Homestay in Paradise

Last weekend, I visited the most beautiful city in the world.

But I forgot my camera. =)


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Actually, I don't mind that I forgot my camera, because I'm sure that the memories were made stronger with the knowledge that I may never see Bungotakada City ever again. The landscape was incredible - it had a little bit of everything. In this tiny farm city on the western coast of Kyushuu, where the tectonic plates molded the mountains into a unique range of vertical pillars, the ocean salt corroded the rock beach into a dreamscape of crystal-clear water and misshapen earth, and the tropical rain coated every sunbathed surface in a lush layer of green, reality seems to border a dream world.

I wonder if the rest of Japan I haven't seen yet is all this beautiful, too.

This past weekend, our class was split into groups of 3 or 4, and we traveled to farm country to stay in real Japanese homes with real Japanese families. The university life is a little bit deluding - APU's student body is probably only about 70% native Japanese. Yes, this weekend was the real deal.

With three other friends, I arrived at a house which was everything you would expect in a traditional Japanese residence - Tatami floors, a low-sitting dinner table, a shrine area, the works. We exchanged greetings with Itai-san and his wife. They were in their mid 50s, and already grandparents. The first event of the day was a hearty lunch of homemade shitake mushroom curry. When I say homemade, I mean, Itai san and his wife grew the rice, picked the mushrooms, and made the curry sauce from scratch themselves. Impressive as it sounds, it was the best curry I've every had. And with the amount of curry I've eaten since arriving in Japan, that's a respectable title.

Curry is probably my favourite food in Japan. One would think that a residence in Japan would come with a diet of sushi for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but to be honest, I've only had sushi a handful of times so far. Curry is my gig here. It comes anywhere from sweet to spicy, it comes over rice with beef, fried pork, or baked into loaves of bread, mirroring the composition of a Paczki. It comes in soup, thickening up the broth of udon or soba noodles, or sometimes just on its own as a hot, bubbling brown bowl of goodness. It's one that will be sorely, sorely missed when I'm back in the States.

Anyway.

After lunch, we went on a tour of all the most beautiful spots in the city. The first spot was a long strip of land that barricaded a reservoir of water, which was opened little by little during the dry season to keep the crops nice and genki. The reservoir itself was very large, and the surface still. It backed up against a huge mountain, which stuck on one side vertically out of the earth. This side of the mountain was all stone grey, and was framed by the green vegetation covering the rest of the land around it. On the other side of this long bunker was a clear view of the residential area of the city. The view was wonderful in every direction.

Next stop was a campground on a peninsula, which overlooked the ocean between Kyushuu and Honshuu. The water, unsullied by factories or pollutants of any kind, was so clear, you could see through all the way to the bottom. There was nothing cloudy at all in the water, it was really amazing. We hopped down the rocky cliffs, through a series of tidal pockets crawling with tiny crabs and small hordes of little, fast-moving crustaceans, to the edge of the water, where there were several jellyfish hanging out near the rocks. The most amazing part of this area was the work the sea salt did on corroding the cliffs. There were a few huge caves on the inner side, as well as a tall island just offshore that looked a little like a mushroom atop a turtle shell. You could see the lines in the rock of where the high tide picks away at the rock. On top of the mushroom island were several fully grown trees - it was really surreal. Some of the things I've seen in Bungotakada, and Beppu, too, are works of nature that I never even considered possible.

Growing up in Michigan - flat, foresty, same from east to west Michigan - has made me appreciate nature a lot each time I leave home. Last year on the way to the International Trumpet Guild conference in Pennsylvania was the first time I ever really saw mountains. Then when I went to New York City for the Le Poisson Rouge concert, I passed through the same route of mountains, this time red and orange from the season change, and they were still as fascinating as the first time. The mountains here, however, are on a completely different level. Even though I forgot my camera, pictures couldn't do the landscape any more justice than words. All platitudes aside, you had to be there.

Dinner that night was plate after plate after plate of some of the best food I've ever tasted. A bowl of udon noodles, topped with freshly picked vegetables with names I cannot recall, tenpura everything - eggplant, green peppers, more nameless vegetables, white fish caught by the cooks themselves, clusters of [whole] shrimp, America-reminiscent fried chicken, iced noodles served with iced Tsuyu... and all the tea and vegetable juice I could wash it down with. I love food, and Japan is a good place for food.

After we all finished gorging ourselves, and spacing for about 10 minutes to let the food settle, we took a trip to the onsen for some naked time. Onsen are one of my favourite things about Japan - it's a bath house filled by a natural hot spring, will several pools of varying temperatures, usually one cold and a few hot. This particular onsen also had an outdoor segment, with a small garden and a music-playing speaker, and steam room, that ran on a gradual cycle between "hot" and "the sun".

Japanese cultural lecture time!
日本の文化話時！(Takes up less space and is therefore the superior language) (just kidding)

Onsen are a particular specialty of Beppu and the surrounding areas. They are common because of the Pacific ring of fire, the rim of a large tectonic plate covering the pacific ocean, is responsible for the creation of Japan, and its volcanic activity still has a lot of say in what goes on over here.

Anyway.

Japanese people like to take baths in these hot spring waters, as they bubble up with plenty of beneficial minerals that soften the skin and leave you looking about 75% your age. My host parents said they went to this onsen literally every day. So here's a rundown of the typical onsen itinerary:
- Men and women are separated into locker rooms. Onsen are always sex-segregated because you have to get all the way naked to enter the waters. Swimsuits are not allowed (but there are co-ed onsens, usually outdoors, that allow swimsuits).
- Strip to your birthday suit, and go into the main room, which contains some shower "booths" before getting to the pools. You have to shower and clean yourself all the way, shampoo and soap and all, before you get in. They're serious about keeping the water clean. This is pretty strange for Americans I think, since in America, naked is "bad".
-When you're clean, you can enter the baths. I like to chill in a medium-hot pool for a little bit, and just relax, let my body temperature rise like I'm in a hot tub. Then, after a while, I like to hit up the hottest bath, and stay in until I can't take it. When your body temperature is up over its usual limit, the cold bath feels amazing. Apparently, the hot water and steam makes your pores open and sweat out all the obstructions. When you enter the cold water, your pores, now clean and clear, close back up. The steam bath helps this even more.

So when you leave an onsen, your entire body's skin feels like a baby's bottom. Even my big nose with its dirt-magnet pores were completely smooth. I will sincerely miss this when returning to America. The naked thing is no big deal, either. Everybody has a naked body, so once you're in, that's that. Unlike in America, there is no constant worry of appearing "gay" here. Guys can get naked and take a bath together, buy pink shirts and pink phone cases, adults can watch cartoons, it's all done with no homo strings attached, it feels like there is a whole level of unnecessary social apprehension gone because of it. I like this.

We slept soundly in traditional Japanese beds that night, and were awakened to the smell of a breakfast that was almost as huge as the previous night's dinner. Then we prepared for a pretty exciting performance, which will be covered...

In my next entry. I need to give Becky a chance to write about the past week's elementary school visit, which I regrettably missed after arriving at the bus stop at the wrong time. She has a lot to say about the kiddies, and will also cover the new Hayao Miyazaki movie that we just saw at the theatre today. Stay tuned, and LEAVE COMMENTS!