A Brief Note on Onsens.

So basically in this post I'm going to describe to you the miracle of Onsens. At it's core an Onsen is a public bath. Hot water is pumped into a shallow indoor or outdoor pool that is surrounded with pretty rock formations. Technically speaking it has to be heated by geothermal activity in the ground to be truly considered an Onsen otherwise it's known as a Sento. For me this isn't really important but apparently Onsens have medical advantages and are just better. This is probably obvious to the connoisseur, but to a smelly westerner like me, the difference isn't noticeable. 

An Onsen not too different to one I visited. The wooden pipes let water fall into the pool and if you stand below one it gives your back and neck a wonderful massage.

When one visits an Onsen they head into a changing room and completely strip off. Onsens have strict no clothes policies so if you're shy about revealing yourself you may want to brace yourself for a few awkward moments. Virtually all Onsens are single sex so there really isn't any point in worrying what anyone else thinks. I didn't know this until about two minutes before my first trip to one but fortunately I have very few qualms about nudity so it was something I found quite easy. You then walk through a glass doorway into a hall not unlike that of a swimming pool. The main differences are that it's humid (but definitely bearable), the pools are shallow and much smaller, the water is HOT and they usually have a generally classy feeling with rock floors and marble walls. There may be several different pools with different temperatures as well as an outdoor pool. There will be raised steps to sit on at the edge of the pool and if it's a classy place they will have really nice rock formations on which to sit. In addition, many will have sauna and a cold water bath. 

Due to the sheer abundance of gonads, it's difficult to find a suitable picture for the blog. (I Googled these images. There was no way in holy hell I was bringing my camera in with me)

However, before you can enjoy the delights of an Onsen, you must clean yourself, as the name "public bath" might suggest. Many swimming pools in Ireland have this rule as well, but usually it consists of walking through a tiny, ankle deep pool before you get in. To make matters even more disgusting many of the pools look like they were built in the 1960s and by all odds are dirtier than the people in them. As well as this they are riddled with chlorine but this is a necessary measure to protect the people from their own filth. Fortunately, this is not the case in Onsens. When you walk in there will be a row of shower heads, mirrors, buckets and stools on which to sit next to the wall. Shampoo, conditioner and body soap are usually provided and you give yourself a comprehensive cleaning. Unlike most showers which take place in the midst of a hectic morning schedule, you really do have time to sit down, relax and do some thorough sand blasting. I don't know about most people but I don't usually shampoo in between my toes when I shower but in an Onsen you clean yourself head to toe thoroughly so you achieve a sense of cleanliness that feels great. 

Where you would clean yourself in an Onsen.

After this you gingerly get into a pool and melt. Initially the water may feel too hot but if you bear a few initial seconds of pain you completely relax and all your troubles dissolve into the scented water. The one downside is that sometimes if the water is too hot or you get in too quick you become dizzy but this can be easily remedied by only having below your knees in or better yet, going to one of the outdoor pools. There are usually some vending machines selling beer and it's not uncommon to see a group of people relaxing with a cold drink whilst in the Onsen. 

Although exposure is perfectly acceptable in an Onsen I will not have it on my blog...so I'm going to borrow my friends face for this photo.

Personally I absolutely love Onsens. They are a fantastic way to relax and you come out feel unimaginably clean and refreshed. Some people may feel put off by the nudity but in my opinion this attitude is silly. The human body is a completely natural and beautiful thing and certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Spending time being nude and around other peoples nudity is something that I think is healthy and if you're one of those people that think every second person on the street is  paedophile or rapist then I'm sorry, your a paranoid idiot. Any experience I've had in an Onsen has been great. Myself and my project trust partner live a 5 minute walk from one so we are regular attendees ourselves and intend to go many, many more times. If you ever find yourself in Japan they something you must try.

Toya: An Introduction.

Right, where to start...Well on our first morning in Toya it was blisteringly hot and although it is not the norm for this time of year it forced us to forego the planned cycle around Toya and travel by car. Taka-san showed us some of the schools where we'd be working as well as landmarks and places that would be important to our survival....such as the local shop; the Seicomart (pronounced Say-Coh) or as I like to call it the Psychomart. As well as being shown some landmarks in the town we we're introduced to people we would be either working with or seeing regularly. This included some enthusiastic greetings from our co-workers and some not so enthusiastic greetings from our neighbours. One of the more interesting things we were brought to see included the town shrine on the lake edge that acts as the towns symbol. It is this small, red, Buddhist, shrine with a pagoda roof. It is on a tiny island a few meters off the shore of the lake an has been connected with some stepping stones. The island itself is tiny and fairly minimal with the exception of some weird looking plants. All in all, a very beautiful sight and one that is a stones throw from my house.

The Buddhist Shrine.

Soon after this, Taka-san said we would finish for the day and that me and James would be free to get to know the area by ourselves for a bit. To be honest I wasn't bubbling with anticipation at this point. I had been feeling quite raw and a little worried. Toya seemed to be a very quiet place and for a person like me who grew up in a city it was a big change. Not only this but I had not seen anyone my age yet, just men and women in their mid 30's and older...A small amount of dread started trickling into my stomach and I even began to feel a little envious of my fellow volunteers in Tokyo and Kyoto who were in big metropolitan cities. However I told myself to reserve my judgments for once the real work had begun.

One of the Elementary Schools where I work.

The next day we were to do more sightseeing. Having familiarised ourselves with the town we moved onto the surrounding areas such as Toyako Onsen and Abuta. We visited the volcano museum in Toyako Onsen and climbed to the top of Mount Uzu... the volcano less than a kilometer from the town. There were some smoking holes in the ground but we we're blocked from leaving a designated path by ropes at about ankle height. Had I been at home or in a country that it would be far harder to kick me out of I would've happily jumped over it and rushed up to the nearest smoking hole and taken a hit of the sweet sweet sulfur. Unfortunately though the presence of Taka-san and a school that was present on an outing made me hesitant. After seeing the nearby towns and volcanoes Taka-san somehow found out it was my birthday (I had been so overwhelmed by everything that I genuinely forgot) and brought us kiaking on the lake and for dinner in his house. After this he brought us to an Onsen. I have much to say on Onsens and will dedicate my next post entirely to it, suffice it to say for now they're these spa/bath houses that are freaking awesome.

By the end of the day we were tired but feeling great. The town had started to grow on me and I was feeling less tense. Me and James went home and prepared our speeches for our welcoming party at the Sogo Center (where we do desk work when we're not working in class) the next day.

The Sogo Center. 

Seeing as we had nothing really planned before the party Taka-san brought us to the bear park at the foothills of Mount Showashinzan, one of the several peaks of Mount Uzu. Well the bear park was certainly not what I expected and I left it feeling a mixture of emotions. Again this is one topic that will require a full post...brace yourself for an epic rant. Anyway, later on we suited up and made our way to the party. It was formal enough and very nice. We gave cheesy speeches and were introduced to a few cool people including two particularly cool guys Jeremie and Shiro...more on them later. But yea so we had thoroughly settled in and work was about to begin. A very exciting a nerve racking time.

The Psychomart. 

Sorry  I know today's entry hasn't been side splitting funny or interesting but I had to cover some basic stuff and I'm half asleep so my comedic genius (sarcasm) isn't flowing at it's usual rate. But yea more on onsens and bears next B-)

Tokyo to Toya.

The change from Tokyo to Toya is quite a stark one. We went from skyscrapers, multiculturalism and dripping humidity to single story buildings, moderate temperature and being literally the only westerners in the village. We we're met off the plane by some people from the board of education. Erica our host (essentially our minder for the year), and the president of the Toya international exchange association (not as fancy as it sounds) Taka-san, which we would to come to know as our crazy Japanese granddad. We we're brought for some lunch which consisted of Tempura and Squid Sashimi (raw squid). Although the Tempura was delicious I had mixed feelings about the squid but I forced it down to polite...a decision I would later regret.

Squid Sashimi....bad bad bad bad bad.

On the car ride from the airport I had time to observe the surrounding areas. I was struck with how similar the landscape was to Ireland. It had the same green colour although painted on a much more rugged landscape. We passed several signs with warnings about bears in Japanese which filled me with glee and anticipation but our hosts quickly shat on my dreams by informing us that running into bears in the wild almost never happens...I'm still clinging onto that "almost". Soon we arrived in Toya by which point I was seriously regretting the squid earlier on. Thanking my lucky stars to be out of the car and at my new home we burst in the door to see a whole tray of welcoming food accompanied by the lovely woman who made it for us. James and our hosts seemed quite happy while I was cursing whatever sadistic god or twist of faith would thrust me into such an uncomfortable situation. The others made small talk while I played with my food and pretended to eat and enjoy it in a desperate attempt to stave of any filthy looks from the cook who was sitting right next to me. The others soon left and I promptly sprinted into the bathroom and got sick......fucking squid.

Our living room...not bad considering some of the horror stories I've heard about other volunteer accommodations.

After this however I felt relatively better and proceeded to look around our new home. The house is big enough with me and James having a comfortably sized living room, a bedroom each, a spare room, a kitchen and bathroom. Although the bedrooms and living room offer size and luxury that a student could not possibly expect on his gap year we pay the price in our kitchen and bathroom which are little more than matchstick boxes with plumbing. In the spare room there is a treasure trove of various items left over from previous volunteers. The real jewel in which is the folder of letters. At the end of every year the volunteers who are about to depart write a letter to the next pair about to arrive. This is a wonderful tradition and one that stretches back to before I was born. It`s strange reading advice about my Project that was written before I even came into existence. Nevertheless though it feels amazing to be part of such a longstanding tradition and larger process. Along with the collection of letters there is a collection of photos of the past volunteers. As I gaze at their faces while I`m writing this sentence I can`t help but feel connected to them in some small way, even if I will never meet most, if any of them.

The magical folder of letters.

The contents of the letters ranges from encouraging advice to mind numbing tips about how to work the television. I hate these letters as A most of them are from 15 years ago and B even if our television worked I wouldn't want to use it anyway. I can watch TV any time, I`m not going to waste this year sitting in front of the tube....I`m going to waste it sitting in front of a computer...ranting to people I've never met before....(sigh...).

Some of the past volunteers.

4 Days in Tokyo (Part 2) and Departure...again.

For the remaining two days in Tokyo we chatted with Yuki about our projects and prepared to depart...again. Yuki warned me that there would not be many people around my age in the area and seemed somewhat relieved to find out that I get along well with my partner, James. We also met up with an ex-volunteer who now lives in Tokyo called Alex. He was incredibly cool and took us out to a restaurant called Gonpachi. I wont bore you with the details of the food, suffice it to say; it was incredible. If you ever come to Japan eat Wagyu steak (and don't forget to bring a spare pair of underwear....it's that good). Also, don't listen to what anyone says, eel sushi is also amazing. The restaurant itself was awesome. Alex told us that Quintin Tarintino is big into Japanese culture and, when around, often frequented the bars and restaurants in the area. Which made sense as there was something so...authentic about the place. The first thing I said when I walked in was that I half expected Indiana Jones to crash through one of the walls fighting off several ninjas. As well as this whenever anyone entered the nearest waiter would shout "Irrashaimasen" (welcome in Japanese) and all the other waiters would echo it...very cool. Alex himself was an awesome guy. It was nice to speak to someone who had the knowledge and experience of a local with the mannerisms and accessibility of a westerner. His knowledge and encouragement was reassuring and it was really interesting to speak to a guy whose life had been profoundly affected by his time with Project Trust (He lives and works in Tokyo with his Japanese wife).

Gonpachi......fucking....awesome.

On our last day we did some final sightseeing which included going up Tokyo tower which is a whole 8 meters taller than the Eiffel tower...so fuck you Paris. Also somehow, we got roped into going to Karaoke which I hate with a burning passion. I love singing and having a laugh but there is just something about karaoke that gets under my skin. Perhaps it's because when people know I hate karaoke it makes them all the more determined to try and get me up.Either way we went to a Karaoke club and I curled into the foetal position for about 45 minutes.

Me displaying my mental fortitude.

 The day after we packed up, said our goodbyes and headed to our Projects. It was strange because leaving Tokyo was much harder than leaving Dublin. I had now become accustomed to airports and with that stress/distraction removed , it felt like I was leaving a holiday to go and do work. Work that I was beginning to get stressed about. Nevertheless though I was excited and buzzing with anticipation.

Up yours Paris. 

As we left Haneda airport in Tokyo the sudden reality of the situation hit me...again. Also me and James we're due to gives speeches at a welcoming party on arrival so that too kept us occupied. So now our brief induction period was over and our gap year was about to begin...for real, this time.

Me and James about to leave Tokyo. 

4 Days in Tokyo. (Part 1)

First impressions of Tokyo; really strange and sticky. When we got off our bus at West Shinjuku we were greeted by a Japanese woman by the name of Yuki and two university students whose names I cannot remember. We we're confused, sleep deprived and apparently I was grumpy. Nevertheless we pressed onward to do some very basic sightseeing which consisted mostly of getting food. I was mildly annoyed that the first thing I was to eat in Japan would be Spaghetti Carbonara. I thought I'd left understanding and Carbonara back in the West, but somehow they followed me across the world. Regardless though, we ate and then headed towards our hotel. Much like the journey, I was far too occupied to really worry or be stressed so I just focused on taking it all in and chatting with the Japanese students. Although slightly shy, they we're very polite and nice.....extremely Japanese. As I walked past all the bright lights and signs that made absolutely no sense I found myself struggling to believe I was on the opposite side of the world. I still find it hard to believe. I've journeyed almost as far as I can get from home and yet I don't feel that far away. I guess that's the problem with planes. In a journey like a hike you expend energy through movement and you traverse rough terrain with nothing more than your own body and effort. Even in a boat or a train at least you can see the landscape roll by. In a plane however, your placed in a metal tube and hurled across the world at incomprehensible speeds. It feels more like a horrendously inefficient teleporter rather than something that moves.

When we got to our hotel we put on yukatas (these really nice Japanese bathrobes) and I began a very intimate relationship with the air conditioning unit in my room. This was not my first encounter of the miracle that is air conditioning. In Bulgaria it served as my iron lung whilst my pasty Irish body was pounded by the relentless humidity. In Tokyo it was similar story; a man and a machine entwined in a forbidden romance that could not be.

We began the next morning with a quick trip on the Japanese underground. Although I had heard stories of the gender segregated carriages, that was only from 7-9 in the morning, so I had missed my first chance to be culturally insensitive. I also felt somewhat jipped. Not once was I felt up by a burly Japanese man in a crowded train. I had heard that blondes we're hot stuff for Japanese perverts so you can only imagine what the lack of groping did to my self esteem. Feeling dejected and undesirable I made my with the group to
Harajuku.

In case you didn't know a lot of Japanese people love posing for photos...I, on the other hand, hate it. This is why I felt the urge to pretend that my crepe was a telescope.

Harjuku appeared to be somewhat of a haunt for tourists as there were many stalls filled with junk (albeit very interesting junk) and we were certainly not the only foreigners there. Apparently it is also a stomping ground for Cosplayers so I was a small bit disappointed when I wasn't met off the train by Yu-Gi-Oh with a deck ready in hand to duke it out with me in duel monsters. I didn't see anyone dressed up initially which was actually a little disappointing but this was soon remedied when I saw what can only be described as a once in a lifetime sight. A man in a hat and cape, with 18th century clothes was walking hurriedly through the crowd. In his left hand he had a leash which the other end of was attached to a piece of corn that he was dragging along. All I could think was "Oh there's Japanese Zorro taking his piece of corn for a walk". Unfortunately I didn't have time to take a picture as I was too busy picking up my jaw, which upon seeing Japanese Zorro walking his corn, had dropped so low it was nestled between my shoes.

Barrels of Sake outside the Meiji Shrine. Legend has it after decades of fermentation, they all still taste like ass.

After this we did some more sight-seeing which included visiting the Meiji Shrine and a Japanese market. Although they we're both really interesting the jet lag and humidity had finally caught up with me and I was too tired to really enjoy myself properly. My fellow Japan volunteers saw I wasn't t feeling 100% and quickly took many photos of me for their new website www.brendanlooksgrumpy.com. I swear to god if it becomes an actual website I will murder all the other Japan volunteers via eggplant enema.

Me taking a quick break from my grumpiness to improve another photo.

More in part 2!

Departure!

It feels somehow surreal to pack up your life and move to the opposite side of the world. Or at least it did on Wednesday the 13th of September, which was my last day in Ireland. As I walked home after saying my final goodbyes to my friends I felt somehow numb. I thought back on all the little random chances and happenings that combined together to lead me to this junction in my life and how easily, if one of them had been missing, I might be doing something completely different. As these thoughts raced through my head I finished off the last of my packing and tried to get some rest.

Myself and the other volunteers waiting to get on the huge plane which you can see in the reflection of the glass.

The day of departure wasn't at all like the weeks of worry and excitement that had come before hand. I wasn't focusing on going away for a year I was simply getting to the airport on time, checking in, transferring flights and so on. I was merely completing a set of tasks that required most if not all of my attention so I didn't have time to contemplate or worry. It was oddly calming. Of course everything went well except for one small hitch.

Fuck you Will Smith...

 As I was passing through security the woman behind the desk took interest in my bag. I, like many other people, manage to convince myself, as I go through the metal detector, that I actually do have a kilogram of heroin safely hidden up my ass. So when she put the bag back through I was feeling quite uncomfortable. While the security guards we're talking I was racing through the packing procedure in my head making sure that I couldn't possibly have anything unusual in my bag. It was at this moment when I remembered the small butcher knife that had been resting next to my bag while it was being packed. One of my relatives must have been having a snack that required a certain degree of precision cutting that your garden variety butter knife can't provide. About 3 seconds after this thought entered my head I could see a small grey object that had been illuminated on the screen of the x-ray machine. The possibility that a family member accidentally threw the knife in while packing suddenly became very real. My heart started racing as the security guard asked me to open the bag. I proceeded to do so and as I lifted up the first layer of shirts, there it was, my grandparents butcher knife, shinning with pride as it displayed it's potential as a lethal weapon. I imagine that if the knife had somehow had a face at that moment it would have had the same facial expression as Will Smith in the poster for that god awful movie. It was in this moment where I had horrible flashes in my mind, of being led into some airport security back room where a fat hairy man nicknamed barry-the-plumber was waiting with gloved fingers ready to probe me. Fortunately, this didn't happen. They we're quite understanding about it in fact and I continued on my merry way silently wishing horrible things upon my family.

Barry-The-Plumber.

3 uneventful plane rides later I stepped off in Tokyo. The first bit of culture shock that hit me was when we were getting on the bus to take us from the airport to our accommodation. Three young employees of the bus service took our bags from us and all bowed in a line as the bus pulled away. It was a small gesture and one I knew I'd encounter but it was still odd to see three grown men who contribute to the nations GDP bowing to some sweaty student on his gap year. Let alone being bow worthy, I'm still wondering when did I become a Mr. Brendan Scally. Nevertheless though I had made it to Tokyo and my gap year was about begin.......YAY CHEESY CLIFFHANGER :D

Scramble crossing in Tokyo.

Hopes and Fears

Hopes and fears...we all have them and in many ways are defined by them.  When you reflect on your own desires and anxieties you really are reflecting on what makes you tick. I can think back to my childhood and remember some of the fears that plagued me, and believe me, there we're many. In fact, when I think about it, I was essentially a blonde haired "Chuckie" from the Rugrats.

Me aged 10...with ginger hair.

Anyway, I digress. As I was saying, when I was a small child I had many fears. One in particular that stood out was my arachnophobia, or fear of spiders.  While the little fuckers made my skin crawl, I was absolutely obsessed with them. It gave me some sort of weird pleasure to pick up an encyclopedia of spiders and recoil in horror as I found the hairiest most venomous bastard of the bunch. While you may think this is weird, for many, fear is just a step away from obsession and in my case it's definitely true. Although my hopes and fears have progressed and changed as I've grown up, the close link between fear and fascination remains.

So today...about 10 days from departure (oh god!) what are my hopes and fears? Well, both can be easily answered in one word; attention. We all love attention (sorry if you're a hermit), at least, in a positive way. It validates us, and shows that people acknowledge our existence. I, for example, love positive attention...like many other people...obviously. Behind all the false modesty and phrases such as "oh stop, it's nothing really!" there is a ten year old saying "Yes!! I did the thing very well! Acknowledge it and say it to me again!".For the most part there is nothing wrong with this, apart from maybe an over reliance on the approval of others. But generally it's not a problem. Now, on the flip side of things, negative attention. This is something that literally gives me nightmares. I still have World War Two-esque flashbacks from performing a play as a child and completely freezing on stage. Feeling all the leering eyes falling upon me as panic begins to flood into my body...I start to pant, the relentless heat of the stage light burns my skin and a searingly quiet silence follows...Ugh! It sends shivers down my spine as I type. But despite this, I still crave attention...while fearing it at the same time. Really, I would love to pursue something like acting, more than anything, but I am petrified by fear at the same time. In a way, I'm happy that it is this way, because in order to achieve that ultimate happiness and satisfaction, I will have to confront my ultimate fear. It is my Everest....without trying to sound over-dramatic.

Now, at this point you may be thinking "Jesus Brendan, what does this have to do with your year in Japan?". Well I'm getting to that imaginary heckler, so please shut the fuck up and listen. It seems that by teaching with Project Trust I may have found a way to both confront my fear of attention while indulging in it at the same time. Teaching may not be the hardest job in the world but for me it is something that I enjoy while facing a personal demon. So in a way I am killing two birds with the one stone, sort of. However with a venture like this comes added risk. What will it do to my self esteem and confidence if all goes horribly wrong, I drop out and return home. I know these are the things that typically enter the head of someone just before a big journey but still, I have invested so much time and effort into this that I would truly be crushed if it goes terribly wrong. But, I suppose fear is an integral part of any adventure and one that I wouldn't omit of given the choice.

My Everest....doesn't look too bad does it?

Anyway, enough negativity for now. This will probably be my last post in Ireland so soon enough I can get down to the real purpose of this blog...documenting my year in Japan...and having the opportunity to rant overseas, that too.