DANCING IN THE STREETS - KAGOSHIMA'S OHARA MATSURI

Kagoshima sponsors the Ohara Matsuri (festival) in early November, and it has been holding this festival for over 60 years.  It is famous nationally for the sheer numbers involved as well as for the colorful dancing.  The long course runs through the main street on a wide boulevard down one direction, then turning around and coming back to the start repeating the process for a few hours, over and over on the same street.   Twenty thousand, yes, that is 20,000, dancers belonging to groups from all over Japan come to dance in kimono, hapi coats or costumes.  (Think Rose Bowl Parade in Pasadena California for comparison).  The music for this festival is a very old folk song or two about old time activities when the rice planting was harvested or the miners' day was done.  Performers, over 20,000 dancers and some taiko drum teams, parade down the wide picturesque boulevard which is planted with many flowers, and keep dancing from about 10:00 a.m. until 4:00 p.m.  

The ALTs were invited to participate in a group for the event, along with any other interested gaijin (foreigners) in the ken. Shawn, an ALT then based north of the city in the Kirishima Mountains, was going to teach the ALT's the routine and lead them through the parade.  She had spent her first two years on Tanegashima, an island close to southern Kagoshima and the location of Japan's space program. 

Never one to pass up a dance, I decided to join in.  Nancy also wanted to join in, and we had Richard come along from a neighboring town,Chiran, where he taught in a private school.  Shawn gave us a practice session, the steps and arm movements imitated the volcano, growing plants and digging rice fields, or something to that effect, and she performed them quite gracefully.  We did our best but we all took turns flailing the wrong arm or turning the wrong direction at times.  Eventually,  we came together most of the time, but never quite got near the grace we would see in the other groups, who had, of course, practiced for years.  But again, our prowess was not going to be judged here.  We simply had to show up and show that we cared about their event, and that we were interested in this culture that was new to us.  For that small gift to them and a few hours of dancing tirelessly and not necessarily gracefully, we were loved.

Gungho Gaijin ready to hit the streets dancing!  The group represented the U.S., Canada and England.

This is how the dance begins.....

Many groups came from all over Japan to perform, and they wore beautiful kimono and elaborate obi (waistbands) or wonderful hats, or some sort of coordinated costumes, and the men usually wore hapi coats with their groups name across the back.  Our ALT group would also wear hapi coats in blue with dark pants.  The Japanese performers would wear tabi (socks with toes).  Other than Shawn who also wore the tabi, the rest of us ALT's would mostly wear our standards, something by which I could always identify an ALT, tennis shoes with shoestrings. 

Japanese rightly wear slip-ons, or loafer type shoes as they step out of them gracefully whenever they enter their homes or someone else's home.  The ALT's bend over, butt up, trying to get their shoes untied to remove them, and then take an extra couple of minutes, butt up, trying to get them back on.  Yet we ALT's resisted the easier shoes, and stuck with those shoestrings.

So, I mentioned there would be 20,000 dancers, didn't I?  Well, that's more than ten times as many people in my hometown in the U.S.  And if there were 20,000 dancers, there must have been 500,000 there to watch us.  (I looked up this festival and these are the true figures, no exaggeration.)  It was a big, big day for Kagoshima. ( Kagoshima City's population is over 600,000.)

Groups are lining up.  The matsuri is about to begin.

The dancing groups were in rows of 6 or more abreast as we lined up that day and started dancing.  We, about 10 or 12 of us,  looked a little, well, foreign, in our hapi coats, some gangly guys, some women with a bit of color on our cheeks,  some of us short or tall or blond or dark.  Yes, definitely the foreigners.  But we came to have fun and we did.  I have no idea how many times we went around the long oval course of about 1 mile over those few hours.  We went around many times, and sometimes out of the crowd someone would step forward with a tray of sake in little cups.  I really wanted WATER.  And I understand that now they offer water, but this was in the old days, 20 years ago.  I simply had to endure.

A colorful group gets lots of attention.

I just love the hats!

In addition to the crowd and volunteers occasionally offering sake, one man jumped out to take pictures, right in front of ME!  He was smiling and saying something, but I couldn't make out a single word.  Between the music, noise of the crowd, and just trying to follow Shawn's actions in front of me, I could not have understood him if I did speak the language.  We went around the course again, and the same man jumped out at me again.  It was almost funny, but after the 3rd, 4th and 5th time I was getting somewhere between annoyed and paranoid.  Finally, he must have left, and I forgot all about him.

Until I returned to my assigned day at Kaseda High School, and the man suddenly appeared in front of me again in the teachers' room.  So, after all that, he was a teacher at my base high school.  I sat at desks in a row with the English teachers, while he sat somewhere behind in other rows of desks for a total of about 35 to 40 teachers.  I could see why I had not recognized him.  

He had gone to the Ohara Matsuri, then was suddenly surprised to see his school's ALT dancing there.  He must have been pretty shocked, but he happily preserved that day and handed me a packet of the photos he took.  I am pretty sure he had shown them to all the teachers before I came to the school that week.  Because as I looked around the teachers' room, all I saw were approving smiles.  Now I understood why he had kept jumping out at me!  What a nice surprise, and I have the pictures to remember that day even now. 

Only four more hours to go!

I learned a couple of important things during these early days.  One is that what we did was seen by others, and, like a small town, our actions were reported on and shared.  The impressions we made would stand us in good stead if we acted responsibly and courteously to others.  Also, although I didn't understand the photographer, he turned out to be a very kind person.  I would find more and more goodness in my life in Japan like this, and I learned to apply that to the rest of my life.  Simple kindness, one on one, led me along my journey in Japan, and I discovered a belief to live by.  Kindness is the same in any culture.  It doesn't require translation.

 

This photo is copied from this link which contains a brief description and history of the festival. It shows the width of the boulevard, the city of Kagoshima, and some of the dancers.  One side of the street is coming toward the photographer and the other side is going in the opposite direction.   https://ohmatsuri.com/en/articles/kagoshima-ohara-matsuri

You can find more of the Ohara Matsuri from various years at these websites.

wonderful youtube clip: 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mz6sSpqaH_k

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tiV19xDSi2k

 with Taiko drummers
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DNy6IgJaNjQ  

Also, to all readers, please consider leaving me a comment.  Do you like reading this?  Have you read the other posts, or are you a first time reader?  I would love to hear from you.  Also, since there is a Google translator, please leave your comment in your native language, if you feel you can express yourself better that way.  Thank you!

FESTIVALS IN KASEDA

Previously, I mentioned a Kaseda Matsuri or festival, with much food and dancing and all the local families coming out to celebrate and meet their friends, just like a fireman's carnival in the states.  The festivals were held on the street right below my apartment so I was always aware that something would be going on, and I would be right in the middle of it.

On this early Saturday morning in September the hammering woke me up before 8.  I looked outside, and it appeared they were building a large, shallow rectangular pool.  I assumed they were making a wading area for the children.  I had early on observed the Japanese loved their children and grandchildren.  I went about my chores and didn't pay much attention outside.  I had wash to do and cleaning, and the usual weekend tasks.  Suddenly I heard shrieking and screaming and had to run to the windows to peek outside.  

Well, it was a shallow wading pool, but its purpose was not just for the kiddies.  Instead, farm-raised sea eels had been released into the pool.  Then the kids went in and caught them.  Their catch could be taken home and eaten.  Silly me!  I really had to remember that in Japan I was truly a tabla rosa, a blank slate and I knew nothing even when I thought I had it all figured out.  The eel pool was a great big success, and parents and kids were happy about it.  I was glad I had observed it from a distance, as I am not a big fan of live eels.  But I have eaten unagi, the eel that is served with a thick, heavy teriyaki sauce, and I am a fan of that.  If you put sugar and soy sauce on just about anything, it becomes edible.
 
Once school started,, some of the students were not so shy.  They knew where may apartment was and they had met me in their classes.  A friendly student named Tomomi came up the steps and got me to go downstairs an hour or so after all the fun in the pool had ended.  

We got in line with another student, her friend, Shian, and I got my first matsuri  (festival) dancing lessons.  Everyone was joining into the groups of practiced dancers and having fun.  I didn't feel like a foreigner doing this.  I had to remind myself again that this was a unique experience and to keep it for my memory bank.  But I fit in to a group of people of all ages having fun in the sun.  

If little kids can do the dance, I should be able to learn it, too.

"We start out like this....." ( My apartment is right behind me.)

Tomomi and another student, the fellow in the white pants, Shian, taught me the basics.  Tomomi lent me her hapi coat.

We then checked out the food booths.  No funnel cakes here, but something like them though not sweet called takoyaki were available.  They bake little muffins in small pans and inside each little muffin is a piece of tako (octopus).  They are a little chewy and can be found at festivals and roadside stands, similar to  hot dog stands.

But we went to a Tako on a Stick booth and ordered that instead.  They were cooked in teriyaki sauce and put on a stick.  Look out corn dogs!   Chewy, but like I said, sugar and soy sauce and I could eat it.  It wasn't bad at all.  If you go to live in a foreign place, you need to try to rid yourself of the "ick" factor.  You will have a much better time, although everyone has their limits.  One of the Kagoshima specialties was tori sashimi, raw chicken.  Even though I lived there for 4 years, I would never try it.

Tomomi and I eat Tako on a stick.  It's chewy, but quite good!

A tip on learning to read Japanese.  The top 4 symbols say Ka Se Da Shi  which means Kaseda City.  The symbols are written in hiragana characters.  The characters below are written in kanji.  It is very difficult to read Japanese because you need about 2,000 kanji characters to read the newspaper.  Highly educated academics need to be able to read 4,000 kanji.   Hiragana is an easier way to write all the separate sounds in Japanese, without using the pictorial like symbols taken from the Chinese characters.  Hiragana has over 200 symbols, which I learned to read while I was there, although I still didn't know the meanings of most words after I put the sounds together.  I only ever conquered a little over 200 kanji and remained basically illiterate the entire 4 years I was there.  

The six symbols in red say Ka se da Ma tsu ri in hiragana.

I studied the hiragana not only from books but by going to karaoke and reading the words while the others sang.  TV news and maps for weather helped with kanji, which then enabled me to use the bus and train system, as I could identify the cities names.  Of course, reading labels at the store finally helped me understand why the beef did not taste like beef in the US.  Half the time I was buying a pork and beef mix.

Some words use a mix of hiragana and kanji, so I could only read some of the syllables.  It was a huge challenge and while it was a barrier, I loved when I read something!  My first attempts were signs hanging in front of stores.  I don't know how many times I read ta ba ko (tobacco) to some disgust, since I have never used it.  But soon I could read un a gi, unagi (eel), so I was learning if ever so slowly.  There are also another set of symbols called kana, also over 200 in number.  I could also read all of these.  They are used to express foreign words, like ar bei to, from arbeit meaning work in German and arbeito was used for part time work.  If this sounds confusing, good!  It totally was.  Especially when the Japanese would know the word was a foreign one and they would expect me to recognize/translate it even though it could have been French or German, as in the case of arbeito.

From then on, if I was in town and there was a festival on the street below, I made it a habit to attend.  I was meeting enough people through school and at the restaurants and through the original friends, and Nancy and Brian that I could run into people and exchange greetings and have a reasonably good time even though I went out on my own.

My apartment was on the corner, second floor, of the building on the left, which gave me a bird's eye view of the street activities.

This is actually at a later matsuri.  I have my own hapi coat now.  I look happier because  I have confidence from dancing in the huge Ohara Matsuri in Kagoshima, which will be my very next blog post, and coming very soon.

Around this same time Nancy had started taking me to some of her adult evening classes that were in her list of duties.  These were women and a few men who were closer to my age and we could share conversation about  a lot of things we had in common.

Nancy was fluent in Japanese, but I could still add some ideas and lots of laughs with my hand motions if nothing else.  Some of these people became our best friends and would have us over to their houses often throughout our stay, to meet friends, enjoy a holiday, or to pass a cold winter's night with a hot pot of wonderfully cooked foods.  

I have never taken to a lot of the sashimi or raw foods, and one of my favorite memories was at one of these home parties, when I mentioned I wouldn't eat the raw oysters.  But I said I liked them fried.  I was sorry I mentioned that, in one way.  The hostess, Junko, couldn't move to the kitchen fast enough, while with another 10 or more guests coming, she quickly made some of the best fried oysters I ever ate, just for me.  I really had not meant that she should do that, and I still feel guilty that she went to the trouble.

However, I started getting used to a pattern here.  I might feel like I fit in; but I was different and I would always be a foreigner, especially in this rural area.  However, they wanted me to like them, their culture and their country, and, therefore, they would jump over hoops even though I didn't need them to do that to make me happy.  Sooner or later, a lot of us ALTs really liked this celebrity status they gave us so happily.   We did not realize at that time that we  would have reverse culture shock when we returned home.  In our own countries we would not really be that special any more.

"TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH, YOU GIVE ME A MIGRAINE."

As the beginning weeks of September and October passed, I had finally visited all of my assigned schools and met most of my Japanese teachers of English.   Three high schools were my chief postings, and my home based school was Kaseda High School which was a highly competitive academic school where students were expected to enter college.  

Another high school, Makurazaki Suisan, was at the south end of Kyushu Island a 30 minute or so ride from my apartment and also on the sea.  The students here studied maritime related courses and fisheries.  Fish farming, marine biology, radio communications and all things related to ships at sea were studied here, but college educations were not expected to be pursued, although those who wished to pursue more technology could remain here another year beyond the 3rd year of high school.  At Kasasa High School students were expected to assume clerical and blue collar career paths. It was near the sea as well, about 45 minutes along a beautiful seaside route.

I had 2 junior high schools that I visited twice a month, so I spent two full days a month in each.  Oura Jr. High School was to the west, not as far as Kasasa High School and just across the street from the East China Sea.  Kawanabe Junior High School was east in the middle of farm country where the crops were rice, squash, daikon radish, and tea.  The main animals raised were chicken and pigs.

I would often see trucks with 2 level trailers and slats for air so that the large pigs were easily visible when they passed. Pork is a very important part of the diet and it was really prepared so many delicious ways.  But another ALT who had a motorbike mentioned the smells were terrible if you got behind one.  As many times as I had seen them, I had never thought  about that.  But afterwards, every time I saw a truck loaded with pigs, I was glad I was not on a bike behind it.

Another sight along my seaside bus routes to the schools were to see hundreds of fish lying on horizontally stretched nets all freshly caught and spread out to dry.  Dried fish were another part of the diet not just to eat whole but to flavor other dishes the way we use beef or chicken broth.

All of my bus rides to the schools outside of Kaseda were filled with lovely scenery.  I would arrive at all of them feeling relaxed and glad to have the opportunity to see rice fields, tea fields, bamboo forests and especially the views of the sea.  This would be my mindset when I arrived at Kasasa High School.

Unfortunately, many of the teachers that I worked with had so much more responsibility that they were not always in a relaxed state and were instead quite stressed.  Their thoughts on the day that I arrived were probably more along the lines of "Boy, and I have to put up with the English teacher today on top of everything else."

Only a couple of my teachers were really comfortable speaking with me from the first time we met.  Some were waiting to judge my character a bit before speaking with me.  That might sound strange, but a few months after I started, one teacher I finally got to know quite well told me that some of the other teachers had been very lazy, didn't like the job and came and sat in silence, bringing books to read and shutting themselves off completely.  That would have been impossible for a chatterbox like me, and, eventually, I had some of the best conversations I would ever have in those 4 years with that teacher.

Some of my teachers were in their 20's but some of my older teachers were in their late 60's.  These teachers had retired in some cases, but had been called back in for long term substitute positions.  One of these had great English, a wonderful smile, hiked up mountains and still jogged often, including 10K runs.  However, the other teacher who had been pulled out of retirement was older still,  and was out at Kasasa Sr. High School.  He was very much from the old way of teaching, using only reading and writing.  This was so common throughout Japan that it was the main reason the JET Program was introduced:  to bring in native speakers and let the students and the teachers become more comfortable speaking it.  He knew the subject thoroughly, had vast knowledge of the vocabulary and grammar and structure.  But especially n the more rural areas, there was simply no access to native English speakers, and no need to develop listening or speaking skills.

 Thus, while he seemed like such a kind man, it was very clear he was uncomfortable speaking with me.  He came from the city and was on a long term contract because the regular teacher was studying in Arizona on an exchange.  He had not even been in the classroom for a few years so he was very much surprised to find that he also had to have me at his side in the classroom twice a month.  This poor sensei only had to put up with me for part of a year but it became clear it was not easy for him.  I wasn't really catching on to that until one day he rubbed his furrowed brow and said, "To tell the truth, you give me a migraine headache."

I wasn't expecting that and I smiled weakly and said, "Of course, I understand."  (While to myself I thought, "And to tell you the truth, starting with my dad and brothers and quite a few others, you wouldn't be the first, nor would you be the last man I gave a migraine headache.")  But in his case, he seemed so helpless, kind and also so innocent that I went home with a heavy burden determined not to be a stress he could not bear, if only twice a month.  

So, I had to wait two weeks, but I tried to speak very slowly, and not as much.  I tried to find out what he liked.  That made a huge difference because we found out we both loved to watch birds, especially the herons and water birds that came to our area.  And we loved flowers and scenery.  Pretty soon the English was not an obstacle; it was a shared conversation we both looked forward to, and it became a friendship.

It would be this sensei that arranged for me to study flower arranging with the Ikebana Club teacher, a one on one lesson, and I only paid for the flowers and a couple of tools. (The time I spent with her also released him for an hour to himself.)  He was also the one that took me to the Tea Ceremony Club (Sado) to be very formally served our green macha (a tea reserved for the ceremony).  We were served on tatami mats by the girls illustrating their study of Japanese culture and the way of tea.  

    The Sado Club with Mitsushige Sensei (right).

     I loved that the schools had formal tatami areas (woven straw floor mats) for the ceremony.  We are all seated in formal seiza style.

 

   There are many symbolic steps to prepare the tea and the utensils, and there are also formal responses that those receiving the tea should perform.  I am not a religion major, but it seemed a little like communion to me.  My travels and experiences led me to believe we shared more commonalities than we had differences. 

Soon, our several months with each other were over and we had to say "Goodbye"  It was a very sad parting for me. I had learned so much from him.  Over the following New Year holiday I received a post card from him, as in Asia most people send greetings for their New Year holiday.  A pretty post card, but I hope I never forget his few words to me in English.  "As I walk along the banks of the Shirakawa,  the herons taking flight remind me of you."

It was one of the most beautiful sentences ever written to me, but I will always pair it with the migraine headaches that I used to give him.  
(All comments are welcome.  Comments do not have to be in English!  Google Translator can be used for comments left in many languages.  Thank you for reading my blog.)

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!