Roppongi, which I gather is frequented by foreigners often. They have been there before, while I have not, and they suggested going to the Gas Panic bar. Evidently, this bar has beer specials until 9:30, charging only 300 Yen per beer (about 3.60 US). This price is better than what is charged in many supermarkets. As this will be the first time I will meet with native English speakers since arriving at my host institution, I am excited to go (besides, how could I not go to the "Gas Panic Bar" at least once during my stay?). With this, I will close for now. I will write again when I can. Hope all is well with everyone.
Roger.
Hello All,
I have a lot to tell, so I will get right started. My Roppongi visit turned out well -- indeed, Roppongi is a delight to those who enjoy the night life. I met with my friends, enjoyed having someone to speak English to, and spent about $38 in beer. Even at Japanese prices, this was sufficient to get me "snockered" (I'm not sure if this is a word, but I think just the sound of it conveys my general condition that night). Couple this fact with my amazing "subway prowess" and it should be obvious I had a difficult time getting home. The 1 1/4 hour arrival trip was doubled to 2 1/2 hours to get home (mostly because the final bus to the observatory doesn't run late and I had to walk this part). I felt very lucky to have gotten back at all -- I miraculously made the last trains running that night with as little as 2 minutes to spare. It is interesting to note that a great number of drunk people can be found on Japanese trains on virtually any evening. Most commonly, it is groups of business men or students who are in this state. Evidently Japanese laws are quite different from those in the States as beer and other forms of alcohol are drunk openly on the trains and other forms of public transportation. I have read that one visiting Japan might be convinced that Japan is a nation of alcoholics -- I wouldn't go that far but it is entirely evident that they drink a great deal. The "Gas Panic Bar" attracts a more western crowd and plays mainly western rock music -- without much imagination you would think you were back in the States. Still, it was fun.
Friday the 21st Kawano san and I departed for Mizusawa by late bus. The bus we took departed at 10:30 in the evening and was spacious and comfortable. It is appropriate to introduce a bit of Japanese "religion" at this point. Most Japanese, it seems, possess a sort of Zen power to block out everything but a certain object. This is convenient if you are looking at a bonzai tree in the middle of Tokyo -- the bonzai tree would be your object of focus and the populated and polluted surroundings of Tokyo would magically vanish. A related technique was employed by everyone on the bus -- self and sleep became the object of focus, and like magic everyone but me was asleep in about an hour. So I practiced my Zen techniques that night -- I concentrated on self and sleep, trying to block everything else out. I was to become my own universe -- no longer were there droning diesel engines, bright lights, and a chair that didn't recline enough, there was only myself and sleep. Yah, right -- reality found no leave and I spent a thoroughly miserable night wide awake. It seems I have no Zen powers. We arrived at Mizusawa at 5:30 in the morning which gave me just enough time to drop off my bags at my room and find my way to the train station to start my day's tours.
My Saturday schedule was rather tight and most of it was spent riding on trains to arrive at my destinations. Fortunately, the north-western coast of Honshu was completely worth the effort. From Mizusawa I traveled north to Morioka and then took a bus to Miyako, which is located right along the Pacific ocean. The bus ride to Miyako was sensational. The route followed waterways through some extremely rugged hills (some would call them mountains, but I'm from Wyoming and if they are not capped with snow, I can't call them mountains). All along the way were terraced rice paddies -- something I have not often seen and they were very picturesque. The streams and rivers were beautiful, and the rugged hillsides retained their native canopies. I am unaccustomed to such lush greenery and it was a real treat to view this area. Fishermen dotted the streams and the fishing poles they used were somewhere between 26 and 32 feet long -- also something I have never seen. While I only saw a few, the thatched roof buildings were beautiful -- I was surprised to see that the thatching was on the order of feet thick, not inches as I had assumed. Perhaps because of misconceptions on my part, the thatched roof buildings and rice paddies finally gave me a strong sense of being in Japan.
Generally, the more rural the area, the more friendly the people (this is true in the United States and virtually every other country I have been to). In this rural locale, I was pleased to find people smiling at me and saying hello -- treatment I was not regularly getting in Tokyo. I have always been somewhat more fond of "country folk" and this is true in Japan as well. The seem to be straightforward, friendly, unassuming, and generally kind. My Grandma Andren, when speaking about our family, says "there's not an aristocrat among us" -- she's correct, I think, and maybe this is partially why I feel more at ease in a country rather than a city setting. Farmers were tending their rice paddies as early as 5:00 or 5:30 in the morning so it seems that the farmers (as with most farmers) work very hard. Judging by their appearance, they are not getting rich working in the fields (you don't farm to get rich). I believe you can accurately judge the age of women rice paddy workers by how bent their backs are -- and while their bodies and bones are worse for the wear, their spirits are strong. Perhaps due to neglect, these people have more gold and silver than teeth in their mouths -- testimony to their difficult lives and the payment they receive. I enjoyed watching the local people as much as the scenery.
I was glad to arrive at Miyako as the meandering roads were beginning to make me sick. From here I took a short bus trip to a beautiful beach -- Jogodahama beach, which means paradise or heavenly beach. There was no sand to speak of, rather a white stony shore with gigantic rocks jutting out from the sea. Pines of various sorts covered the hills and cliffs. This area is somewhat commercialized so it has perhaps lost some of its charm. I took a sightseeing boat which offered an unusual perspective for me with a leisurely pace that I appreciated. I had forgotten the salty smell of the ocean and it brought back memories of my other ocean trips. The sightseeing boat was rather large so it was basically immune to the waves of the ocean. Once the 40 minute cruise was over, I went back to Miyako to catch a train for Shimanokoshi, a small fishing village farther to the north.
The train from Miyako to Shimanokoshi was pleasant. Only one car took the journey (compared with tens of cars at any Tokyo station) and it certainly wasn't full. I met a college student along this part of the trip named Mamiko. She is an economics major, loves camping, and was headed to meet with some friends to go camping. She spoke English well enough to talk until I got off the train -- again the people seemed more friendly here. The train tracks on this portion had roughly 1/2 of their length through tunnels due to the rugged terrain. Upon arriving at Shimanokoshi I instantly knew I was going to enjoy this town. The station was right on the coast and the town was refreshingly small. I could even cross the "main street" without looking in relative safety (a thing you would never try in Tokyo for sure -- since driving is done on the left hand side of the streets in Japan, I always look the wrong direction when crossing and have been nearly run over several times). Some local fishermen were washing some sort of sea plants on a nearby pier and various fishing boats could be found all along the docks. This location also had a sightseeing boat which I took. The boat was medium sized and I was the only foreigner on the trip. Not five minutes on the boat, a local man (who was drinking, of course) approached me and gave me a Sapporo Black Label beer -- a generous token which helped me feel more at home. I returned the favor giving him a "Wyoming Bucking Bronco" pin -- I helped him put it on as I don't think he knew what it was for. While he didn't speak any English and I speak no Japanese, we managed to talk for most of the 45 minute boat trip. Lots of smiling and pointing, laughing and drinking. He also seemed to enjoy my binoculars which I lent him over the trip. The view was more spectacular than that of Jogodahama -- the trip passed by Kitayamazaki ("Alps of the Sea") which were breath-taking. Since the boat was smaller, the waves rocked the hull a bit more, which I enjoyed. Another passenger asked something about "America?" and I replied "Watashiwa America jin desu" which means "I am an American". He smiled, pointed to his own chest, and said, "Me Japanese". Most people within hearing range laughed at this remark including myself -- the fact was obvious. I was sorry to see the trip end, found myself being "forced" to take another beer, and was given a message scrawled in Japanese by my new friend (which I later found gave his name and address). I shall remember this excursion for a long time to come.
After the boat trip I began back home and finally arrived in Mizusawa at 11:30 p.m.. Since I had been up for nearly 40 hours straight I was incredibly tired -- a fortunate fact since, although sitting up until midnight, I was unable to make my air-conditioner do anything other than blow out hot air (the LCD display gives instructions in Japanese characters). Being so tired, I slept despite the high heat.
Sunday, I took a more leisurely schedule to Geibikei Gorge. I was skeptical that the previous day's experience could be topped but I found that it was. The town was serene and very clean, and a river boat trip provided my sightseeing for the day. The boats were flat bottomed with no motors -- a man poled the boat up the slow moving waters of the river. Tatami mats lined the boat floor, so your shoes had to be removed prior to walking on the main deck. The boat held somewhere on the order of 50 persons allowing a more intimate trip, and again I was the only foreigner of the group. The guide poling the boat made commentary on the way up, which everyone in the boat found incredibly funny except myself -- as I didn't understand a word of it. I somehow envisioned the conversation going like this...
"Ahhh, a beautiful day in Geibikei Gorge, and it seems as though we have a foreigner among us. I'll bet he doesn't speak a word of Japanese -- let's see. Oh blondie, you offend us all with your pale skin and big nose..."
( Crowd laughs )
"Look at this foreigner taking pictures of that small building -- doesn't he know it is a bathroom?"
( Crowd laughs )
etc., etc., etc.
Regardless of what was being said, I completely enjoyed the trip. Literally hundreds of trout followed each boat hoping to get a free meal. For 50 yen, you could purchase a small bag of green fish pellets to throw to the fish -- I bought 100 yen worth found it to be bargain entertainment. It is a bit funny to note the racket this facility has -- you purchase the pellets to feed the trout, and on the other end you can buy the trout roasted on a stick. Loving trout, I decided I would have to try some Japanese trout so I bought one "trout-on-a-stick". The fish were small and people were eating them bones and all. I recall my Grandpa Green used to eat small trout this way -- meat, bones, and tail, so I figured I could too (as a kid, this feat of my Grandpa's used to impress me greatly). So I took a big bite and started eating. I should have been more observant, in retrospect. It turns out that not only do the Japanese eat the bones and tail, they eat the internal organs as well (Grandpa never did that, to my recollection. We always gutted our fish). Needless to say, I dang near threw up and was unable to finish the fish. I have been unable to adapt well to the Japanese customs of eating shells, heads, and internal organs of various creatures -- regardless how small or good they might taste.
After the boat trip, I went around the town and found a variety of interesting places to visit. One in particular was very "neat" -- a small shop where hand-made paper was produced. The man making the paper was very friendly and more than willing to let me sit and observe him work. I watched him for probably thirty minutes. The paper he was making at the time was unusual -- he placed decorative leaves in the middle of the process, with a rather beautiful effect on the resulting paper. I returned to Mizusawa by 10:00 and got a good sleep for the following day of "technical sightseeing".
Mizusawa Observatory's main on-sight equipment is a 10 meter diameter radio dish and a lab for gravitational measurements. I was shown both and found them interesting. Evidently, while I was touring the facility, a large meeting was taking place discussing the future of Mizusawa Observatory -- after the meeting at 6:30 the participants had a snack/drinking party and I was able to attend. I was introduced to many "important" people but have found that after meeting so many people I have no chance at remembering their names. The snacks consisted of sushi, sashimi, and numerous other Japanese foods. I saw small crabs on the tray (shell, legs, eyes, internal organs, everything) and thought they might be for decoration -- not so, the Japanese eat these small crabs whole. One person assured me they were very good and an excellent source of calcium as well, so I tried one. This was difficult to get down, but since I was among many people and did not want to appear rude, I managed to finish it. I found these crunchy little crabs repulsive and will never eat them again -- similar to my reaction with the trout I ate in Geibikei. Fortunately, there was a great deal of beer to wash away the taste.
((( Message continues -- See Part II )))
((( Continued from Part I )))
After the snack/beer session, I turned in early -- the rest of the Japanese, however, continued drinking at a different locale until late in the evening (according to Kawano san). The following day, Kawano san drove a student from China and myself to the Chusonji Temple, near the town of Hiraizumi and not far from Mizusawa. Evidently, this temple area is one of the best in the northern area -- and I must admit that I enjoyed the grounds very much. The most interesting portion of the temple is Konjikido, or Golden Hall. Enclosed in glass and a second building for protection, this hall is entirely covered with gold leaf. The interior is ornately decorated and evidently houses the mummified remains of members of the Fujiwara family (I think). I did not realize that the Japanese mummified their dead, but I was told they do for very important individuals. The small mountain atop which this temple is built is particularly enjoyable -- large evergreens line the paths, one of which was around 400 to 600 years old. I also purchased an item called "omikuji" which is a sort of Japanese fortune sheet. I had Kawano san translate and evidently I am in for some good fortune (!). Kawano san has an aggravating habit of paying for everything when you are with him. I have been unable to force him to allow me to pay for anything -- I dislike this Japanese custom as I feel I am in everybody's debt. Hopefully I will be able to repay his kindness some day. After Chusonji Temple, we went to Motsuji Temple. Most buildings from this temple area were lost to fire and never reconstructed -- only the stone foundations are left to be seen. There is a surrounding garden which is nice, but not among my favorites that I have seen in Japan.
I saw some sort of grouse or pheasant at the Mizusawa Observatory during my stay --these wild birds are the largest wild animals I have seen during my stay. It also seems that the observatories provide mini-wildlife sanctuaries in otherwise very crowded cities. Mizusawa is not nearly as large as Tokyo, of course, but it is not small either. I have also seen stork-like birds in the rice fields -- as the rice fields are covered in water, small fish inevitably find their way into the paddies and these birds were cashing in on the fact.
Tuesday evening, Kawano san invited me to have dinner with his family at his house in Mizusawa. It was an honor to be invited and gave me the opportunity to visit his family. His wife and two youngest sons speak little English so translations were necessary for communication, but his eldest son speaks reasonably good English (much better than my Japanese, for sure). His eldest son, named Tadashi, was anxious to practice his English on an American and I enjoyed his company. The youngest son, I feel, was a bit scared of me -- as might be expected of a young child when near someone so different. Kawano san and his family are quite laid back and easy to get along with. Dinner was of traditional Japanese style -- seaweed wrapped around rice and various items such as raw fish, egg, ham (for me, I think), and various veggies. I even tried octopus for the first time -- but I cheated just a bit. I wrapped the octopus meat in a LOT of rice and couldn't really taste it. Octopus is very strange looking -- you can see the "sucker" portions on the meat. I have also eaten a fair bit of squid, which is a bit rubbery but not of unpalatable taste. After dinner, we all saw down to talk and (surprise, surprise) Kawano san brought out the sake to drink (and drink, and drink).
The next day I took my first Shinkansen ("bullet train") ride on my way to Nobeyama. These trains are amazingly fast and smooth (I believe I was told the peak speed for my trip was 230 kilometers/hour). However, due to these high speed the tracks must be laid very straight, and thus you go through a large number of tunnels -- cutting down the time to see the countryside. I'm glad I was able to ride on one of these trains but I must admit that I am not particularly fond of them from the standpoint, as reflected in many other aspects of Japanese society, the emphasis is on hurrying you along. This perpetual racing around is simply not for me -- maybe I have been in Wyoming too long where I am accustomed to a slower, more relaxed pace. I don't believe the average Japanese person realizes what they are missing...
The Nobeyama Radio Observatory is the most impressive facility I have visited during my stay in Japan thus far. Extremely high-tech equipment in a cool mountain environment -- there is a 45 meter diameter radio telescope, an array of five or six 10 meter diameter radio telescopes, and a T-shaped array of 84 smaller receivers which forms a "radio heliograph" for observations of the sun surface. The observatory grounds are beautiful, and situated near some impressive mountains. The facility grounds are open to the public and toured on a regular basis -- a policy I have not seen practiced often in the US. I think providing access to the public is important and helps generate support for a facility.
From Wednesday to Friday a large meeting was taking place, and (again, surprise) Thursday evening consisted of a snack/drinking party. I sometimes believe the drinking is needed in Japanese society -- daytime meetings are quite formal and I don't believe people have the privilege of being direct and honest. By drinking at night (thereby loosening one's inhibitions, I suppose), opinions are stated more freely and business discussions are regularly made. My preference, however, is for the "American" way of doing business -- more direct and to the point with evenings for family and friends.
I toured the Nobeyama facilities on Friday -- highlights included viewing the radio heliograph which provides near real time images of sun activity, and climbing to the highest point on the 45 meter diameter telescope. This telescope is huge! I imagine those who are nervous of heights might also reconsider climbing to the top. Also on Friday, my host Inoue san drove me to another nearby facility at or called Usuda. This too was quite impressive. Here the main telescope is 64 meters in diameter but since it was in use during my visit, I was unable to climb to the top. All these facilities have the latest, most high-tech equipment you could (and in some cases couldn't) imagine. Due to the ever-changing world of astronomy and technology, perhaps the most interesting aspects of these facilities are the creative and ingenious modifications made to the various systems to accommodate new projects. It seems that America does not have a monopoly on ingenuity.
Friday evening I spent the evening at a local "ryokan", or Japanese style inn. For anyone wishing to experience a traditional Japanese setting, I would highly recommend staying at one of these inns. I found the experience definitely worth the $130 I spent for one evening (which also included a Japanese dinner and Japanese breakfast -- reasonable even for the United States). Only slippers are allowed in the inn, and even these must be removed before stepping on the tatami mats which cover the floor of your sleeping room. Tatami mats are very interesting -- their surface gives a wonderful tactile sensation. Maybe as glass is more pleasant to drink from than a steel can, tatami is more pleasant than even a smooth wooden floor. The tight weave forms a rippled surface which massages the skin. Between the tatami mats, the futon for sleeping, the rice paper windows, and the low lying table (lined with appropriate pots and containers for making green tea) I found my room distinctly Japanese in style and very relaxing. Tatami mats are made from woven straw, and thus they carry the smell of straw or hay. This straw smell hangs a bit in the room, almost giving the impression of being in a barn. Having lived on a farm and being quite accustomed to these types of smells, I felt right at home. Before dinner, I had the opportunity to experience yet another Japanese custom -- taking a Japanese bath. Japanese baths are quite different from those in America. While segregated by gender, the baths are public and serve as a meeting place (although no one happened to be at this bath while I was there -- I had the entire place to myself). You shower prior to entering the bath, and then slip into the piping hot water (completely naked, of course). A small waterfall along with several underwater jets circulate the water, and there are decorative items strategically placed to provide a simple yet tasteful setting. Closing your eyes, you listen to the water trickle down the falls and the bubbles from the jets rise to the water surface -- steam caresses your face and I believe it is impossible not to find total relaxation. Dinner was traditional Japanese -- rice, tempura, soup, veggies of various types, and a raw meat of some sort. This raw meat was marbled in appearance and I wondered if it might be the "Kobe beef" I had heard so much about (Kobe beef is from hand-massaged, beer-fed cattle and is VERY expensive). With nothing to lose, I dipped the meat in a soy-type sauce and found that it was reasonably good. Alas, while talking with a Japanese guest of the ryokan I found the true nature of this mystery raw meat -- a Japanese delicacy called basashi. For those of you who do not speak Japanese, it is raw horse meat. Funny enough, I wasn't really surprised when I learned this -- generally the surprise comes if I know what I am eating. I have developed a policy regarding Japanese cuisine -- you try everything once without biasing yourself by asking what it is. If you like it, you eat more of it, if you don't, you don't eat more of it. Only after deciding whether you like it or not do you ask what it is -- and then you do not allow the reply to alter your opinion on taste. I enjoyed my sleep that evening, woke early to take yet another Japanese style bath (you have to take advantage of the facilities when they are available), ate a traditional Japanese breakfast (consisting of rice, soup, veggies, fish, a nearly raw egg, and a rather disgusting glass of what tasted like watered down yogurt), and finally checked out. The Japanese eat rice at EVERY meal -- if you don't like rice, don't come to Japan. It was an enjoyable stay of a most Japanese character (the ryokan was far more "Japanese" than Kawano san's own house, for example).
During the weekend I had envisioned climbing a nearby mountain -- the tallest peak of the Yatsugatake mountains (at 2899 meters, it is about 1200 meters higher than the starting point. Yatsugatake meaning eight peaks -- the range of mountains is gorgeous). However, since I was enjoying my "ryokan" experience Saturday morning and I had a dinner engagement with my host early Sunday, there really wasn't time in my schedule for the hike (a student who made the climb said it took 7 hours one way). It turned out for the best I think, as my schedule has been so hectic it was nice to simply relax and do nothing.
I was surprised Saturday to be approached by a Japanese person asking ME for directions. He said,
"Sumimasen,
Perhaps people remember the movie "The Wizard of Oz" and the scene where the mean old crone has taken Dorothy's dog Toto, placed it in a basket on her bicycle, and rode away laughing. I don't know how the Japanese managed to obtain this EXACT bicycle, but it is now at the NRO -- wide seat, black frame, basket and all. This antique bicycle is available for use at the NRO and I took it to get a liter of pop -- I wish people could have seen me as I looked utterly ridiculous. The small frame and low seat caused me to crouch over and I somehow believe I looked like a witch. There I was -- riding the bicycle from the Wizard of Oz with a liter of Sprite as my hostage and the Yatsugatake mountains shrouded by clouds in the distance. I'll say one thing -- I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore.
On Sunday evening, two other students and myself went to Inoue san's house (my host) for dinner. I met his wife and sons, we had a barbecue of sorts (of course - surprise, surprise - beer of several Japanese varieties could be found in quantity. So much so, one might wonder if beer were the main course), and he provided a box of fireworks to set off (it seems as though my 4th of July celebration came a little late this year). We couldn't possibly eat all the food provided and I certainly didn't loose any weight that evening. Come to think of it, I had somehow envisioned Japanese rations being somewhat meager and thought I might loose weight this summer. Quite the opposite has occurred, I'm afraid. It was a nice evening but as Inoue san has a underlying serious/formal nature to everything he does, it was not the relaxed atmosphere I am accustomed to for such events.
Monday consisted of more tours and a brief trip to a ski area for viewing the surrounding mountains. The mountain view was nice, but the view on the ski slopes was amazing -- hundreds of tents spaced at most two feet apart. The Japanese Railways (JR) were sponsoring some type of "camping and nature experience" for young people -- Japanese style. This conglomeration of tents seems to defeat the entire point of camping and I cannot fathom why anyone would participate in such a program (and likely pay a handsome fee for the "privilege"). I had an uneventful return trip to Tokyo on Tuesday, glad to return to my "semi-permanent" living quarters. Regretfully, the only changes in Tokyo were increased heat, increased humidity, and increased pollution. It's the first city I've been to where it is possible to look directly at the sun and not hurt your eyes (although I have seen a similar effect in Cody back in '87 when there were the great fires in Yellowstone).
Alas, we are now very near the end of this very long update -- but for those of you who are still curious about the subject of this message (Japanese Ninja Crows), I will elaborate a bit. I apologize but I am afraid Japanese Ninja Crows are more a product of my imagination than of reality. There is a group of black crows at the NAO grounds who, as crows are apt to do, well, they crow. It is not so much the typical "Caw! Caw!" of the crows in Wyoming, but more a "Haw! Haw!". Using a bit of imagination, the "Haw" becomes "Hi yaw!", which, of course, is the sound a Ninja makes before dealing the fatal blow to his opponent. A little more imagination and the black feathers of the crows become black Ninja suits. I enjoy watching these little Ninjas dance about, swiftly dealing lethal blows to bugs and worms of various types, crying out "Hi Yaw!". With that image, I will end for now... take care, each of you.
Roger.
Oh yes, one final thing. When on the boat in Shimanokoshi, I closed my eyes and for a brief second there was only the salt breeze, the undulating motion of the Pacific waves, and myself. I had achieved that elusive Zen state, albeit briefly. Perhaps there is hope for me yet.
Hello All,
I had envisioned a quiet week without much to report, but fate, fickle as always, had other plans in store. Wednesday WAS quiet. I spent most of the evening correcting the English on a report my host professor was preparing. He took another student and me out to a Chinese restaurant at about 11:30 p.m., and I eventually made it to sleep at about 12:30 a.m.. The following day I had a trip to the Electronic Navigation Research Institute. I enjoyed a couple hours of leisurely "tech" talk with a researcher working on a GPS overlay system with applications to aircraft monitoring. This was followed by a brief tour of the facilities of this branch.
Afterwards, the researcher also managed to arrange a tour of a virtual reality aircraft control tower which was linked to a virtual reality aircraft simulator. This was truly virtual reality at its best. The "control tower" was placed in a hemi-spherical type room. Six RGB projects created the 360 degree simulated airport. The image processing was quite complex -- I assume a pre-warping of the images was necessary to properly project these two dimensional images onto the curved surface of the surrounding screen. The virtual reality simulator was likewise impressive. While no physical motion was implemented in this simulator, the panoramic view (supplied by three RGB projectors, a little less than 180 degrees of view) was spectacularly realistic. The two person cockpit was equipped with various monitors simulating the necessary flight instruments and four types of aircraft are supported. Carefully engineered acoustics provided stunning sound. The entire system uses a bank of four main-frame type computers for image generation, a group of Silicon Graphics main-frame type computers for aircraft dynamics, and a Cray super-computer (super-expensive!) for fluid dynamic calculations (I think -- likely for air and wind models). Most impressive, I must admit. Unbelievably, I was given the opportunity to try the flight simulator (for an Airbus 320, a large commercial aircraft), without so much as having to put in a quarter for the privilege. I managed to take off from a Tokyo airport (full throttle, pull back when you are out of runway), and after a rather unstable (and short-lived, I might add) flight, I attempted to land. Unfortunately for the virtual population of Tokyo, I crashed the plane into a residential/business district killing my virtual crew and virtual passengers (OK, OK, you don't actually see anyone, but the scenery is realistic enough to make you believe you have passengers). As I have never flown a commercial size jet, I do not know if the delay between control movement and response of the plane is accurate or simply a result of the massive computations being done. The staff here informed me that even if I obtained a pilot's license, they would not brave a real flight with me. It seems as though my expert piloting and coordination skills impressed them greatly -- we will get back to the subject of coordination later.
After this visit, I caught a train to Nakano. My Japanese teacher from the first week, Tomoko Hiraiwa, was giving a modern dance performance (she is quite talented -- an engineer at Hitachi, a dancer, and a Japanese teacher!). Two other Monbusho participants attended and in addition to Hiraiwa sensei's performance we saw several others. I enjoyed the childrens' performances perhaps best of all. Following the performance I had intended on returning to NAO to get some work done for my host, but somehow I allowed Paul (a different Paul than I have previously talked about) to convince me to go get a quick beer (and what better place than the Gas Panic in Roppongi?). It is at this point that I would like to introduce Roger's International Travel Tips:
Travel Tip #1: There is no such thing as a quick beer (this is not really an international travel tip, but the point needs to be emphasized).
This simple, quick beer turned into several beers (and a couple shots of Tequila), and I had a good time "shooting the breeze". At about 10:45 p.m., after a few beers too many, I decided it was time to go and I excused myself. I hopped on the subway and, for those of you who remember my amazing "subway prowess", I managed to miss the station I needed to get off at. After re-orienting myself, I got back on track and reached Shibuya, where I needed to change trains. The complexity of Shibuya station (which is somehow enhanced after drinking a few too many beers) proved too much and I managed to get lost again. I did finally find the right platform, but by this time I knew I was cutting it close if I wanted to make the last train home. I caught one of the last trains, but unfortunately it only went two thirds of the distance I needed to go.
Travel Tip #2: Always bring sufficient cash for an emergency taxi trip to avoid the possibility of sleeping on some sidewalk.
As you might have guessed, I did not bring enough cash for a taxi trip back to NAO (obviously I didn't have enough money for a room either). So, I found an unoccupied piece of sidewalk and tried to sleep. Tokyo sidewalks, I will point out, are not very clean; particularly near the train stations. My clothes became incredibly filthy and permanently stained, I slept very little, but no one really bothered me. I now have a glimpse of what it is like to be homeless -- good incentive to find a job after graduation.
Travel Tip #3: Walk, don't run.
When morning came, I found myself sober and ready to return to NAO. The first train came and I darted off to catch it. Back to the subject of coordination -- it seems that I don't have any as I fell on my way to the train. I don't remember the fall, mind you, but I became aware that I was no longer standing and that blood was pouring from my face (I missed the train, by the way). I spent the next 20 minutes in an effort to control the bleeding, and more of an effort trying to convince a very worried-looking train employee that I didn't need a doctor. With a cloth to my head, I finally made it back to NAO.
Travel Tip #4: Sometimes you need a doctor.
While the cut I received was only about one inch to one and a half inches in length (on my forehead above my left eye), I guess it was a bit deep. After four hours, I still couldn't stop the bleeding and I decided that maybe the train station employee was right. So after trying to explain what happened to my host, he had his secretary (secretaries are great) drive me to a nearby hospital. Japanese hospitals are very good (initially I envisioned something out of the dark-ages). Furthermore, they are very cheap compared with the US -- my four stitches cost me about a hundred and twenty bucks (a subsequent Band-Aid, however, cost the equivalent to $15).
Travel Tip #5: People believe what they want to believe.
It seems that if you mention beer and an accident that requires a hospital trip in the same story, people refuse to believe that the accident could have happened while you were sober. My host and the numerous other people I have tried to explain this story to are no exception. I accept this fact but will tell it as it happened nonetheless.
I told Paul that this "experience" dampened my enthusiasm for the Gas Panic. He replied, "That's OK, I'll find another bar we can go to." I think he missed my point.
Saturday, I enjoyed a leisurely day of doing nothing. On Sunday, I attempted to go shopping in Shibuya. Emphasis on the word attempted -- it is amazing what you CAN'T find in a city of 13 million, especially when you don't speak the native language. I ended up spending money on train fares, sodas, and not much else. I returned by way of Shinjuku Station and, even after a month, find myself boggled by the shear number of people. My travel book, which was published some years back, says Shinjuku Station averages 3 million commuters a day. This is difficult to conceive for such a relatively small area. Six times Wyoming's population. If each person only spent ten minutes in the station, I could spend every minute of every day, without eating or sleeping, for the next 57 years just to relive the INDIVIDUAL 10 minute experiences at this one station for one day. From my experience, I think it is a conservative estimate that each of Tokyo's 13 million inhabitants must spend at least one hour per day commuting -- that's on the order of twenty lifetimes wasted commuting each and every day in this one city alone. I'm baffled. I don't know how the average "Tokyo-ite" maintains an identity among the masses.
Monday and Tuesday were spent at the Communications Research Laboratory in Kashima. I gave a presentation of my research and am convinced that no one in my audience understood a word I said. Afterwards, there was a (surprise) drinking/snack party with some interesting conversation on politics. Viewing facilities and talking with the staff concluded this visit. I was made very welcome at this facility by all people and enjoyed my stay.
Wednesday and Thursday I spent at the Communications Research Laboratory headquarters. This compound is impressive, to say the least. However, it has a very formal atmosphere. I met the director of one of the divisions and found the ultra strict formality of this meeting very uncomfortable. However, it was informative to talk with the various departments and view the facilities. Of particular interest is a new building which, on the lower floor, houses a $10 million facility dedicated to aspects of electronic manufacturing, and on the upper floors, research is being performed on mm-wavelength wireless communication systems for internal office environments.
Friday I visited the Honjo plant of Oki electric company. Factory visits are always interesting -- lots to see. This particular factory is highly, highly automated. There are many specialized machines to accomplish a multitude of tasks. It seems company environments are also quite formal in Japan, but I was considered an important guest and thus treated incredibly well.
This coming week is called O-bon, and is typically a time when people try to return home (I was also told there was some ceremony regarding ancestors that is an important aspect of the festivities). Most people at NAO will be returning home so I had anticipated getting some free time to travel around Tokyo -- but as luck would have it, it seems as though I have been "volunteered" to edit two technical manuscripts during the upcoming week. As they are quite long, related to astronomy (which I do not have a good background in), and written in "Japanenglish" (the result when a native Japanese person writes in English), this task will unfortunately take many days.
Guess that's all for now. I'll write again as time and circumstances permit.
Roger.
Hello once again,
Alas, it was bound to happen -- the past few weeks have been somewhat uneventful. I believe I left off last time prior to the O-Bon holidays...
There is an exodus of people from the Tokyo area during the beginning of this holiday, and a return of the very same people a week later. This, of course, means the already crowded trains and subways are just jammed. I decided to avoid the entire ordeal and read a couple of books instead during the first few days ("Foundation" and "Foundation and Empire", both by Isaac Asimov, and "A Time to Kill" by John Grisham. There isn't exactly a wonderful selection of English books to choose from here at NAO). I had anticipated doing some touring on Tuesday, but everywhere I went was completely shut down -- with little signs indicating that the businesses/museums/parks would not open until Thursday (officially, the O-Bon holiday is on Tuesday and Wednesday, but many people take off the entire week). So I returned to the NAO, tried to edit a paper my host had given me, but ended up instead vegetating in front of the television for the majority of the time.
Thursday, I decided to make up for lost time and had one of the best touring days of my stay in Japan. I had heard a rumor that the central fish market was worth a visit -- for those who enjoy getting up at an early hour. Granted, I am not endeared with the wee early hours of the morning, but I decided nonetheless to make an exception this once. Physically, I awoke at 5:00 a.m., showered, had breakfast, and then trudged off to the train station. Mentally, I awoke some time past 6:00 a.m. on the train bound for Shinjuku. At Shinjuku I switched to the subway and by about 7:00 a.m. I arrived at Shimbashi, very near central Tokyo and very near Tsukiji (i.e., the central fish market).
Tsukiji is a complete wonder. This market supposedly handles all meat consumed in the Tokyo area -- population of about 13 million. While it deals with all meat (supposedly), all I saw was fish, fish, fish. As an engineer, I deal with numbers in the millions, or billions, or trillions, and I don't think a bit about it. As an engineer, I am comfortable with MEGA-watts (millions of watts) or MICRO-meters (millionths of meters). As a Wyoming boy, I am anything but comfortable with MEGA-people. I tried once before, in talking about Shinjuku station, to give a glimpse, an indication of MEGA-people. I think I failed miserably, and I feel obligated to try again having seen the Tsukiji fish market.
The streets outside the market are lined with trucks, all of which are being loaded or waiting to be loaded with the day's purchases. Fish packed in Styrofoam containers are hauled by mini motorized carts, hand carts, or just by hand. I wasn't entirely sure if I was allowed to enter the area I did -- there certainly weren't any signs saying "Tsukiji Central Fish Market : Foreigners Welcome". In fact, I didn't see any other foreigners at all; only a sea of working faces. There is an intangible quality to a bustling, animated market which is rather wonderful. While you might get in the way at times, often you can stand back in the shadows to gain an unbiased and rare view of the ordinary, unobstructed workings of a culture that is vastly different than your own. The streets leading to the main market building were congested with traffic, and the odor of fish grew stronger with each step towards to main building. The main building itself was of inconceivable dimensions -- outside you could not see both ends of one wall at the same time, and inside you certainly couldn't see the far end of the building (partly due to the concentration of stalls everywhere). The main building must have covered city blocks.
Extreme shock is the only way I can describe my initial reaction to the building's interior. Many hundreds of stalls, many thousands of people, and many millions of fish and other sea creatures. The air was so corrupt you felt like you were breathing fish. I didn't realize fish had so much blood, but the cobblestone floor supported rivulets of blood. The oceans must be far more productive than I ever imagined to support a harvest on this scale day in and day out, year after year. And everywhere were the fisherman and marketmen and wholesalers and retailers (and little ol' me). I have never seen such a wide variety of fish -- in size or type. There were tuna which were roughly my size, and fish no bigger than grasshoppers. There were flat fish and round fish and fish so ugly I wondered who in there right mind would eat them (foreigners who don't know any better is my guess). I would like to have taken my little niece Lena here -- much better than the "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish" book I gave her some time back. There were specialty stalls which looked purple from the hundreds of octopus lining the tables, others with squid, others with one type of crab or the other. Some fish were quite dead (the tuna invariably seemed to be pre-gutted and sometimes frozen), while other fish were quite alive. Speaking from personal experience, don't inspect a fish too closely when you are unsure if it is alive or dead -- the splash of water will get you wet and send you to near heart attack. There were also shell fish and shrimp and far too many other sea creatures to mention.
There is, however, a very somber side to Tsukiji. It is a business; a human enterprise intended for consumption and for profit. It is a mindless slaughter-house devoid of compassion or respect. I think things are no better in the US or any other country, but the brutal nature of man (all life, really) is often hidden and startling when viewed. I am aware of the cycle of life and the need for sustenance, but I think man abuses his strength and does not honor the other life forms which inhabit this world as well -- it is extremely unfortunate.
After Tsukiji, I went to Ueno to visit a couple of museums. First, I went to the National Science Museum. This museum is a bit like the Natural History Museum in Washington DC, so I will not bore people with the details -- fossils, plant and animal exhibits, and some "science" related exhibits (hands-on science experiments, science and technology displays, some aviation stuff). It was OK but nothing to plan your vacation over.
The second museum I visited was the Tokyo National Museum. This museum is of grand proportions and well worth a visit. It is the largest and oldest museum in Japan, and it exhibits works of art and antiquities of Japan and other Oriental countries. There are three main buildings: Honkan Gallery, Toyokan Gallery, and Hyokeikan Gallery. Honkan gallery is devoted to the display of Japanese art -- from ceramics and textiles to arms and armor to sculpture and lacquer-ware to painting and calligraphy. It was quite impressive. Toyokan gallery exhibits art and antiquities from other Oriental and Eastern countries. There are extensive Chinese sections, Korean sections, and even displays of items from Egypt, Iraq, Iran, India, and Thailand (and numerous others). The Hyokeikan gallery offers Japanese archaeological objects for display, and this was perhaps my favorite of the three museums -- lots of pottery, clay figurines, bronze works, and various burial items (cinerary urns for cremated ashes, epitaphs (in Japanese), and "haniwa" -- terra-cotta burial ornaments shaped like houses, animals, or people). A person could spend as long as he likes at this museum, and I stayed until closing time approached.
The following day I went to the Tokyo Tourist Information center to plan my final week of touring. Anyone going to Japan should visit this center -- they have information on everything, are extremely friendly, and have a special service for those on a budget. The service is a free reservation desk for a predetermined list of low-priced accommodations called "Welcome Inns". This service is only for touring foreigners and is a great way to save money. I was able to arrange accommodations which cost me half of what I expected, and I was given maps to guide me to each inn (actually, I predominantly booked stays at youth hostels). So, during my last week I will spend about two days in Hiroshima, four days in Kyoto, and a day to return to Tokyo followed by my flight back to the US the following day (September 6). These arrangements took most of the day, and afterwards I pigged out on Turkish "doner" (which is very similar to Arabic sandwiches called "shawarma") at a small Turkish van I located some weeks back.
The following two days (Saturday and Sunday) were uneventful -- people returning from O-Bon made travel inadvisable so I read some more and worked a bit on the paper I was asked to edit. Monday I finished the editing for my host professor, and on Tuesday I visited the Mitsubishi company. At this facility, they were designing the antenna for the VSOP satellite to be launched next year. I have never visited a space development area and it was a wonderful learning experience. The only downside was that the one hour tour of the satellite was followed by a 3 1/2 hour meeting entirely in Japanese. I didn't understand a word of it. Wednesday, I helped meet a new student from Australia, and that evening we had a greeting party for this student combined with a farewell party for myself. I presented the various gifts I brought at this time -- the dream-catchers made by my sister Laura were very popular and everyone enjoyed looking at them (particularly the people I gave them to).
There is a saying in Japanese regarding Mt. Fuji -- "Noboranu baka, nido noboru baka." Loosely translated, this means "there are two kinds of fools: those who never climb and those who climb more than once." My mother didn't raise complete fools so I planned to climb Mt. Fuji on Thursday night with a fellow program participant. I arranged bus reservations to go directly from Shinjuku station to the 5th stage of the mountain -- one of the most popular starting points of the climb and about half way up the mountain. I decided to climb at night so I could reach the summit early enough to see the "goraiko", or "the coming light" (i.e., the sunrise).
At last minute, the person I was to climb with (yet another participant named Paul) decided to take another route -- a fact which didn't really upset me as I prefer to set my own pace and climb alone. I "worked" Thursday (basically filled out survey forms related to the fellowship program), and at 5:30 I headed for Shinjuku. My bus left at 7:30 and it reached the 5th stage of Mt. Fuji by 9:50 in the evening. Approaching Mt. Fuji, you couldn't see the mountain on account of the dark, but you could clearly see the trail going up the mountain on account of the lights glaring from each of the stations along the trail. I bought a walking stick at the 5th station for the "bargain" price of $12 to serve as my souvenir of the climb, and by around 10:05 I began to climb.
Equipped with a mini-mag flashlight (a gift from my sister Heather), I originally wondered if I would have difficulty finding my way in the dark. However, owing to the fact that hundreds of people climb Mt. Fuji using this trail each day, the trail was obvious and I rather think I could have found my way up blind-folded (it would be an interesting experiment). The 5th station has an elevation of about 2,300 meters (about 7,550 feet) so the temperature was pleasantly cool. Fortunately the weather cooperated for my climb, and the night-time stars were very clear (something you can't get in Tokyo). Low clouds diffused the lights of the nearby valley towns, producing the illusion of giant campfires shrouded in mist. It was beautiful.
People describe the climb from "fairly strenuous" to "very hard", so I was anxious to get a good start to ensure I would be at the summit before the morning sunrise. The tour book indicates the climb takes six hours (whether that includes breaks or not, I was unsure). Although I do not consider myself in wonderful shape, I passed about 100 people on my way up the mountain, was passed by no one, and reached the summit at 2:20 in the morning (four and quarter hours) -- gaining 1,471 meters in altitude (4,826 feet). I was tired at the top, but this climb was certainly not among the toughest I have done. In retrospect, I should have climbed slower. The summit was surprising cold and I was surprisingly underdressed. If I had climbed slower, I would have been moving until sunrise and might have stayed warm -- instead, I had to wait over two hours in the dark before the sun rose and I felt like I was going to freeze to death. It was the first time I have been cold since arriving in Japan. Along the way up, I had whichever stations were open brand their stamps on my walking stick (for the "bargain" price of 200 yen per stamp, 300 at the summit). Thus, the six stamps I got cost me about $13. While I would shun any such station or activity on a Wyoming mountain, it seemed in keeping with the Japanese culture and provided a different twist to my mountain experiences.
Around 4:30, the first light of the rising sun could be seen. Shivering, I enjoyed watching this beautiful phenomenon (along with several hundred other climbers). The sunrise was generous payment for the climb up the mountain. After the sunrise, I took a leisurely stroll around the crater area of Mt. Fuji. I contemplated calling someone from the international phones on the top (rumor has it a Family Mart will be built on Fuji sometime in '96), but eventually decided it was morally wrong to support such activities. I also made sure I reached the highest point along the crater, which is 3,776 meters (12,389 feet). There is a temple (of sorts) on the summit along with statues of Buddah and many stones carved with Japanese characters. There is also a post-office at the summit, but I had brought no postcards and think this is almost as bad as the international telephones. From some sides of Fuji, you could see the "unkai", or the "sea of clouds" -- also quite enchanting.
It seems as though most think climbing Fuji more than once is unwise because of the difficulty of the climb and the "ugliness" of the barren lava rock. Neither of these two points would prevent me from climbing Fuji again -- the climb isn't overly exhausting and I find the volcanic lava rock rather interesting. The fact that Mt. Fuji has been unable to escape the carelessness of mankind and has become a polluted garbage pit, however, will prevent me from likely climbing this mountain again. As I have inherited poor knees, the climb down was far worse than the climb up, and at the conclusion of the trip only my knees were appreciably sore. By the time I returned to NAO and had taken care of some errands, it was 10:00 p.m. on Friday night. I had been up over 38 hours straight and basically collapsed into a coma until about 8 or 9 the next morning. Still, it was a memorable and worthwhile trip.
Saturday I relaxed with some intermittent paper shuffling in preparation for my upcoming departure from Japan. Sunday, four of the Monbusho participants and I went to the house of one of our first week's Japanese language instructors. Odagiri-sensei prepared some nice snacks, there was plenty of beer, and we all enjoyed a laid-back afternoon of conversation. The other Japanese teacher, Hiraiwa-sensei, also attended the get together. Odagiri-sensei's house is very Japanese in style -- there is practically no furniture and all the floors are all covered with tatami mats. The group of students, myself included, hit Roppongi (and the Gas Panic Bar, of course) after visiting Odagiri-sensei's house. This time, however, I managed to not only get home, but I avoided injuries requiring a hospital visit as well. Monday I began packing and spent some time writing correspondence. Monday was my last official day at my host institution -- I can't believe how quickly the summer has gone by.
Tomorrow I will go to the US Embassy for lunch followed by a discussion session and farewell party arranged by Monbusho. Wednesday I begin my week of sightseeing by traveling to Hiroshima -- for the details of that part of my trip you will have to wait until I return to the United States. I am looking forward to seeing and talking with everyone when I return to the United States. Until then, take care.
Roger.