SCHOOL TRIP TO A RYOKAN IN THE KIRISHIMA MOUNTAINS

A few days later Ishizono San came to me and with Tomomi’s help explained I was going for a 3 day outing to the Kirishima Mountains with about 20 students from the English Club at one of my assigned high schools.  We were going on the bus along with a few teachers and a vice principal to a ryokan (Japanese Inn) in a scenic area about 3 hours from Kaseda.   At last, an out of the office adventure, and I would get to meet some teachers and some students.   Another school was also sending a bus of students and teachers from a nearby town and another ALT from the UK would also be there.  I had met Mark briefly.  He was very witty, had fluent Japanese and was good friends with Brian.  

We had a noisy ride and the students were all in high spirits.  The scenery was wonderful; we rode past rice fields and climbed into mountains with cedar and pine trees, finally arriving at an old but lovely inn.  I managed a misstep soon after entering and felt like I got hammered as a result of Japanese culture. 

In Japan most entrances (genkan) to homes or old shops have a step up into the main level.  The lower entry is where everyone leaves their shoes.  The hotel actually had slippers that you slid into when you left your shoes, neatly lined up in a row.  I knew about this already, but in the case of the hotel entry, the step up was only about an inch and not that obvious.  I was studying a pretty heron sculpture, and as I walked toward it fell off the one inch step. I went down hard for some weird reason, perhaps the slippers, and I swore I broke a bone in the bottom of my foot.  It left me limping, not only throughout the trip to the ryokan, but for months later. 

(At the doctor’s office the next week a technician took 7 x-rays, then I asked to put on the lead vest hanging in the corner.  He took 4 more and they never found any evidence of a fracture.  They gave me a soft wrap cast which I wore for months, and since I still had to keep walking to the office and later to school, it didn’t seem to heal.  Fractured or not, I still get pain in the same spot during cold, damp weather.)

At the ryokan we had a meeting and introductions, some pleasant exchanges in English and then a bit of free time to explore the inn before dinner.  Dinner that first evening included many small dishes, with lots of food I did not recognize. Again there was a full variety of small dishes of foods from the mountain and the sea. Every meal in Japan usually includes a bowl of rice. We were all seated on the tatami floor, and everyone was talking at once.  It was quite pleasant, though I was not enjoying miso soup with tofu.  Back then tofu wasn’t that common, especially in the eastern U.S., and I had never tasted it. But I loved the thin steak served on a sizzling flat stone. It was perfect.

The first evening’s entertainment took me by surprise, and it will be detailed in the next post, Moonlight on Shoji.

Breakfast the next morning was also a feast by Japanese standards, miso soup with tofu and wakame (seaweed), salad, pickled napa cabbage and daikon radish, sauces, eggs and bacon which was served sizzling on a hot stone, and what I would call a “dead fish”.  It was grilled in a perfectly curved arch, gutted but otherwise whole and at 7:30 a.m. it was staring back at me.  At least it was cooked, but I really don’t start my mornings with things that look back.

We began with a short English class and then went to Shinwa no Sato a nearby amusement park,  with mini golf, grass skiing, some arts and craft activities, shops, food booths and a small restaurant.  Some of the students asked me to join them (at the teacher’s urging) to make a bowl on the pottery wheels.  Three of us worked on the wheels together, and others watched and waited for their turns.  More chatter and laughter made for a pleasant afternoon.  Some students were outside using the slope provided for grass skiing, and they had a great time.

                                               The slope used for grass skiing.

 

 

 Yukio, one of a few students brave enough to approach me and use her English skills.

 

Kinyo was also brave and friendly. 

I was invited to join the vice principal, the teachers and Mark for a drink on the second evening in the teacher’s room, as we would board the bus after breakfast in the morning.  I assumed that this evening the boys in the English Club would use the outdoor onsen.  We all wore yukata, a kind of casual cotton kimono and sat on the tatami floor.  I didn’t understand what was being said, but I understood I was probably being observed and assessed.  I also began to understand that despite all of the formalities, especially with mostly older male teachers and the vice principal, a stern group to be sure, the warmth and friendliness of sitting on the floor in yukata eased any tensions for all of us. 

The only female teacher that accompanied us did not join us for this, so perhaps she would not have been comfortable in the group and in the yukata. There were more divisions along gender than I was able to grasp so early on, but they would become more apparent the longer I stayed. I recognized, maybe not exactly at that moment, but in coming weeks, that joining in was the best thing I could do, not whether I could do it well, but just show up and keep smiling, and attempt some Japanese.  Emotionally and mentally it would be the best thing for me, too.