Once upon a Time in My Life

I heard these lyrics today to a song called "Once upon a Time" off of an album called "Adore" by a band called "Smashing Pumpkins." This song always gives me a feeling of nostalgia that few other songs can produce. I drove through two hours of lush beauty in Oita prefecture today and thought, almost constantly, about how this nostalgia illuminates an important piece of who I am (and perhaps explains why I am the way I am).

A few of my best buddies from college and I have labeled ourselves "nostalgic" people as if we were more nostalgic than usual. Of course I thought I might feel differently about that since I have not yet become completely nostalgic about college times (for some reason; although I feel it slowly coming on).

But then this song today made me realize just how much a kind of melancholic, yet very sweet, nostalgia matters to me. The Pumpkins song makes me feel the nostalgia acutely as if it were turning one person's memories into something as classic or magical as a fairytale (and that's exactly how they are to me at times).

So my life has occasional bursts of yearning, nostalgic emotion. Sometimes when I drive by a patch of bamboo that hangs over the slick, wet road I feel it. Natural things that are so beautiful and pass by so quickly....

And yet, this way of life is prone to side-affects. For instance, I also feel the sad things of life more than most people do... I feel the imminent loss of things in the future, the impossibility of holding on to things indefinitely. But, as I said earlier in an earlier post, to be able to lose means that you were able to have. So in the end, all is well (who knows, maybe you'll be reincarnated into a golden retriever that lived a hundred years ago and got to eat really good food for almost everyday of her life!).

And to throw a red herring at you I will declare another thing that I "hate" about this country: that the dental care here is even worse than it is in the UK. The other day I saw someone's teeth that looked more decayed than the teeth I have seen on human skeletons. That was shocking.... But what can you expect when no one seems to use fluoride around here and no one knows what floss is?

And still, more and more, I feel as though I am not done with my time in this country. Sometime in the near future I would like to return to a place like Kyoto or Nara (both in the culturally rich region of Kansai) and become an unemployed (or employed...), welfare-receiving, writer. I still haven't written my book yet and I promised myself I would; what better time to be a poor artist than right now as a young, family-less, welfare-enlisted man (I have paid into the welfare system in Japan this year so I am entitled to a couple grand of handouts or I could get them sent to me in the US...)?
. . .

In a sort of conclusion, my realization relating to nostalgia should help some certain folk (including my family) understand why I am the way I am. Or perhaps it won't. Or perhaps I am just trying to reconcile my desires with my identity. Anyhow, I am tired from the long day in the sun and the drive through the rain and I need to cook and eat dinner. (There was a much more perfect post for today in my head during the drive, but alas, weakness of body has not allowed it to be recalled and put it into words here (sorry)).

Above are pictures from some of the last few days. Pre-schoolers (at the bottom of course) and sunny, then rainy Beppu (above).

Life's been like this: remember that scene in "25th Hour" where Edward Norton's character lists all the people in New York that he hates but that, in the end, he actually loves (or is jealous of)(well, something like that)? I feel a little like Edward Norton's character except about Japan. I like to complain in my head about the little traditions that get on my nerves: the taking off of the shoes, the mildewed slippers that don't fit that I must wear in most public offices, the low ceilings that take my hair away, the old women who say "ne" every two or three words and can't stop talking about who knows what. The chopsticks that may seem very practical and good but, in truth, require the logging of millions of acres of South American rainforests annually (to make a wild guess at the figure). The people whose minds seem to be stuck in the confines of their own little town, and that town only. The strange odors. The overwhelming amount (both large ones and small ones) of different fish that are eaten whole. The raw horse. The unbelievable narrow-mindedness of some people. The racism (both the positive racism and the negative racism). The kanji (I mean really, everyone else except China (and a few others?) seems to have already switched to a completely phonetic written system...). The impossibility of truly becoming a part of this society. The people who I love and fear to lose across the wide Pacific Ocean. The culture that I love and fear to lose over the wide Pacific Ocean. The culture I never had but still seemed to have in this tiny village. The shortness of it all (just as Edward Norton's character has 25 hours left before he's incarcerated...). And to think: "This life came so close to never happening."

Life in "The Aso"

Old traditions die hard, and so do places in faraway countries that we inhabit for a year. The farewell parties have just start rolling full speed. It's exhausting; it makes putting together the pieces of my time here (and my time after) so much harder.

Someday, in less than a month, I will find myself back on my home island of Maui. Someday after that I may find myself somewhere else in the states. The mystery continues....

Last night I found myself eating organic, home-grown Japanese food at home of the Otanis. After the usual conversations during dinner and so on, I decided to spice up the conversation. We then discussed karma, reincarnation, morality, etc. I agreed that the concept of reincarnation, on the most practical level, can be a simple way of creating a more positive outlook on life and death. Mr. Otani then argued that perhaps 50% of life is determined by outside factors of which we have no control over. Then it is up to us to believe in the other 50% if we want to make our lives better. I am glad we spoke of these things; as I head into a new era of my life after this I want to do everything I can to maneuver my boat into wonderful waters.

some beautiful days

For fear of doing too much injustice to the indescribable I will limit my words. Very recently I have had days that have reiterated, again and again, the beauty and goodness of this land and its people.

I visited a shrine in a tiny village whose name means "star peace." There I saw a blue and purple worm and butterflies on pink flowers. The natural peacefulness and beauty of that place were unique, unmatched.

And another shrine with dew covered flowers surrounding its quiet existence - a shrine that I had passed many times by car without ever seeing, despite its largeness....

A half-indoor hot spring with a gushing waterfall next to it... Sashimi with the still-alive head of the river fish next to its once flesh....

Sometimes it feels as though I am still getting here and not that I am leaving. Perhaps I will always still be getting here even after I leave.

The whitewater in between the rocks

I took today off. Thought it better to get some more rest and then see Takachiho Gorge again. On the way home I got stuck behind a beast of an old semi truck that was climbing its way up the highway at a good old 20km/h. Painted on the top of its old, jagged metal container were the symbols 日本 (the symbols for Nihon/Nippon, aka Japan) so that everyone behind the truck could easily read them; and that I did for a good five minutes while its battered carcass of a vehicle spewed the thickest, most copious amount of black soot that I have ever seen come out of such a contraption.

It is only natural for the beautiful and the ugly, the constructive and the deconstructive to coexist (at least conceptually). As my time here narrows down the two extremes seem to develop much louder voices, much brighter lights, and much more dramatic situations. The nature around me also mimics the extremes: just yesterday the sky was falling down in sheets of rain as lightning crashed every which way and that, while tonight the lands have fallen silent enough to hear in full form the frogs' nightly choral performances.

But it is not just the extremes that are making their dramatic entrances into life at the moment. The smaller details (that make up the larger parts of life in the long run) have been knocking on my mind's door and offering presents of strange emotional cocktails.

The nature of this blog will be changing, probably also dramatically. As I am called on to attend farewell party after farewell party (often strung three nights in a row), I probably will not be able to make the same sorts of frequent posts as I've done in the past. And as I get ready to leave this country (for who knows how long...), I will be thinking about what to do about this blog. Probably the "trips" will continue in their peculiar stripping of sorts, but I can make no promises as to what kind of tripping or stripping will go on upon leaving Nippon. But basically, in the next month, don't expect more than a few pictures and comments every once in a while.

Zoo Again

I visited my friends at the zoo again this weekend.

And so what's happening with my friends at the zoo? The sea lion was incredibly genki today. I got to feed him a smelly, dead fish with my hand. What a cute, loveable animal. Doesn't even smell bad. He was from the oceans of South America via Nagasaki, so I said to him, "hablas espanol?" to him.

I am pretty exhausted right now. Last night I was up late celebrating good times with the boys in an Irish pub watching the footballers on the tele. So I'll keep this short. There is too much to say so I will say nothing for now.