FALL COMES TO KASEDA, ACCOMPANIED BY GRIEF

October turned into a most glorious time.  I guess glorious is a word I always associate with the color of autumn leaves, and then those quiet whispers that you almost hear as leaves gently fall to the ground.  Fall, yes, I think it is glorious, with lovely temperatures and blue skies.  It awakened my senses as I rode around the countryside visiting my schools, taking the bus into the city to do a little shopping, or walking around town or riding the bicycle I found locked up at my apartment.  

Once my school day finished I had few responsibilities except to myself.  I found freedom like I had never known.  As soon as I left school,  I would change clothes and head out with my camera and binoculars.  I was out to see what I could find:  birds, flowers and trees and sometimes new friends.  But whatever the final destination, usually my route turned right and took me a mile or so up the street to Takeda Jinja. 

The walk from the shrine to adjoining pond and gardens is this way, up an ancient path of stones.

Stone finally wears down with hundreds of years of wear.  I walked where others had trod barefooted or in rope woven sandals centuries before me.  (This is the site of the grave of Shimadzu Nisshin Kou, dated 1540, and explained further in paragraphs below)

The road follows alongside Takeda Jinja.

Fall was all around but the photos tell the story.  The true glory was at Takeda Jinja with its 500 year old history, the mosses, the worn stone path, the large old trees and the magnificent quiet.  Whenever I came across the priest out on the main open building I would proceed quietly, and watch from afar to grasp some idea of what he might be doing.  Sometimes I caught him in the midst of blessing a new born baby, or waving the stick with white folded papers over a new car.  I assumed this was meant to keep those inside safe on their travels.  

The Torii signifies entrance to the Shinto Shrine and the Shrine itself is up the steps and beyond the stone terrace.  The place to cleanse is to the left of the shrine and then one can say a prayer  in front of the shrine.  Cleansing uses a bamboo dipper and water from a stone basin that is poured over the hands and wiped with your own cloth handkerchief. Properly using the dipper includes holding it up so the water rinses where your hand held the bamboo.  Some also rinse their mouths out.

Guardian figures protect the hallowed grounds.

Kagoshima Ken and Kaseda were ruled by a daimyo beginning in the 12th Century.  This area was governed by the Shimadzu Clan and in the 1500's, this shrine was begun.  This guarded area led back to the grave of Shimadzu Nisshin Kou, and his number three son Nachisa Kou.  Nisshin kou died in 1568.  Some samurai were also buried in the graves here.  This daimyo system led to areas that were protected and good daimyo families, like the Shimadzus, led the people to better agricultural methods, cultural studies like the study of tea ceremony, and valuing each individual's contributions to the betterment of the group, via their ceramics, paintings, writings, etc.

This path goes around the lily-covered pond.

Depending on the season, many lilies bloomed in the pond.

Always I went to the prayer altar, clapping and bowing my head to ask God to look after my family and friends and myself.  I prayed to my God and I always felt him here in this Shinto place.  Thankfully, he answered and took care of us.  Because while Fall  in all its glory came to Kaseda, my first October overseas also brought to full circle the seasons of life as I was called upon to attend two funerals about 3 weeks apart. 

One was for a fellow teacher who had arrived just like I had in August.  She was teaching about 30 miles away and had purchased a motor bike.  She was sadly killed in a very tragic accident, and while I never heard all the details, I always felt it had to do with Japanese driving laws.  They drive on the left side as they do in the U.K.  Even as a pedestrian it was difficult to remember the trick in crossing the street was looking to the right before stepping out into the street. And the slow lane for traffic was on the left.

All available ALTs from Kagoshima Ken, those that could get to the small town from their locations, came for the viewing and to pay respects, shedding tears and openly weeping.  It was most similar to what we have here, a viewing room filled with flowers and seats.  They were filled with many of her schools' teachers, students  and Japanese friends she had made in those two months.

  

There was also a tatami room, a large one, where mourning could take place seated kneeling on the floor, seiza style.  Seiza is painful if you are not accustomed to doing it, it's on the knees, calves and toes behind and back fairly straight.  Children in the old days attended school in this position, sitting on the floor.  Older people in Japan could still do this.  Now, over 25 years later, I don't know if they can.  I couldn't hold the position for very long then, and don't even try it now.

A young and vibrant person had been taken from us and her family; and the shock was that as wonderful as this opportunity was for all of us, we were not invulnerable.  We were all so sorry for the family.  We grieved and could not imagine how this would affect a family thousands of miles away.

After this weekend of tragedy, I walked into my office to find my supervisor anxiously awaiting me.  The ALT that had been a tragic traffic fatality had my same first name. Evidently he had had a period of shock as he thought it had been me.  I was told in NO uncertain terms would I EVER be allowed to buy a motor bike.  I was stunned and also glad for him that I did not want one, so I could comply.  At my age I wasn't used to hearing such orders.  But the underlying order was totally cultural and coming from a kind heart.  He cared about me, and he was responsible for overseeing my well being.

Just weeks later I got another phone call.  A member from our office that no one had told us about had lost his long battle with cancer.  The office lady calmly but firmly told me that Brian and I must attend the funeral service.  I tried to protest because Brian was a couple of hundred miles away for the weekend so I would be alone on this official representation.  I did not want to do anything that could badly reflect on our office, our program or myself.

This would be a very formal affair, and although I had been to see a viewing for a fellow teacher with so many of the other foreign teachers, for the funeral  I would have to dress formally in all black, find my way to a Buddhist Temple somewhere in the city and be aware of the formalities that needed to be observed.  I felt inept to handle it all, but Tomomi san was firm, and said she would sit with me and tell me every step that I would need to take.   But most of the time we would just need to sit and listen.  I had to call Nancy to borrow a black blazer, and I set out to do what needed to be done.

After all, I was glad that I had attended.  Although I had nothing to really do but be present, my presence made the office numbers complete. All were there to show respect and grieve.  My supervisor came to me as the formalities ended, bowed and asked me to accompany him.  I was surprised because he took me straight to the casket where we bowed and had  a moment of silence.  I didn't know this person, but I did not need to speak the language to see the love and respect his fellow workers had for him.  Not only the education board was there but so were all the wives.  He was more than a co-worker. They had lost someone that was like family to them.   Now I understood better.  If I came, there would be no questions about why I was not there.  My supervisor could grieve, and not have to answer questions about me, and Brian was also spared from questions that I had answered for him

Though Fall proved to be glorious, it was also a reflective time about why I was there and what was most important.  That's usually pretty easy for me - family.  I had enough money and sent it home so that my older son could get a ticket to visit over the Christmas and New Year holidays, while he would be on break from college.  He surprised me by saying he was bringing his girl friend.  I placed some very large stars on my calendar and forgot about counting to the one year deadline when I would return home.  Now I could just count down to Christmas.  

BETWEEN TWO MOUNTAINS WHERE THE RIVER MEETS THE SEA

In Kai Hin Koen looking toward Nomadake.

                         Between two mountains,
                     Where the river meets the sea,
                         There you will find me. 

     On a park road near my favorite old tree, I would always stop for my favorite view of Sunset Bridge and Kinposan, the mountain with 3 peaks.

If a short burst of freedom took me to Takeda Jinja,  I always came to the ocean if I had more time.  It was a 20 minute bus ride with stops.  And once I had to walk back by mistake, not realizing a bus schedule was different on the weekend.  After that bit of torture,  I started to go by bicycle.  It was 6-7 miles one way and the ride was mostly through rice fields, some small homes and along the river the rest of the way.  This entire area by the sea was a sanctuary for me, as well as the migrating birds that came to winter from Siberia and China.  

We ALTs went alone or with each other and we took our new friends that came to visit from other places around Kagoshima and beyond.  We discovered a very large, well-landscaped, and well-planned park called Kai Hin Koen (seaside park).   One focal point was Sunset Bridge from the mainland to a small island that had, I felt just for me, a small building with scopes overlooking a wading pool in the river where the migrant black-faced spoonbills spooned and dipped for fish along the bottom.  

Kinposan was the mountain looking east from the park, and it had 3 rounded peaks.  Looking west was Nomadake, with one graceful peak.  These two mountains, both dormant volcanoes,  were well known from any direction and when I saw them from the bus, I would know I was getting close to home.  At some point, probably later in my visit, that lovely, simple apartment became home and, with these surroundings, I can still see why.  The river was the Manose, coming from the Kawanabe Cho area, winding through farmlands mostly.  It emptied into the East China Sea.  It was a picturesque place, obviously, but I found peace there.  

I also found Japanese birding friends, who spoke no English, but quickly warmed to me when they saw the binoculars and a Japanese bird book in English, with the same format and pages they had in their book.  They would find a bird, motion for me to come over and have it already sighted on really good quality spotting scopes.  Then we would compare notes and photos in our books.  I looked for them whenever I went, and I felt they looked for me also.

There was a certain area where the black-faced (white bodied) spoonbills came every winter from Siberia, a small flock of 20 or so that drew lifers here to record their sightings since they were considered very rare.  But there were also herons and cranes and other smaller birds that had their fair share of the attention.  I was at home here, with or without the language.

Later in our stay here, our friend, Arimura San would bring many of us here to look for large sea turtles laying their eggs along the beach.  He would catalog the visits, the number of nests and estimate the numbers of eggs from year to year.  I was able to see the baby turtles once, but only the tracks of the mothers laying the eggs.   Especially in nature, timing is everything.

The park also had large areas of formally planted areas with hundreds of azaleas blooming in spring.

Nancy, with Richard, a Canadian who taught in Chiran for a private school.  He had his own car and could drive us over to the park.
Nancy, Brigid from the exotic island Amami Oshima, and Evelyn.

Although some of the photos might have been taken later, this is what we found when we went for any activity:  beauty, nature, wading birds, and many other people from near and far enjoying the same things we were.  They came to fish, to clam, to walk and to picnic.

 

  This seemed so like home, an outing to go fishing with Richard.

Casting, like riding a bike, is something you don't forget.  And like many fishing expeditions, we came up empty.

My ALT friends and I liked this photo.  It indicated the nomadic lifestyle we seemed to have embraced, not quite sure how we ended up here, and not at all sure where we would wander next.

    Sunsets don't get any better than this!

The Manose River flows under Sunset Bridge to the East China Sea.

While August had been a rough month to adjust, eight weeks later with places like this, I found myself settling in to a comfortable pace, going places that I would learn to love, with people that I enjoyed.  I didn't fully realize it, yet, because I was still counting down to the end of July of the coming summer when I could leave Japan and return home.

A NEW LIFESTYLE BEGINS, AS SEEN THROUGH THE LENS

My life as it began in Japan was posted in my blog starting a few months ago in April, 2014.  I could not really make those posts complete without trying to give visual aids from my photos.  I am going to caption photos referring to those early posts and those first days of culture shock now that I have a scanner, and play a bit of catch up of the sights between end of July '94 through September '94.

Some of the people central to my new world and the sights around Kaseda will be the most featured, but also the awesome East China Sea and surrounding sights outside of town will give my readers the grand scheme of things.  I hope you enjoy these photos and don't mind that the writings will be brief.

The office members that were waiting for me with a sign with my name on it in the Kagoshima Airport, on a dark and lonely night.  I would find them caring, kind, hilariously funny, formal when required and only the office lady spoke English.  We were all very happy and thankful for that.

 

Tanaka san had a boyish smile that lit up the room, and played a mean game of volleyball.

  

 Ishizono San, my immediate supervisor, close to my age, yet father-like in caring, alternately stern, kind and not always sure what to do with me!   And beautiful, smart and English speaking Tomomi san, a life saver for all of us with her skills and poise in tough situations.

 
My best friend Tazuko san took us to the SandCraft Festival and was the first to show us how close we were to the ocean and large, beautiful Kai Hin Koen (seaside park), a place we would all visit over and over again .

The private former samurai residence I entered, mistaking it for Takeda Jinja (shrine.)   I left, embarrassed, as soon as I saw laundry hanging on a line to dry.

There was no mistaking the real Takeda Jinja.  There were at least a couple of acres of grounds and several buildings, and all were filled with the sense of hundreds of years of history and thousands of souls that had walked its paths before me.   

 The main shrine (Honden) for ceremonies and prayer in the middle with basins filled with water on either side to cleanse hands before prayers.

             An administration building for the shrine is above.

 The tombstone of the wife of the leader of the Shimadzu clan which ruled this area in the 1700's.  My research leads me to believe the shrine is about 500 years old, but the Shimadzu clan began to rule as early as the late 1100's.  Samurai rule with clans ruling various areas of the country ended in the mid 1800's.

    A field of soba (buckwheat) will be harvested to make noodles

 A power mower made to cut rice.  Fields were planted in mid-April and harvested in mid-August.  Some were small enough to be cut by hand or with shared harvesters like this one.

The cuttings of the rice plants are hung to dry and then the rice seeds are processed and bagged for a fee in self operated booths along the road that look like our old telephone booths. Of course, all the grocers sell all kinds of rice in bags in the store as well.

These photos are a few of so many that I took to keep my memories.  The next post will be filled with the ocean and the mountains that soothed and healed me when I was lonely, made me smile more when I was happy, and pulled me out to the fresh air every single moment, in rain or cold or heat to become strong and healthy, satisfied with myself, and happy with those around me.  I  just wish I had written this all sooner, could have made the profits they have made from "Eat, Pray, Love"!  And been portrayed by Julia Roberts to boot!